Risen
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Oct 30, 2010
- Posts
- 217
Since reading your note a day or two ago I have let my mind wrap itself around the question. What were you to be to me? I don't know, but it would have been a good ride. Images have flirted with me: My cyber whore sprawled across cold concrete, naked, scratched, bruised and dripping with desire for more, looking up at me and biting your lip just to add one more screaming sensation to the dozens already coursing over your mental flesh? A distant, untouchable friend? All and none? I don't know, it needed the intertwining of two provocative souls and the catalysts of confidence, trust and time. Still, I count it no loss. You provoked me in your own beautiful way, like a rose just a little too far away to bury my nose into, and temporary, soon to be spent in the sun kissed quest for dominance over all the other little, lesser flowers in the garden of two minds. Yet still it was it's own blessing just to have been able to see the petals unfold for a day or two.
I've not one regret associated with you, only my own similar wondering, what might you have been to me? I could never have invaded your world, except to exert my will over the small part of it we shared here in Lit and have you humble yourself for me at most. Yours is a lovely way, and I thank you for sharing it with me while you did. I thank you for drawing out a desire in me to write a little more beautifully than I normally would. I thank you for the times that you set my blood to raging fire inside me, and for the rare times that the energy it created reached it's peak and drained me.
Those fleeting moments when you did open yourself to me left me stunned and enflamed by the weight of them. They were full of dancing, swaying promise set to an unworldly tune and I will hold that melody trapped, caged in the back of my mind, letting it out only when there is the rare song worthy of it's memory. Even then it will be bound in chains, for too much light might redden the color if it's pale, enslaved existence in the dark corners of my own imagination.
Yes, it was a ride.
You Ausus are a beatiful little sharp tongued wench that for a moment I found adorable. Only a bitterly tight gag would keep you from proving it.
Go with grace lover.
Risen
I've not one regret associated with you, only my own similar wondering, what might you have been to me? I could never have invaded your world, except to exert my will over the small part of it we shared here in Lit and have you humble yourself for me at most. Yours is a lovely way, and I thank you for sharing it with me while you did. I thank you for drawing out a desire in me to write a little more beautifully than I normally would. I thank you for the times that you set my blood to raging fire inside me, and for the rare times that the energy it created reached it's peak and drained me.
Those fleeting moments when you did open yourself to me left me stunned and enflamed by the weight of them. They were full of dancing, swaying promise set to an unworldly tune and I will hold that melody trapped, caged in the back of my mind, letting it out only when there is the rare song worthy of it's memory. Even then it will be bound in chains, for too much light might redden the color if it's pale, enslaved existence in the dark corners of my own imagination.
Yes, it was a ride.
You Ausus are a beatiful little sharp tongued wench that for a moment I found adorable. Only a bitterly tight gag would keep you from proving it.
Go with grace lover.
Risen
