Scuttle Buttin'
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I'll get a character description up shortly.
The story of Mary Magdaline - an alternate take.
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Mystical Avalon
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Shall I post an interest or a character description? 
Scuttle Buttin'
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A character description would be lovely.Mystical Avalon said:Shall I post an interest or a character description?
The question then becomes - does Mary set her sights on Peter, or on Jesus himself?
Mystical Avalon
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I will let you ponder that. So here I go. And mind you, this is a very alternate take on an age old story so history will take a backseat and yes I will be taking a lot of liberties with this character.
Mary Magdalene was at first glimpse a frail woman. She stood just above 5'6 and weighed no more than a clay water pot. She lived with her ailing mother whom had leprosy. Everyone in town knew she frequented the lesser drogues and hovels for what money she could make selling not only the things she made but herself as well. On those occasions, she would wear her least tattered shift covered with a white sari, her dark brown hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck with what cord she could find.
Pinching her cheeks for just the right amount of color, she would take a stick covered in soot from the fire and trace her bright blue eyes, then with a douseing of scented oil, she would walk the mile or so to whatever place was a bustle and into the doors she would go attempting to make what few pences she could. On many nights, she was glad to have a taste of the wine and the loudness of the men talking. Other nights, she would have liked nothing better than to lie in her straw bedding and wish for an angel to rescue her.
That wish came a few nights after her most violent encounter. Bruised and worn, she stood at the well gathering water when a voice behind her spoke.
"A drink lady for a weary traveler" it said. Something about the soothing way he spoke seemed to quiet the demons racing inside her.
"A drink lady?" he asked again. This time, gathering a dipper full she held it to his mouth. When she spoke, her voice was small and unimportant.
"Sir, you look almost worn. PLease, let me offer you some bread and wine from my home. I am Mary. Mary Magdalene. Please, allow me to assist your rest" she said. Holding her breath waiting for his reply, she watched him never taking her eyes from him.
Mary Magdalene was at first glimpse a frail woman. She stood just above 5'6 and weighed no more than a clay water pot. She lived with her ailing mother whom had leprosy. Everyone in town knew she frequented the lesser drogues and hovels for what money she could make selling not only the things she made but herself as well. On those occasions, she would wear her least tattered shift covered with a white sari, her dark brown hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck with what cord she could find.
Pinching her cheeks for just the right amount of color, she would take a stick covered in soot from the fire and trace her bright blue eyes, then with a douseing of scented oil, she would walk the mile or so to whatever place was a bustle and into the doors she would go attempting to make what few pences she could. On many nights, she was glad to have a taste of the wine and the loudness of the men talking. Other nights, she would have liked nothing better than to lie in her straw bedding and wish for an angel to rescue her.
That wish came a few nights after her most violent encounter. Bruised and worn, she stood at the well gathering water when a voice behind her spoke.
"A drink lady for a weary traveler" it said. Something about the soothing way he spoke seemed to quiet the demons racing inside her.
"A drink lady?" he asked again. This time, gathering a dipper full she held it to his mouth. When she spoke, her voice was small and unimportant.
"Sir, you look almost worn. PLease, let me offer you some bread and wine from my home. I am Mary. Mary Magdalene. Please, allow me to assist your rest" she said. Holding her breath waiting for his reply, she watched him never taking her eyes from him.
Scuttle Buttin'
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Being weary was a glorious, awful feeling he'd never get used to, likely never enjoy, and probably never want to be without again. As one who had been there when life itself was created, it was interesting to now be a part of that life, and to exist in the same mortal coil that had once not even existed. Things like the aching of his feet, the sore spot in the middle of his back, and the dryness of his eyes were still new to him, even after a childhood spent with the knowledge that you were different from everyone around you.
There was something else different as well, however. While he would agree wholeheartedly that all of creation was beautiful, there was a new facet of it that he was noticing now, and had begun to notice since he was around the age of 15: the human female. He was there, a part of the three-in-one that had created male and female in their form, and knew why women were shaped the way they were. Breasts to feed babies, hips curved outward to facilitate birth (although thanks to Adam, Eve, and the apple, it was still most painful). But as women passed him by, he couldn't help but to notice the shape of their breasts, the peaks of nipples that were occasionally evident under the cloths draped over their bodies. In some ways, it made him like a curious child, wishing to know more fully of the human experience he'd watched for centuries but only now could be a part of. He'd seen literally billions of women naked - being able to see everything, everywhere, all at the same time made such most simple - but it had done nothing for him. Now, however, he had a feeling that his reaction would be quite different.
What was he doing at this well, however?
Oh yes, he said to himself as Mary Magdaline approached, Mary.
His voice was quite and low as he asked her once, twice for a drink, but he knew that it penetrated the always loud area surrounding the well. He knew this simply because he wished it so. And eventually she had complied, offering the dipper of water for his dry lips. He turned so he more fully faced her, his eyes locking on hers for a moment, the sharp, piercing blue of his eyes a contrast to the dark hair that hung to his shoulders and the scruffle of dark beard that adorned his face. He was a man of average height and build, and likely would not stand out in the crowd were it not for his eyes and his voice. Both of these things Mary noticed right away. Of this, he had no doubt.
Reaching out to her, he slid his hand over her smaller one, steading the ladel before drinking the cool, refreshing water from it. He was greatful for the moisture it added to his throat, but still his voice did not rise louder to pierce through the din of the crowd noise around them. In this moment, the storm that had lifted Noah and his boat could be raging around them, and each would clearly hear the other person.
"Yes, Mary. I will take you up on the kind offer. Please, though, give me your water." And then he rose, taller than her by a fair five inches or more, and took the clay jar of water from her hands, his sandals kicking up dust around their ankles. "Please led me to your home, Mary... and call me Jesus."
There was something else different as well, however. While he would agree wholeheartedly that all of creation was beautiful, there was a new facet of it that he was noticing now, and had begun to notice since he was around the age of 15: the human female. He was there, a part of the three-in-one that had created male and female in their form, and knew why women were shaped the way they were. Breasts to feed babies, hips curved outward to facilitate birth (although thanks to Adam, Eve, and the apple, it was still most painful). But as women passed him by, he couldn't help but to notice the shape of their breasts, the peaks of nipples that were occasionally evident under the cloths draped over their bodies. In some ways, it made him like a curious child, wishing to know more fully of the human experience he'd watched for centuries but only now could be a part of. He'd seen literally billions of women naked - being able to see everything, everywhere, all at the same time made such most simple - but it had done nothing for him. Now, however, he had a feeling that his reaction would be quite different.
What was he doing at this well, however?
Oh yes, he said to himself as Mary Magdaline approached, Mary.
His voice was quite and low as he asked her once, twice for a drink, but he knew that it penetrated the always loud area surrounding the well. He knew this simply because he wished it so. And eventually she had complied, offering the dipper of water for his dry lips. He turned so he more fully faced her, his eyes locking on hers for a moment, the sharp, piercing blue of his eyes a contrast to the dark hair that hung to his shoulders and the scruffle of dark beard that adorned his face. He was a man of average height and build, and likely would not stand out in the crowd were it not for his eyes and his voice. Both of these things Mary noticed right away. Of this, he had no doubt.
Reaching out to her, he slid his hand over her smaller one, steading the ladel before drinking the cool, refreshing water from it. He was greatful for the moisture it added to his throat, but still his voice did not rise louder to pierce through the din of the crowd noise around them. In this moment, the storm that had lifted Noah and his boat could be raging around them, and each would clearly hear the other person.
"Yes, Mary. I will take you up on the kind offer. Please, though, give me your water." And then he rose, taller than her by a fair five inches or more, and took the clay jar of water from her hands, his sandals kicking up dust around their ankles. "Please led me to your home, Mary... and call me Jesus."
Mystical Avalon
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Nodding, taking only his hand, she led him to her home. A mud hut covered in palm fronds with no more than a plank for the door.
"Sir, it is out of respect that I ask you to not let my mother's condition worry you for she keeps to herself most days and is not interested in life around her. She has leprosy and the ailment to which she possesses there is no cure. What I would wish is that you no notice her" she said offering entrance into her home.
Stepping from the heat down into the coolness, she felt a shiver rise up her spine and goosbumps pop out on her skin. THis man, Jesus, made her fell alive in more ways than anyone ever had. He had a quality about him, she knew she could love. Yet, would the fact that she was a whore send him to the streets crying Harlot, like a zealot? She wanted only to offer him companionship and maybe something more if he were carrying money.
"Please, take the chair at the window, there is always a breeze and I shall have you at the bread and wine in a minute" she said placing the clay pot in the darkened corner and reaching above the mantle for the carafe of wine. The bread stale but none the less edible, she took from the opening in the wall and placed it on a sheath. Handing them to the table, she watched as he delicately took them both and ate.
How maddening it was to watch him. Her mind wandered what his body was in comparison to the power in his voice. One command from him and she felt as if her stomach would burst and the wetness would seep inside her thighs.
"Please, Jesus, tell me of where it is you came. Silence is but a nuisance we are yet forced to endure only when alone" she said. Her voice, now the sweet harmonious thing she was used to, led her thoughts on her face openly.
"Sir, it is out of respect that I ask you to not let my mother's condition worry you for she keeps to herself most days and is not interested in life around her. She has leprosy and the ailment to which she possesses there is no cure. What I would wish is that you no notice her" she said offering entrance into her home.
Stepping from the heat down into the coolness, she felt a shiver rise up her spine and goosbumps pop out on her skin. THis man, Jesus, made her fell alive in more ways than anyone ever had. He had a quality about him, she knew she could love. Yet, would the fact that she was a whore send him to the streets crying Harlot, like a zealot? She wanted only to offer him companionship and maybe something more if he were carrying money.
"Please, take the chair at the window, there is always a breeze and I shall have you at the bread and wine in a minute" she said placing the clay pot in the darkened corner and reaching above the mantle for the carafe of wine. The bread stale but none the less edible, she took from the opening in the wall and placed it on a sheath. Handing them to the table, she watched as he delicately took them both and ate.
How maddening it was to watch him. Her mind wandered what his body was in comparison to the power in his voice. One command from him and she felt as if her stomach would burst and the wetness would seep inside her thighs.
"Please, Jesus, tell me of where it is you came. Silence is but a nuisance we are yet forced to endure only when alone" she said. Her voice, now the sweet harmonious thing she was used to, led her thoughts on her face openly.
Scuttle Buttin'
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Jesus followed Mary in silence, letting the woman speak freely with no inturreption - something she likely rarely recieved, both as a female and with her given profession.
"Please do not worry, Mary. I have no reason to be in fear of what your mother has had to endure. Please, be at ease. I do not come to be a burden to you."
He followed her into the relative coolness of her home, his steps taken with a grace that did not fit his size, and seemed almost unnatural. And yet, it somehow did not seem out of place with him, either. Moving into the chair that she offered to him, he glanced out the window at the breeze that was there as predicted, then turned his dark, deep eyes back to her, watching carefully at the way her body moved as she prepared wine and bread for him. He wanted this woman.
He wanted to know this woman in the way that men of the flesh knew women of the flesh. In the way that Adam had known Eve, an event he watched take place so long ago, and yet it seemed like almost yesterday. He knew he could make this woman's body respond to his every desire if he so decided - it was not generally hard to control one's own creation - but he found that he only wanted to do so if she desired it.
His eyes lifted to her face when she set the bread and wine before him, and he took a small chunk of bread (which was no longer stale) and placed it on his tongue, chewing slowly, thoughfully, in silence until her voice lifted above the gentle sound of the breeze coming in the window. He chased the small piece of bread down with a drink of wine, then turned his eyes to her as he set the humble little cup down on the small table. His voice remained quiet, soft yet somehow powerful.
"I am from Nazareth. Perhaps I will tell you more of myself later, but first I must tell you of yourself, Mary. I know you worry that I will discover you are a whore and cast you out to be stoned. I know you worry that I will run into the streets and yell that your mother is unclean and she will be cast out of the city. But worry not, Mary. I have not come to cast you, or her out. Let your heart relax. I have come to take you-"
His words were cut off by the shuffle of feet, and his lips curved into a smile as his head rose, his eyes meeting those of the newcomer to the small common room.
"Ah, here she is. I was beginning to think you would not come to join us," he said to her mother, now fully clear of her leprosy and looking as any other person would having just risen from bed. He rose from his chair and extended his hand to her, welcoming her forward. "Please woman, come to me."
"Please do not worry, Mary. I have no reason to be in fear of what your mother has had to endure. Please, be at ease. I do not come to be a burden to you."
He followed her into the relative coolness of her home, his steps taken with a grace that did not fit his size, and seemed almost unnatural. And yet, it somehow did not seem out of place with him, either. Moving into the chair that she offered to him, he glanced out the window at the breeze that was there as predicted, then turned his dark, deep eyes back to her, watching carefully at the way her body moved as she prepared wine and bread for him. He wanted this woman.
He wanted to know this woman in the way that men of the flesh knew women of the flesh. In the way that Adam had known Eve, an event he watched take place so long ago, and yet it seemed like almost yesterday. He knew he could make this woman's body respond to his every desire if he so decided - it was not generally hard to control one's own creation - but he found that he only wanted to do so if she desired it.
His eyes lifted to her face when she set the bread and wine before him, and he took a small chunk of bread (which was no longer stale) and placed it on his tongue, chewing slowly, thoughfully, in silence until her voice lifted above the gentle sound of the breeze coming in the window. He chased the small piece of bread down with a drink of wine, then turned his eyes to her as he set the humble little cup down on the small table. His voice remained quiet, soft yet somehow powerful.
"I am from Nazareth. Perhaps I will tell you more of myself later, but first I must tell you of yourself, Mary. I know you worry that I will discover you are a whore and cast you out to be stoned. I know you worry that I will run into the streets and yell that your mother is unclean and she will be cast out of the city. But worry not, Mary. I have not come to cast you, or her out. Let your heart relax. I have come to take you-"
His words were cut off by the shuffle of feet, and his lips curved into a smile as his head rose, his eyes meeting those of the newcomer to the small common room.
"Ah, here she is. I was beginning to think you would not come to join us," he said to her mother, now fully clear of her leprosy and looking as any other person would having just risen from bed. He rose from his chair and extended his hand to her, welcoming her forward. "Please woman, come to me."
Mystical Avalon
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The seering heat her body felt was almost unbearable. His voice seemd to ignite within her strange feelings she had never felt before. She watched as he ate the bread. She listened as his voice seemd to drip off his lips like honey. She gasped with awe at her mother, whom possessed of leprosy, walked to him, unfouled by the sin.
Shock and amazement swept her like rushing waters and she could not but gasp loudly once again. Her mother was a small woman and in light of what Mary herself had to do to make sure she was at least fed, her mother was unaware. Yet, here she stood, clean and unfoul smelling. This man, this person in her home was a wonder to behold.
She had heard tales from the well of a man that could heal with a touch, sooth with but a word and calm with just a smile. But this common lookong man could not be the giant of which the others so often spoke of as of late.
He was no miracle worker. He was just a man. Wasnt he?
"Mother, you should not be out of bed, you are not well." she said quickly walking to her. Taking her arm, the older lady insisted upon sitting with them at the table. Her smile faltered when she stumbled yet she was seemingly to be gaining strength with each step.
Mary met the blue eyes of the man in her kitchen. Seering torrents of lust rose within her and a blush crept over her face and bosom. He had seen and now, he would leave.
Praying within herself she begged God to let him stay a little longer. Just that, a little longer.
Shock and amazement swept her like rushing waters and she could not but gasp loudly once again. Her mother was a small woman and in light of what Mary herself had to do to make sure she was at least fed, her mother was unaware. Yet, here she stood, clean and unfoul smelling. This man, this person in her home was a wonder to behold.
She had heard tales from the well of a man that could heal with a touch, sooth with but a word and calm with just a smile. But this common lookong man could not be the giant of which the others so often spoke of as of late.
He was no miracle worker. He was just a man. Wasnt he?
"Mother, you should not be out of bed, you are not well." she said quickly walking to her. Taking her arm, the older lady insisted upon sitting with them at the table. Her smile faltered when she stumbled yet she was seemingly to be gaining strength with each step.
Mary met the blue eyes of the man in her kitchen. Seering torrents of lust rose within her and a blush crept over her face and bosom. He had seen and now, he would leave.
Praying within herself she begged God to let him stay a little longer. Just that, a little longer.
Rockingham
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"Your mother looks to be a handful," He eased to the other side of the old woman. She never faltered in her step, despite her old withered legs, shaking as they held her weight.
She seemed determined though, and stubborn at that. He had to smile to see such ferocity even in a woman as old as this.
He eased her into his own chair, and offered Mary the other one. For himself, he would stand.
He brought the old woman the stale bread, and the cup of wine. She looked hungry, famished even. As if it had been ages since she'd had a meal last.
"What a fine man you have finally found, young Mary. I am soo happy for my child. Proud too. You could not have picked a better man."
She seemed to be a little confused, but Jesus never corrected her.
"This young Mary is a catch as well."
The mother laughed at that, coughing up some of her bread, "You might not say that if you knew what she did."
"Oh? And what has this Mary done."
"She has found company with many a man. I know she didn't wish for me to know, but I found out. She had to find money however she can, once I grew sick. I could not work anymore. You need to understand, she is not a bad person... we only needed the money."
Jesus nodded, "Money seems important to some people. They will do most anything to get it."
"Wouldn't you?"
"No... I have no need for it."
"But, how will you eat, drink? Where will you live?"
"Such complicated questions, Mother. I eat when I am hungry, whatever God gives me. I drink when I am thirsty, whatever god gives me. And I live in God's kingdom, as all his children."
The mother's eyes lit up, "Oh yes, Mary, this one is a keeper. Oh... dear me. I think I do need some more rest."
Jesus helped her once more, easing her to her room. When she was resting, a soft sheet over her to keep out the cold, he took hold of Mary's hand.
"I think what you did was very brave... not everyone would sacrifice soo much to help their mother. You are a good person, Mary."
She seemed determined though, and stubborn at that. He had to smile to see such ferocity even in a woman as old as this.
He eased her into his own chair, and offered Mary the other one. For himself, he would stand.
He brought the old woman the stale bread, and the cup of wine. She looked hungry, famished even. As if it had been ages since she'd had a meal last.
"What a fine man you have finally found, young Mary. I am soo happy for my child. Proud too. You could not have picked a better man."
She seemed to be a little confused, but Jesus never corrected her.
"This young Mary is a catch as well."
The mother laughed at that, coughing up some of her bread, "You might not say that if you knew what she did."
"Oh? And what has this Mary done."
"She has found company with many a man. I know she didn't wish for me to know, but I found out. She had to find money however she can, once I grew sick. I could not work anymore. You need to understand, she is not a bad person... we only needed the money."
Jesus nodded, "Money seems important to some people. They will do most anything to get it."
"Wouldn't you?"
"No... I have no need for it."
"But, how will you eat, drink? Where will you live?"
"Such complicated questions, Mother. I eat when I am hungry, whatever God gives me. I drink when I am thirsty, whatever god gives me. And I live in God's kingdom, as all his children."
The mother's eyes lit up, "Oh yes, Mary, this one is a keeper. Oh... dear me. I think I do need some more rest."
Jesus helped her once more, easing her to her room. When she was resting, a soft sheet over her to keep out the cold, he took hold of Mary's hand.
"I think what you did was very brave... not everyone would sacrifice soo much to help their mother. You are a good person, Mary."
Mystical Avalon
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Mary wondered about the man holding her hand. He was gentle yet firm. His touch only heightened her need and want for him, yet she did not approach him so.
She merely nodded and allowed him to lead her to the front room where, they both stood looking into each others eyes. Something, something she could not put a finger on, led her to believe he was a different man.
His manner was easy and light as they spoke of the day and the travels he had made. Her mind was occupied on lecherous thoughts of fornication and things she could do to him if only allowed.
She could not conceal her thoughts and when acknowledged she felt the burn of crimson creep once again into her body.
"Please, forgive me. I only know what I am able. I do what I can. Money provides and yet, as I sit here, I wish not to make money but truley find a passion and a peace inside me. However, the realities of this are laid upon my shoulders as I watch my mother. She needs the medicine that money brings. Were it that there was a way to cure her, I could stop. I would stop" and with that, tears began to flow from her dark eyes.
Mary felt the hand on her shoulder, and the arms encircle her small frame. She was aware of his smell as it invaded her senses and his touch. His skin was slightly musky yet not overwhelming as most men. He was soft, like a child. He was easy with her.
She turned her tear stained face to his and was met with a loving glance.
She merely nodded and allowed him to lead her to the front room where, they both stood looking into each others eyes. Something, something she could not put a finger on, led her to believe he was a different man.
His manner was easy and light as they spoke of the day and the travels he had made. Her mind was occupied on lecherous thoughts of fornication and things she could do to him if only allowed.
She could not conceal her thoughts and when acknowledged she felt the burn of crimson creep once again into her body.
"Please, forgive me. I only know what I am able. I do what I can. Money provides and yet, as I sit here, I wish not to make money but truley find a passion and a peace inside me. However, the realities of this are laid upon my shoulders as I watch my mother. She needs the medicine that money brings. Were it that there was a way to cure her, I could stop. I would stop" and with that, tears began to flow from her dark eyes.
Mary felt the hand on her shoulder, and the arms encircle her small frame. She was aware of his smell as it invaded her senses and his touch. His skin was slightly musky yet not overwhelming as most men. He was soft, like a child. He was easy with her.
She turned her tear stained face to his and was met with a loving glance.
Rockingham
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"Is there not passion in your life, Mary? Is there not peace?"
A woman so troubled, burden on her shoulder like large barrels of water to carry up the hill. Some were there on purpose, he could see that, but others... others she put there herself.
"Is it only money stopping you from finding these things? Peace lies within you Mary... no one else but yourself. Here, let me show you."
He came close to her, wrapping his arms around her, hugging her, holding her. His hands were sure, caressing, slowly moving down between her breasts, touching where her heart is.
"There," He whispered, for her ear was right next to his, "Do you not feel peace now? Are the troubles inside you quiet, weakened?"
His lips were so soft, speaking these words heavy against her. His cheek caressed against hers, and his eyes closed for a moment, making a memory of her, completely and full.
"And passion is easy to get as well, Mary. Just tell me," Jesus had to move away, just enough to look her in the eyes, to make sure she saw him as he was now.
"Tell me what passions you, what inflames your heart, and I will get it for you. Whatever it is, however I can do it. Name it, Mary, and it is yours."
A woman so troubled, burden on her shoulder like large barrels of water to carry up the hill. Some were there on purpose, he could see that, but others... others she put there herself.
"Is it only money stopping you from finding these things? Peace lies within you Mary... no one else but yourself. Here, let me show you."
He came close to her, wrapping his arms around her, hugging her, holding her. His hands were sure, caressing, slowly moving down between her breasts, touching where her heart is.
"There," He whispered, for her ear was right next to his, "Do you not feel peace now? Are the troubles inside you quiet, weakened?"
His lips were so soft, speaking these words heavy against her. His cheek caressed against hers, and his eyes closed for a moment, making a memory of her, completely and full.
"And passion is easy to get as well, Mary. Just tell me," Jesus had to move away, just enough to look her in the eyes, to make sure she saw him as he was now.
"Tell me what passions you, what inflames your heart, and I will get it for you. Whatever it is, however I can do it. Name it, Mary, and it is yours."
Mystical Avalon
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His hands seemed to ignite a burning inside her that no other man had. She had lain with many a man and never had she felt the heat rising from inside her as now.
He touched her chest above her breast and in an instant she realized her nipples were hard pressed close to his own chest.
He held her away from his enough to look her in the eyes. Yes, she felt passion, she felt comforted. Yet, she felt unfulfilled. Needing something from him.
"I want rest and passion. I want to feel what the men feel as they enter me and take me in lewd places. I want to find the comfort in the acts those men would have me perform on them. Lord forgive me, but I would have you inside me all places you can fill with your manhood in acts deemed immoral and wrong. I would have you take me like the common whore that I am. Christ forgive me but I want this" she said tears running freely now. Her own needs betrayed her.
He touched her chest above her breast and in an instant she realized her nipples were hard pressed close to his own chest.
He held her away from his enough to look her in the eyes. Yes, she felt passion, she felt comforted. Yet, she felt unfulfilled. Needing something from him.
"I want rest and passion. I want to feel what the men feel as they enter me and take me in lewd places. I want to find the comfort in the acts those men would have me perform on them. Lord forgive me, but I would have you inside me all places you can fill with your manhood in acts deemed immoral and wrong. I would have you take me like the common whore that I am. Christ forgive me but I want this" she said tears running freely now. Her own needs betrayed her.
Rockingham
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"You want to feel as they do, taking someone for the pure pleasure, physical, raw with energy? Do you want me to be the whore, Mary? For you? I, the whore, and you, buying my body for a price, for you to use, as lewd and dirty as you'd like me."
He pushed her gently against the wall, his lips coming up to hers, kissing her once, lightly, pressing her body firmly into his. His hands went down, in search of her pocket, pulling out a single dinar.
It was nothing, a penny, barely worth a handful of dates.
"That is all I require... you have paid me, I am your whore now, Mary," He pocketed the dinar, kissing her again, harder this time, his tongue coming out to taste her salted lips.
"Be dirty, be raw..." He grabbed her thigh, picking it up, wrapping it around him, her sex hot and rigid against his cock. He grinded into her, letting her feel it.
His head dipped down, ripping her shirt open, watching her breasts come free, his lips already upon her nipple, taking it in, sucking it, diving into her flesh as if he had done this his whole life.
He nibbled on her, breathing in her heavy musk.
He pushed her gently against the wall, his lips coming up to hers, kissing her once, lightly, pressing her body firmly into his. His hands went down, in search of her pocket, pulling out a single dinar.
It was nothing, a penny, barely worth a handful of dates.
"That is all I require... you have paid me, I am your whore now, Mary," He pocketed the dinar, kissing her again, harder this time, his tongue coming out to taste her salted lips.
"Be dirty, be raw..." He grabbed her thigh, picking it up, wrapping it around him, her sex hot and rigid against his cock. He grinded into her, letting her feel it.
His head dipped down, ripping her shirt open, watching her breasts come free, his lips already upon her nipple, taking it in, sucking it, diving into her flesh as if he had done this his whole life.
He nibbled on her, breathing in her heavy musk.
Mystical Avalon
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She felt free. For once, she was the receiver of services. She felt his hot breath against her sweat covered skin as he seem to hold her in thin air against the cobbled walls.
She moaned loudly not caring if her mother came in and saw her. She needed this more and wanted it more. She would allow him access to every place he desired something she had not and could not do with other men.
She lay her head against the hardness of the wall and ran her fingers through his hair. Holding his head at her breast, she allowed him to suckle much as a child.
She was aware of his every move. His fingers on her bottom as they probed her holes, front and back. The skillful way he pressed against her letting her feel him. His mouth warming her erect nipples. His whole body loose and lithe against her and the wall.
She wiggled against his hand as his fingers found their prize and easily slid inside her warmth. Most of the men would not give her the nod for this type of caressing yet, here he stood allowing her her own pleasure.
The friction he created probing his fingers inside her walls made her only want him more and again she moaned loudly. She was a whore yet she felt more a woman at this moment than she had her whole life.
She moaned loudly not caring if her mother came in and saw her. She needed this more and wanted it more. She would allow him access to every place he desired something she had not and could not do with other men.
She lay her head against the hardness of the wall and ran her fingers through his hair. Holding his head at her breast, she allowed him to suckle much as a child.
She was aware of his every move. His fingers on her bottom as they probed her holes, front and back. The skillful way he pressed against her letting her feel him. His mouth warming her erect nipples. His whole body loose and lithe against her and the wall.
She wiggled against his hand as his fingers found their prize and easily slid inside her warmth. Most of the men would not give her the nod for this type of caressing yet, here he stood allowing her her own pleasure.
The friction he created probing his fingers inside her walls made her only want him more and again she moaned loudly. She was a whore yet she felt more a woman at this moment than she had her whole life.
Rockingham
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He moved down her body, slowly, caressing her sweet flesh as he did so. His tongue was a tendril upon her skin, trailing and lavishing her everywhere he could.
She was grinding into his hand now, as fingers touched and probed. Her hips jutting back and forth, lewd, wrong, dirty. It was all dirty like this, rutting in heat, desire running through them.
Jesus, on his knees, before her, stripped her of the last of her clothes, revealing her pale thighs, her shapely legs, and the small V of her sex. His mouth was upon it at once. Tongue pushing inside of her.
The taste of it, her free juices running down his chin were the source of immeasurable pleasure. His tongue was soft and curious, licking against her, feeling her, pressing into the soft cleft of her body.
He pressed in further, penetrating, his tongue being swallowed by her cunt, those perfect pussy lips surrounding him. Juice fell freely onto his tongue now, filling his mouth. He had to swallow her, each mouthful better than the last.
She was grinding into his hand now, as fingers touched and probed. Her hips jutting back and forth, lewd, wrong, dirty. It was all dirty like this, rutting in heat, desire running through them.
Jesus, on his knees, before her, stripped her of the last of her clothes, revealing her pale thighs, her shapely legs, and the small V of her sex. His mouth was upon it at once. Tongue pushing inside of her.
The taste of it, her free juices running down his chin were the source of immeasurable pleasure. His tongue was soft and curious, licking against her, feeling her, pressing into the soft cleft of her body.
He pressed in further, penetrating, his tongue being swallowed by her cunt, those perfect pussy lips surrounding him. Juice fell freely onto his tongue now, filling his mouth. He had to swallow her, each mouthful better than the last.
Mystical Avalon
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She could only oblige him as he continued exploring her depths. She had had many lovers in her time but none with the inexperience and skill that she had now.
She really could not say inexperience, for he seemed to know what he was doing. Much as the younger men do when they get nervous about laying with a whore. Yet she complained not at all. She wanted to have him inside her more ways than there were days in the year. Yet she felt reserved to allow him to do at his own liking.
She neither pressed him to move forward with their coupling. She knew he would do what he felt he wanted. All she could do was hold on until she was ready for release and then allow her body to act on its own.
In her mind, she was suddenly aware of whom she was. But, now, with him buried in her folds, she pushed the images out of her mind and recalled the one of him, just before he disappeared between her thighs. The beautiful face and the serene eyes.
She really could not say inexperience, for he seemed to know what he was doing. Much as the younger men do when they get nervous about laying with a whore. Yet she complained not at all. She wanted to have him inside her more ways than there were days in the year. Yet she felt reserved to allow him to do at his own liking.
She neither pressed him to move forward with their coupling. She knew he would do what he felt he wanted. All she could do was hold on until she was ready for release and then allow her body to act on its own.
In her mind, she was suddenly aware of whom she was. But, now, with him buried in her folds, she pushed the images out of her mind and recalled the one of him, just before he disappeared between her thighs. The beautiful face and the serene eyes.
Rockingham
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To feel her juices running down, to see them stick to her skin, those parted thighs. Each lick could not get it all, demanding another and another.
Her up against the wall, shaking, shivering from his touch. He held her up, helping her, licking her. His tongue wild and drawn against her skin, moving in further, pressing against her folds.
His hands drawn to her, full and sensitive. they touched with the soft caress of a lover, bringing her closer, touching her fuller.
When he came up to her, pressing his body into hers, he kissed her upon the lips, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
"What do you want, dear sweet Mary? I am yours... remember? You have paid for me... I am your whore. Tell me what to do. I am yours to command."
Her up against the wall, shaking, shivering from his touch. He held her up, helping her, licking her. His tongue wild and drawn against her skin, moving in further, pressing against her folds.
His hands drawn to her, full and sensitive. they touched with the soft caress of a lover, bringing her closer, touching her fuller.
When he came up to her, pressing his body into hers, he kissed her upon the lips, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
"What do you want, dear sweet Mary? I am yours... remember? You have paid for me... I am your whore. Tell me what to do. I am yours to command."
Mystical Avalon
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No one had obliged her her name before and the sound it held on the air was musical. He wanted direction from her. He wanted to know what SHE herself wanted. She cold only stare into those eyes.
Her own salty taste ligering on her tongue, she parted her lips.
"Inside me. I want to feel your heat inside me" she said. It was not a request more of a need. A want, urgently. She grasped at him holding his body to hers, not wanting to put so much as air between them. She allowed him to step back and slowly remove the fabric he wore.
She gasped in awe as his body shone in the rays of sunlight. Beautiful. Amazingly developed, he had the body of Adonis himself. Yet, buried beneath the patch of hair was really and truley a worldly site.
She had seen many cocks in her time yet known she felt so drawn to taste. And in that need, set to her knees and took it into her hungry mouth. Lapping his own taste to hers, she licked the shaft and head allowing not a second to pass unused.
Her own salty taste ligering on her tongue, she parted her lips.
"Inside me. I want to feel your heat inside me" she said. It was not a request more of a need. A want, urgently. She grasped at him holding his body to hers, not wanting to put so much as air between them. She allowed him to step back and slowly remove the fabric he wore.
She gasped in awe as his body shone in the rays of sunlight. Beautiful. Amazingly developed, he had the body of Adonis himself. Yet, buried beneath the patch of hair was really and truley a worldly site.
She had seen many cocks in her time yet known she felt so drawn to taste. And in that need, set to her knees and took it into her hungry mouth. Lapping his own taste to hers, she licked the shaft and head allowing not a second to pass unused.
Rockingham
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The feel of her mouth, heavenly. Worldly, she knew how to do what she was doing. He let his fingers run through her hair, feeling the whisps of her tongue along his cock. He had to moan, aloud, share his need with her, the true desire running inside of him.
Nothing could stop this moment, so pure, so perfect. She knew just what to do. She looked so beautiful on her knees, licking him, sucking him, taking the heat, taste, hardness of his cock fully inside of her waiting and eager mouth.
"It is yours, Mary," He said, half grunting as his hips began rocking into her, "You paid for it... it is your cock to use."
Nothing could stop this moment, so pure, so perfect. She knew just what to do. She looked so beautiful on her knees, licking him, sucking him, taking the heat, taste, hardness of his cock fully inside of her waiting and eager mouth.
"It is yours, Mary," He said, half grunting as his hips began rocking into her, "You paid for it... it is your cock to use."
Mystical Avalon
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She eagerly devoured him. Each time he spoke it was if he were encouraging her on. Without hesitation, she began sucking his cock. Forcefully, rocking him with each stroke of her tongue, up and down the shaft catching just a touch of his scent now and then.
Delving as deep as she could, she allowed him to rest just inside the back of her throat for a minute then pulling him back out, she once again burried him to the hilt. She longed to taste the familiar white stickiness that often times came from her doing just this. But he was not like the others. Inside her head, she could hear him speaking to her.
This only served to heighten her want. With an audible plop, she pulled him free of her mouth as she needed to feel him more inside her than ever,
Standing, she met his gaze and taking his hand, she pulled him behind the ratty curtain into her sleeping quarters. A pile of hay covered in blankets with a down pillow lay in the corner.
"Here, you shall take me here. I need you to take me, hard. Spare me no kindness" she said allowing the rest of her shift to fall to the floor. She stood there in front of him, naked. Allowing him to see her body, the way it should be seen. Unclothed, uncovered, natural.
Delving as deep as she could, she allowed him to rest just inside the back of her throat for a minute then pulling him back out, she once again burried him to the hilt. She longed to taste the familiar white stickiness that often times came from her doing just this. But he was not like the others. Inside her head, she could hear him speaking to her.
This only served to heighten her want. With an audible plop, she pulled him free of her mouth as she needed to feel him more inside her than ever,
Standing, she met his gaze and taking his hand, she pulled him behind the ratty curtain into her sleeping quarters. A pile of hay covered in blankets with a down pillow lay in the corner.
"Here, you shall take me here. I need you to take me, hard. Spare me no kindness" she said allowing the rest of her shift to fall to the floor. She stood there in front of him, naked. Allowing him to see her body, the way it should be seen. Unclothed, uncovered, natural.
Rockingham
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He came to her, as naked as she, devoid of anything fake or unnatural. They were together, and when skin touched briefly against skin the world lit up in unimaginable ways.
He devoured her. Her scent, her taste, her touch. It was all his for the taking. Lips and tongue and fingers, gently playing against her skin, anywhere, everywhere.
Grunting, pushing her to the bed, lowering himself on top of her. He forced her legs open, pushing them wide, allowing him access. One graceful thigh rode along his hip, a foot capturing him, keeping him close. His cock touched against her sex for the first time.
Sparks of lust ran through his eyes. He looked down, down between them, his cock standing, straining against her, pointing down to her matted sex.
He reached down, guiding it, positioning it. She was no virgin, but she would be taken. He closed his eyes, as they touched. His cock found her entrance, pulled in by her heat, warm drops of her cum sticking to him.
It pushed inside. His hips rolled into hers, his cock found its home, pushing into her. One bright thrust slammed him home, driving her down onto the bed. In one stroke he mounted her, on top, crying out, his mouth agasp at her touch, the true pleasure of being inside of her.
The tight folds, the rising heat, her juices flowing over and over again, wetting them both. As he took her bright sweat appeared all over his body, making him glow, pushing him passed anything he'd ever felt before.
He slammed into her again. Loving the feel of her body as it gave way. She offered no resistance, only to accept him, to guide him where he needed to be. And he needed to be deep inside of her, plunging away.
He devoured her. Her scent, her taste, her touch. It was all his for the taking. Lips and tongue and fingers, gently playing against her skin, anywhere, everywhere.
Grunting, pushing her to the bed, lowering himself on top of her. He forced her legs open, pushing them wide, allowing him access. One graceful thigh rode along his hip, a foot capturing him, keeping him close. His cock touched against her sex for the first time.
Sparks of lust ran through his eyes. He looked down, down between them, his cock standing, straining against her, pointing down to her matted sex.
He reached down, guiding it, positioning it. She was no virgin, but she would be taken. He closed his eyes, as they touched. His cock found her entrance, pulled in by her heat, warm drops of her cum sticking to him.
It pushed inside. His hips rolled into hers, his cock found its home, pushing into her. One bright thrust slammed him home, driving her down onto the bed. In one stroke he mounted her, on top, crying out, his mouth agasp at her touch, the true pleasure of being inside of her.
The tight folds, the rising heat, her juices flowing over and over again, wetting them both. As he took her bright sweat appeared all over his body, making him glow, pushing him passed anything he'd ever felt before.
He slammed into her again. Loving the feel of her body as it gave way. She offered no resistance, only to accept him, to guide him where he needed to be. And he needed to be deep inside of her, plunging away.
SuthernCumfort
doin it suthern style
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Mystical Problems
(Just to let you know. My Mystical Avalon Account is screwed up so I am posting under my alt. Thought I would tell ya.)
She felt the instant gratification when he entered her. Crying out his name, she allowed herself to open up to him. His rigidness filled her like no other. Holding fast to him as he pushed inside her, she threw her head back and uttered a moan. Loudly, yet only inside this room she thought.
Yet, she lay splayed underneath him as he plundered her sex with his cock. Deeper and deeper as if he were searching for her soul, he thrust inside her wetness. She felt her body pull at his own sucking him inside her. Her need arose greater than before and soon she was matching his thrusts with those of her own.
Over and over, she felt a renewed vigor with each thrust and pull of his cock against her sex. The wetness ran freely and like a warm water covered them both until she felt the stirrings of her own release building.
"Yes, take me. Yes that is so good. AH More PLease more" she moaned as the tingling inside her loins soon gave way to shuddering climaxes.
(Just to let you know. My Mystical Avalon Account is screwed up so I am posting under my alt. Thought I would tell ya.)
She felt the instant gratification when he entered her. Crying out his name, she allowed herself to open up to him. His rigidness filled her like no other. Holding fast to him as he pushed inside her, she threw her head back and uttered a moan. Loudly, yet only inside this room she thought.
Yet, she lay splayed underneath him as he plundered her sex with his cock. Deeper and deeper as if he were searching for her soul, he thrust inside her wetness. She felt her body pull at his own sucking him inside her. Her need arose greater than before and soon she was matching his thrusts with those of her own.
Over and over, she felt a renewed vigor with each thrust and pull of his cock against her sex. The wetness ran freely and like a warm water covered them both until she felt the stirrings of her own release building.
"Yes, take me. Yes that is so good. AH More PLease more" she moaned as the tingling inside her loins soon gave way to shuddering climaxes.
Rockingham
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"That is right," he cooed into her ear, feeling her body wash over with a shuddering peak of pleasure. It rammed into her, again and again, relentless. She pushed herself onto his cock as hard as she could, unyielding.
Each time he whispered dirty thoughts into her ear, helping her, telling her to cum. He needed to hear it, to find her shouting, shivering all over his cock.
"Look at it," Down, between their bodies, where they emerged together, joining, fighting for dominance. Her cunt willing, giving into him, and his own cock diving and pounding away with little force.
He grabbed at her hair, pulling her over onto her back. Knees up, head down into the blanket, her thighs closed together, glistening sex winking up at he moved to her, mounting her, lining up his sex.
One swift sweet move pushed him inside, taking her from behind. He gripped the wall with one hand, her hip with the other, once more using her for what she was.
Each time he whispered dirty thoughts into her ear, helping her, telling her to cum. He needed to hear it, to find her shouting, shivering all over his cock.
"Look at it," Down, between their bodies, where they emerged together, joining, fighting for dominance. Her cunt willing, giving into him, and his own cock diving and pounding away with little force.
He grabbed at her hair, pulling her over onto her back. Knees up, head down into the blanket, her thighs closed together, glistening sex winking up at he moved to her, mounting her, lining up his sex.
One swift sweet move pushed him inside, taking her from behind. He gripped the wall with one hand, her hip with the other, once more using her for what she was.
SuthernCumfort
doin it suthern style
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- Oct 24, 2006
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Mary could not grasp the pleasure this simple act brought to her. She was experienceing this act as if it were the most pleasureable in the world. This man, this Jesus was treating her as if she were the only woman in life.
She regaled in his touch and felt the pressure as he entered her from behind. She did not want to loose this feeling as she rocked her hips in unison to his thrusts. Harder and softer, alternating to deepen the pleasure, she rose the waves of passion that seemed to seep from every pore in her body.
Crying out, her own peak seemed out of reach, they pushing closer and closer and then pulling back as if he were holding her back. She wanted to taste him, she wanted to see if he tasted as good as he did everything else. Gasping for words, she spoke. Her words punctuated by thrusts.
"I, want, to, taste, you. I want to have your seed on my tongue" was all she could manage hoping to spur him to that point.
She regaled in his touch and felt the pressure as he entered her from behind. She did not want to loose this feeling as she rocked her hips in unison to his thrusts. Harder and softer, alternating to deepen the pleasure, she rose the waves of passion that seemed to seep from every pore in her body.
Crying out, her own peak seemed out of reach, they pushing closer and closer and then pulling back as if he were holding her back. She wanted to taste him, she wanted to see if he tasted as good as he did everything else. Gasping for words, she spoke. Her words punctuated by thrusts.
"I, want, to, taste, you. I want to have your seed on my tongue" was all she could manage hoping to spur him to that point.
Rockingham
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Her body knew the touch of a man, it was no stranger. He could feel it. It was wonderful against him, a woman of experience riding him, knowing how to take it. As he thrust she made sure she met him at each turn, begging and urging him.
She knew what she wanted.
He had to pull out of her. Her entire body pressing against him, her sex afire, squeezing him to no end. He couldn't stay inside of her, if he did he would be caught deep inside, cumming right into her fertile womb.
She asked for it on her tongue, she wished to taste him.
His seed never touched the ground. He spun her around on her knees, his cock hard, hot, wet from her cunt. Her mouth opened, as he slid it in. Already she sucked on him, her tongue perfect against him gliding along his shaft, touching, licking, tasting.
She was perfect, defining every inch. She truly did want his taste, both of their tastes in her mouth. He came, he couldn't help himself, grabbing her hair, pushing inside of her mouth, filling her, exploding on her tongue.
HE cried out, calling her name. God, Mary... Mary to take his seed Mary to taste him for the first time. Inside of her mouth, watching her, watching the look on her face as he filled her to the brim.
"There you are," He said, tired spent, looking down on her with a simple smile, pushing the hot sweaty hair from her eyes, "You paid for me... all of me, including my seed. It is yours, sweet Mary. Treasure it..."
She knew what she wanted.
He had to pull out of her. Her entire body pressing against him, her sex afire, squeezing him to no end. He couldn't stay inside of her, if he did he would be caught deep inside, cumming right into her fertile womb.
She asked for it on her tongue, she wished to taste him.
His seed never touched the ground. He spun her around on her knees, his cock hard, hot, wet from her cunt. Her mouth opened, as he slid it in. Already she sucked on him, her tongue perfect against him gliding along his shaft, touching, licking, tasting.
She was perfect, defining every inch. She truly did want his taste, both of their tastes in her mouth. He came, he couldn't help himself, grabbing her hair, pushing inside of her mouth, filling her, exploding on her tongue.
HE cried out, calling her name. God, Mary... Mary to take his seed Mary to taste him for the first time. Inside of her mouth, watching her, watching the look on her face as he filled her to the brim.
"There you are," He said, tired spent, looking down on her with a simple smile, pushing the hot sweaty hair from her eyes, "You paid for me... all of me, including my seed. It is yours, sweet Mary. Treasure it..."
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