Shadowsdream
Dream Maker
- Joined
- Apr 29, 2002
- Posts
- 3,173
I certainly hope so..to a degree...
Here is a thread to post your dream expectation...join Me in a new conversation...
she has the heart of a child and a lust for life that keeps her on the edge of hopes and dreams. her strength is her vulnerability and the innocence that touches her eyes does not hide the intellect of her mind.
she is a woman child, half angel half devil, with a laugh that touches the soul.
The scent of her skin, still moist from a morning shower, is as intoxicating an ambrosia as gardenias strung like garlands meant to be worn by hula dancers. she knows it. she flaunts it as seductively as an angel clothed in no more than gossamear wings meant to tempt her Goddess.
And temp Me she does. Never knowing that I already hold her in My heart as she day dreams and yearns for the One who will mold her into the perfection she craves to be.
she day dreams, I night dream. Inhaling her fragility and wrapping My strength of steel around her doubts and disappointments. My mind brings My fingers to caress the silk that is her skin burning a path of intrigue down her cheek and finding the line from her lips to that delicate neck that only a collar can improve. I graze an imaginary glazed finger nail from the hollow of her throat to the curve of her perfect breast as I watch her chest heave in the desire to be taken into freedom. I sense the passion that burns out of control as her moist heat dampens her silken panties and causes a hint of a blush to heighten the pallor of alabastor skin so pure that sculptors would shed tears just to lay their hands on her beauty.
she is wanton in a classy way. her need to please out weighs her shyness.
This is the perfect submissive that will have the honor of curling around My feet on a cold winter night.
Here is a thread to post your dream expectation...join Me in a new conversation...
she has the heart of a child and a lust for life that keeps her on the edge of hopes and dreams. her strength is her vulnerability and the innocence that touches her eyes does not hide the intellect of her mind.
she is a woman child, half angel half devil, with a laugh that touches the soul.
The scent of her skin, still moist from a morning shower, is as intoxicating an ambrosia as gardenias strung like garlands meant to be worn by hula dancers. she knows it. she flaunts it as seductively as an angel clothed in no more than gossamear wings meant to tempt her Goddess.
And temp Me she does. Never knowing that I already hold her in My heart as she day dreams and yearns for the One who will mold her into the perfection she craves to be.
she day dreams, I night dream. Inhaling her fragility and wrapping My strength of steel around her doubts and disappointments. My mind brings My fingers to caress the silk that is her skin burning a path of intrigue down her cheek and finding the line from her lips to that delicate neck that only a collar can improve. I graze an imaginary glazed finger nail from the hollow of her throat to the curve of her perfect breast as I watch her chest heave in the desire to be taken into freedom. I sense the passion that burns out of control as her moist heat dampens her silken panties and causes a hint of a blush to heighten the pallor of alabastor skin so pure that sculptors would shed tears just to lay their hands on her beauty.
she is wanton in a classy way. her need to please out weighs her shyness.
This is the perfect submissive that will have the honor of curling around My feet on a cold winter night.