Joe Wordsworth
Logician
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2004
- Posts
- 4,085
Faira Feywind, heiress to the throne of the Aeylf-blooded Royal House of Esrana, strode nimbly through her resplendid garden of moonsglow and wolfsheart flowers. Her raven tresses curled adoringly around her most ovidian countenance, much as her sanctity curled and obscured her passionate loining ferocity.
"Oh, wouldst that I were not so beautiful and demure! What powers and gods chain this beast of lust within this proper and rubinesque soma? What powers, I say!!!", she said, her breast heaving daintily under the fragile material of her gnome-weaved bustier. While the massive tectonic pressure of her giant plumbs tested the strength of the garment, it was the stuffing of her twelve-dragons-egg stomach into the ten-dragons-egg corset that gave the earth cause to tremble and seams cause to shake and tremble with the threat of giving way under her crude attempt at focusing on herself at wild angles and wearing cinching clothing to give herself a more pleasing visage--gnomes, their merciless genius!
Prince Ravenwynd of the magickal kindgom of Dark Wyvernistan, piercingly gazing apathetically across the lands from his fortress of eldritch druidic dragon power, let his mind reach out into the ages and saw his fate. His blonde, golden locks showered his head as though a rain of bright brass droplets streaming down upon him in a powerful double meaning. His bulge expanded heartily at the sight of his bride-to-be and her rhetorical musings, as he further stuffed the codpiece, giving it swell. His dark clothing hiding his wirey frame and soft midsection, the contrast between his pale skin and the midnight pitch of his cloak acentuated his long, flowing, gay hair... he wouldst have her, and have her he wouldst when he had her!!!
"Oh, wouldst that I were not so beautiful and demure! What powers and gods chain this beast of lust within this proper and rubinesque soma? What powers, I say!!!", she said, her breast heaving daintily under the fragile material of her gnome-weaved bustier. While the massive tectonic pressure of her giant plumbs tested the strength of the garment, it was the stuffing of her twelve-dragons-egg stomach into the ten-dragons-egg corset that gave the earth cause to tremble and seams cause to shake and tremble with the threat of giving way under her crude attempt at focusing on herself at wild angles and wearing cinching clothing to give herself a more pleasing visage--gnomes, their merciless genius!
Prince Ravenwynd of the magickal kindgom of Dark Wyvernistan, piercingly gazing apathetically across the lands from his fortress of eldritch druidic dragon power, let his mind reach out into the ages and saw his fate. His blonde, golden locks showered his head as though a rain of bright brass droplets streaming down upon him in a powerful double meaning. His bulge expanded heartily at the sight of his bride-to-be and her rhetorical musings, as he further stuffed the codpiece, giving it swell. His dark clothing hiding his wirey frame and soft midsection, the contrast between his pale skin and the midnight pitch of his cloak acentuated his long, flowing, gay hair... he wouldst have her, and have her he wouldst when he had her!!!
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