| "what if" what if he hides because of me, to test or taunt me. what if he hides because he has lost the will to care. or has befallen upon the will to love, and my inhabition to do so has shaken him. what if it is none of the above. and i am merely to caught up in him to see, that the thing he fears is inside of me. perhaps he fears my mind, or my kiss. what if he can't stand who i am, or what i am. and that, is what runs him from my hands. what if all of this is true. and the truth be told, he can never love you. like a marionette i fumble. through the crowds with tears i stumble. into his arms i hope to rest, then i realize he's gone with zest. |
| for no reason at all, she kept her hands in her elongated, pink pockets. out of desire for him. her swept up hair begged for his touch , yet it had never recieved it. her eyes fell upon him within moments that he entered the room. and she was unable to move unless it were near. he stood ever so close. she could feel his body heat rising off as he stood there silently. her hands grasped hard at the yards of material hidding her tiny frame. her desire for him was uncontrolable and her mind was taking over. leading her down hot, passionate paths of intimate embrace. her slender form within his strong arms as his mouth claspt down about her tiny neck. helplessly wanting him she attempted to breath. wanting of his lips upon her, naked, flesh. his hands to cross her delicate form. his mouth to cup her breasts. more and more her desire for him filled within her. awaiting a moment to pounce. afraid that if there eyes met she would kiss him lustfully. her usual fear of eyes was people seeing into her soul, but not with him. afraid that he would take her heart instead and keep it in a crystal box. never returning it. she feared that if she touched him she would play the role of a Vampire. taking from him that which is his ability to compose himself. wanting to feel his hard shaft rub up against her soft thighs. and more so wanting to thrust upon him. ever so wanting it. needing it. envisioning him dripping onto her stomach as she crawled up and down his body. wanting nothing more than to throb all around him. to make him quiver, shutter, and scream. to show him finally that she was his long before he ever knew it. that she would've melted had he of offered her to be earlier. with every thrust atop of him, her body dances. and she is lost within the feelings that overwhelm her. he scoops her up, so easily, to carry her off. and she is SO happy to be taken. by he alone. wanting to always be taken, to always be touched. giving herself happily, anytime, anywhere, anyplace. his touch makes her tremble and soothes her at the same time. his touch, his kiss, his mind, mean more to her than her own. when you think of magick, think of how fortunate you might you might be, to get to see it in motion. between these two figures. as they dance, together, between sheets of passion they dance as one. dance with me. until i scream for more. |
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| taunting |