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~ Is she dreaming?

She finds it hard to tell. With their clarion calls of apocalypse heralding angels, the copious glasses of red wine and the pungent aroma of marijuana have warped her perception of time. Her nostrils quiver at the memory; she never smoked, but the odour remains with her like a brand

~ Nothing seems solid anymore. It is almost as though time and reality have ceased to have meaning.

Something inside her, high up at the top of her brain, seems to rise, float away. It is as if someone unknown has chopped at the last cable holding her to the earth. This part of her twists away, diminishing in size with such rapidity that she might forget it had ever once been a part of her

~ She reaches out - touches - holds

The perfume of her body mingles with a musk she can not identify; a certain heat that transmits itself physically. But there is more, an almost tangible force. A forth touch to experience since her partner had blindfolded her and led her into this room a lifetime ago.

~ A first touch since he revealed her nakedness to the others.

Ten paces or so away, she knows, the others watch her; study her, scrutinise her. She can hear them; their murmurs.

~ Why do the others not come for her straight away?

As he led her to the space, her partner whispered he would be the last. She will not feel his touch until the very end, until he had seen every one of the others inside her.

~ Why are the others not eager to begin; eager to get their hands on her and use her as only they know how to use a female body?

An icy finger pauses her heart.

For a while she'd studied dance, but she had been forced to drop out because the swell of her breasts when she reached her sixteenth birthday just didn’t fit in with the anorexic female image at school. And now, though she tries not to allow it, her mind is inescapably drawn to the memory of those days when she just a young vulnerable girl.

The same anxiety comes again, a fierce knot in her stomach, a pressure on her chest, constricting her breaking, refusing to go away. There is nothing wrong with me, she repeats over and over to herself. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She shivers, feeling cold. Her lips turn to ice.

The crawling dread that the others do not desire her; that her offering before them is unacceptable, fills her with nothing new but brings not the solace of the familiar. Instead, rejection rides her chest like an expectant predator.

~ The sounds of zips being drawn downwards; of clothing being shed.

She realises that they are stripping themselves naked, stroking themselves, running their hands over their growing cocks. She has a longing to touch them, all of them, one after the other, stroke them until each of them erupt and anoint her with the slickness of their burning lust.

~ Murmurs roll and merge with the scraping of her fuck-me sandals over the bed-linen until the sounds become one; an invisible tsunami, a tidal wave that washes over her.

~ Holding tight to part of her, she waits for the others.






http://180mag.ca/0912/fontenoy/fontenoy1.jpg​
 
Everyone - - - very nice. Thank you so much for contributing today. :kiss: :)

Thank you for adding to the thread Kylan, a very nice post.
 
http://i.istockimg.com/file_thumbview_approve/20469460/1/stock-photo-20469460-romantic-woman-in-park.jpg


He stood still as a statue, cammoflaughed by the thick copse around him. Only his eyes moved, tracking the activity in the clearing. He was unaware of the ferocious expression on his face, of the sweat trickling down his temples. Using his mind to hide and control this many people at once took tremendous effort and strength. Inexoribly, his eyes moved back to the girl.

So perfect, he thought, an angel bestowed on him by the gods. Her golden hair shone in the sunlight, a halo of flowers gracing the top of her head. Her delicate features were enough to drive him crazy, but her lips, those cherry red, kissable lips, held his attention. He longed to feel them under his own, to breach her defenses and plunge inside and taste.

She changed from pose to pose with fluid grace, smiling into the camera and laughing with delight as the photographer shot with mad abandon.

The watcher concentrated, sending out instructions to everyone present. He smiled with satisfaction as they all began to turn away, each for a seemingly legitimate purpose. The photographer's camera jammed, so he turned to go fix it. The lighting man decided to grab a smoke. The guy holding the film headed for the cooler in the van, and the makeup and clothing girls wandered away, chatting. The girl continued to pose, lost in her movements, unaware that she was being controlled.

Minutes later, they all returned. The photographer frowned, then demanded angrily, "Miranda? Where did you go?"

Ten minutes later, they were all asking that question as the search began. She was gone without a trace.
 
Angellica1612 said:
Ten minutes later, they were all asking that question as the search began. She was gone without a trace.
Click to expand...

*waves hand urgently*

Ooh, please Miss. Miss! I know who did it! I know who stole the Angel away.

It was Mutato. :D:D
 
Jett_73 said:
He sighed.

One day he really was going to have to tell Barbara that they weren't on water restrictions any more.

One day ...
Click to expand...

Classic. :D I love it. :D

Angellica1612 said:
http://i.istockimg.com/file_thumbview_approve/20469460/1/stock-photo-20469460-romantic-woman-in-park.jpg


He stood still as a statue, cammoflaughed by the thick copse around him. Only his eyes moved, tracking the activity in the clearing. He was unaware of the ferocious expression on his face, of the sweat trickling down his temples. Using his mind to hide and control this many people at once took tremendous effort and strength. Inexoribly, his eyes moved back to the girl.

So perfect, he thought, an angel bestowed on him by the gods. Her golden hair shone in the sunlight, a halo of flowers gracing the top of her head. Her delicate features were enough to drive him crazy, but her lips, those cherry red, kissable lips, held his attention. He longed to feel them under his own, to breach her defenses and plunge inside and taste.

She changed from pose to pose with fluid grace, smiling into the camera and laughing with delight as the photographer shot with mad abandon.

The watcher concentrated, sending out instructions to everyone present. He smiled with satisfaction as they all began to turn away, each for a seemingly legitimate purpose. The photographer's camera jammed, so he turned to go fix it. The lighting man decided to grab a smoke. The guy holding the film headed for the cooler in the van, and the makeup and clothing girls wandered away, chatting. The girl continued to pose, lost in her movements, unaware that she was being controlled.

Minutes later, they all returned. The photographer frowned, then demanded angrily, "Miranda? Where did you go?"

Ten minutes later, they were all asking that question as the search began. She was gone without a trace.
Click to expand...

Mmm... nice mystery. :D
 
The air was cold and the director's eyes were upon her. She had demanded that Nova show off her breasts and as Nova did so, the young innocent's nipples perked and her sex tightened. The director watched as a small wet stain appeared on the ebony haired girl's panties. When the rising star lifted her leg to cover the knowing sign, the director shook her head no.

Nova bit her lower lip, her brow furrowed and her pulse raced.

http://allladyboys.com/thumbs/7/7965.jpg

The director walked over and cupped the girl's breasts, bent down and began to lick and suck on the dark areola. The ridges came to life under the gentle sliding of the woman's tongue and when Nova whimpered, the director knew that the young woman would not be an innocent for very long.
 
She wasn't quite ready to show him all of her online, so she asked permission to compromise. He knew she was still very insecure about her scars - scars that he swore to her only made her more beautiful. They were the scars of giving life and surviving it. Two Cesareans and an emergency skin surgery had left her damaged in her eyes. Someday he would conquer that insecurity, she knew this, but for now as she proudly stood in front of the cam and let him see how far she'd come with her self-bondage and rope play the redhead blushed and chewed softly on her lower lip.

http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_leqhcoZxhx1qalt7yo1_400.jpg
 
He stared at the woman lying on his desk, her back arched and her body spotlighted by the moon that shone in through the 53rd floor office window. They had teased and flirted for years, but not once had either of them made the move to take it any further. Obviously she was tired of waiting.

How would her breasts feel under his palms? Would her nipples grow more taunt when his lips caressed them? There was a soft patch of hair that was neatly groomed and for the first time in his life he longed to nuzzle the curls and not shy away from them. Her hips flared slightly; he could almost feel the bones as he imagined his hand gliding down the slope. Would she giggle, when he ran his tongue along her rib cage?

His fingers curled into fists as he closed the distance separating them. He reached her side, ran his palm over her abdomen, up her torso and between her breasts. He reached her neck and for a moment held her life in his hands. Her pulse raced; he felt it dance faster as he leaned down and began to ease their frustrations.

http://moso-technology.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/330ee88ee7n_0001.jpg.jpg
 
http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5jb9csWBk1r5jqq2o1_500.jpg

Roses, her favorite flower. She had them freshly cut in vases all around the house. They gave her such an uplift when she was down. They gave her such a rush of passion whenever I was away. I can’t remember of a time when she didn’t have at least one somewhere in our home.

It has been six years since she passed. Though I never have them around me, I can still smell their fragrance. When I’m alone, when I’m lonely, the flower’s aroma comes to me, reminding me of her, of her smile.

I miss her.
 
Jett_73 said:
Sometimes, you cannot hide ...

Her anticipation always waxed with the moon.

Isobel's need grew as the moon neared the peak of her cycle. She hungrily watched the pale white light strengthen night by night. She felt the answering stir in her blood and soul. She savoured it; revelled in the delicious agony of frustrated tension, in the unearthly desire of her desperate lust. Not long now. Tomorrow the moon would be full. Then so would she. Tomorrow.

Sebastian watched her restlessly pacing. She was a caged cat. A langorous, deadly panther. Her eyes, like her hair, dark as midnight; alabaster skin ghostly luminous in the moonlit room. Her every movement was sinuous with lethal grace. He smiled to himself as his slate grey eyes marked her passage. The moonlight glinted for a moment in their cold depths as he turned his head.

"Come", he commanded, and held out his hand.

She spun suddenly as if leashed and padded to crouch against the back of his chair. He imagined her tail - if cat she had been in truth - twitching in annoyance despite the outward show of obedience. The thought amused him.

"Patience, little one. Control yourself for one more night. Tomorrow, we hunt."

:kiss:
Click to expand...

Need. More. Please.

RjThoughts said:
http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5jb9csWBk1r5jqq2o1_500.jpg

Roses, her favorite flower. She had them freshly cut in vases all around the house. They gave her such an uplift when she was down. They gave her such a rush of passion whenever I was away. I can’t remember of a time when she didn’t have at least one somewhere in our home.

It has been six years since she passed. Though I never have them around me, I can still smell their fragrance. When I’m alone, when I’m lonely, the flower’s aroma comes to me, reminding me of her, of her smile.

I miss her.
Click to expand...

Simply beautiful. So brief, and so touching. :rose:
 
FakeaSmile said:
http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lukeklYD6q1r38pteo1_500.jpg
Click to expand...

Cara stood naked in the middle of the room.

She could hear the sound of her own breathing; feel the rapid beat of her pulse as her heart pounded within her chest. The smell of the air tantalised her with the promise of ... well ... anticipation. Although perhaps that was just her imagination.
It was amazing how much sight overshadowed all the other senses. But with vision denied, the others slowly awoke from their subconscious slumber to exert their impressions upon her.

And then: touch. The suddenness, the unexpectedness of it, made her shiver. The hairs rose on her arms and goosepimples broke out on her skin. Her hands were drawn behind her back as a single word whispered in her ear.

"Kneel".
 
http://i.istockimg.com/file_thumbview_approve/20472182/1/stock-photo-20472182-two-girls-in-the-hay.jpg


Morlun stared with fascination as the two wood nymphs cavorted in the clearing, their laughter like the tinkle of broken glass, showering down over him. They danced, holding hands, smiling, their eyes shining like stars. He stayed very, very still, hidden in the thick bushes, though he longed to join them. The nymphs collapsed to the ground, giggling loudly, then spoke to one another in a language he didn't understand. He froze when they both seemed to look directly at him.

"Come play with us," said one of them in a voice of velvet, and the other crooked her finger at him.

Morlun swallowed hard, his heart roaring like a freight train in his ears. He slowly pushed his way through into the clearing, and the two sat up, smiling. As he approached, they stripped off their shirts. His eyes went wide as their full, gorgeous, bountiful mounds shimmered in the sunlight, their tips rosy and pointed. His body reacted, and in that moment, he knew this was but a dream.
 
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