WaywardHeart's Idea Thread and Mountain Refuge.

[WaywardHeart]

Invite only please! Thanks.

You walk, after a long, arduous journey, into a lush clearing just below the treeline. Ancient greek ruins stand crumbling around you, the statues that watch over them have eyes that welcome you... Its not easy to miss the faint glimmer of seduction they hold. WaywardHeart smiles sweetly at you, her nude form resting at the edge of the stream. You hear her soft voice above the soothing trickle of clear water. "Welcome, traveler... come, rest, and drink..."

This is my thread for those that wish to converse with me about thread idea's and the like... and perhaps other, more naughty things.... ^_^

http://i1005.photobucket.com/albums/af180/Taliah32/4a69697d893730b949edafb3d7089dda.jpg?t=1280419933

 

[WaywardHeart]

To cookie and bluemage.

We had begun to discuss a thread. I found this picture of a dryad (above) and I think its really pretty! ^_^ I know I told you YOU could be a redhead, so we'll just have to pretend its something else. Nonetheless, That is the concept of dryad I wish to use...

Last night me and bluemage discussed a plot breifly. We were thinking that, perhaps, my characters forest is being destroyed by humans. As a defense mechanism, the forest generates monsters to fight back. However, it quickly becomes out of control and begins to tear itself apart. My character looks for a third party, to beg for aid.

On that note, perhaps one of you could be the leader of said third party? As you know, when a dryads tree dies, she will die as well. I was thinking that perhaps my characters tree could be destroyed. In desperation, she runs to one of you. Perhaps the only way to save her would be to have some magical bond with another person...

Looking forward to your input.

 

[Bluemage]

I play a moderately good elf. Just food for thought.

Anyway, I may have just been employed, so I may have been lying when I said that I could bounce around a lot of ideas today.

 

[princesssexci]

I play a moderately good elf. Just food for thought.

Anyway, I may have just been employed, so I may have been lying when I said that I could bounce around a lot of ideas today.

*sneaks in and listens to a conversation that doesn't involve her but because shes nosey she listens anyways*

You may have just been employed!!! Thats awesome magey-kins!!!! We should have a 'Mage may have been employed lit party where you get all the females!'

*sneaks out*

 

[WaywardHeart]

Oh thats ok!

Im pretty flexible with plots, just like you guys said, so maybe once we hammer out something rough I could just post and we could run with it. We'll see what Cookie has to say.

Being an elf would be good! That means that, theoretically, you would be nearby...

 

[oreocookie]

Well... As magey knows, I am a hippie so honestly I can't see me or a character of mine trying to kill a forest.. I could try it... *shrugs*

 

[WaywardHeart]

Im a hippie too! How great! ^_^

You could play whatever you want, we can make it work.

 

[oreocookie]

... Seriously, are you sure you're not my twin?

 

[WaywardHeart]

Genetics is a silly obstacle for such things. *glomps the twin.*

 

[oreocookie]

Grins widely as she's glomped.

YAY!

 

[WaywardHeart]

Saunters in, hips swaying... Wondering if this place is empty.

 

[oreocookie]

When you sway those hips, it'll never be empty hun

 

[WaywardHeart]

*glomps the cookie and saunters in, taking a seat on an ancient stone bench... Her flowing white dress stirs in the wind, bare feet resting in the brook flowing from the mountains. She hums softly to herself, deep chocolate eyes searching the sky for clouds that look like the characters dancing in her head...

 

[oreocookie]

You look... aboslutely stunning.

 

[WaywardHeart]

She smiles warmly at oreo, picking one of the mountain flowers and tucking it behind her ear. "The feelings are mutual, love."

 

[Light Ice]

*glomps the cookie and saunters in, taking a seat on an ancient stone bench... Her flowing white dress stirs in the wind, bare feet resting in the brook flowing from the mountains. She hums softly to herself, deep chocolate eyes searching the sky for clouds that look like the characters dancing in her head...

He's soon after. Silent, full of purpose. It's a date long delayed, long left to the rain and time and he's quick to make good now. The bench isn't suitable for what he has in mind but he takes a seat beside her all the while. Strong, battered knuckles brush along her cheek, stroke against the soft skin as he passes his eyes over the drape of her dress in masculine scrutiny.

"Nice dress." Simple but sincere.

The pass of his knuckles turns as he cradles her cheek in his palm, turning that hand. That absent caress is taken up by his thumb, stroking steadily, down the line of her jaw to the point of her chin.

 

[WaywardHeart]

Her eyes turn to him, smiling at the compliment. "Yes, I was going for the greek mood..." Her lips part at the feather-light caress... Her eyes sparkle as she looks up at him, and she moves closer, pressing her slim frame to him, her hand pressing to his chest. She can feel his breath on her neck, coaxing goosebumps from her soft skin. She can find little to say, and so only takes comfort in his embrace.

 

[Light Ice]

Restless, unable to help himself. Those strong hands reach out to take hold of the gentle round of her hips, lift her from her place. It's a means to drag her into his lap, to drape her long legs across his thighs while the round of her backside rests atop one. And that comfort she takes from him? He takes it back with interest, lifting a hand to splay strong fingers along the back of her head in the dense curtain of her hair and pull her into his kiss.

 

[WaywardHeart]

She inhales sharply as he pulls her onto his lap, whimpering as his hand entangles in her silky locks and pulls her into a fierce kiss... "Mmmph..." Her toes curl at the raw passion of it... her leg moving upwards, flashing quite a bit of thigh through the slitted silk garment. He breaks the kiss, leaving her flustered and breathless... "Goddess..." Her hand is balled into a fist, gripping the material of your shirt... She had been holding on for dear life as you kissed her. Her arms slip around your neck, and she kisses you back with equal fervor.

 

[Light Ice]

A hand drops, finds the delicate bend of her knee and lingers. Her kiss stirs it to move, to brush upward, glide along the silken expanse of that muscled stem until it lays buried beneath the panels of her skirt and braces the feminine arch of her hip. Their kiss turns to a heated tangle of tongue and lips, a series of collisions between wanting mouths that break only for heated breaths and the softer, lazy presses of his lips to her own.

Beneath her, against the delicious round of her backside, he swiftly hardens. The great length of him proud and firm, pulsing hotly already against the yielding cheeks seated on him.

 

[WaywardHeart]

She parts from him, eyes smoky and wanting... She can feel his arousal beneath her. No words need be exchanged. Her hands rise to her shoulders, slipping the flowing silk over her shoulders, bearing the firm mounds of her bosom to his eyes.. Sensitive pink nipples ache, swollen and begging for his touch... She stands smoothly, letting it fall in a puddle at her feet. Turning to him, she stares into his hungry eyes, slipping to her knees between his thighs. A delicate hand slides up his thigh, massaging his hardening length through his clothing... her eyes never leave his...

 

[Light Ice]

She plays with images, visions. The way the fabric slips from her shoulders and tumbles down, catching only for an instant on the arches of her hips before pooling at her feet. He watches her, spreads his corded thighs as she settles neatly between them. The hard length flexes roughly under her hand, urgent. The soft brown of her eyes holding his, stealing their stare, keeping it trapped as his fingers reached down to stroke and tussle its way through her mane.

 

[WaywardHeart]

She revels in the feel of his hands in her hair, biting softly on her lower lip. She feels him pulse and strain against her nimble fingers. Slowly, lazily, she reaches for the zipper, unfastening him and tugging his pants and boxers from his body. Her slender fingers wrap tightly around his steely shaft, feeling his heat, his need. She strokes him lethargically, her breathing short, the flush spreading from her cheeks to the rising and falling swell of her breasts. She slips into your lap, sighing as your manhood rests against the moist, tender lips of her most private treasure... "You said this bench was... insufficient..." Her lips capture your lower lip, suckling gently, and realeasing it with a small pop as she unbuttoned his shirt. "...What did you have in mind?"

 

[Light Ice]

That hand, that deliciously small hand, seems to barely circle the girth of that length. Each pump, each fluid jerk of her small wrist, passes her soft touch along the hard column of his cock until it's a throbbing, hot mass in her grip. And then she's denying him, keeping those soft lips from sinking down on him, swallowing him up.

And then she's up, crawling up his body, a lean line of soft skin pressing against him until her sleek thighs brace his hips and they are suddenly, perilously close to satisfaction.

What had he imagined for this encounter? What had rumbled around inside his mind? It was gone now. The best laid plans, it seemed, of mice and men. But he needs her now. And the want is sharp, powerfully sharp, so much so that it drives him to act.

Standing, he lifts her. The rugged stretch of his arms deny gravity its claim, clutch her slender body against his and leave her thighs wrapped about his rangy hips. It's enough because in that moment, in lifting her up in an easy stand, he impales her, fills her, sends that thick length surging past the slick petals of her sex and stretching her around him.

 

[WaywardHeart]

She felt his strong hands grip her thighs, and she squirms in his arms as he stands. She giggles, wrapping her legs tightly about him, her arms encircling his neck for support. Her giggles turn into a long, heated moan... feeling him sink to the hilt in her tight, silken tunnel. Her walls clentched snugly around his pulsing manhood, milking him. She grinds her hips against his base, labored breath caressing his ear hotly... "Mmm...."