And the latest bedtime insomnia driven raving for you... In the blue lights he could see men and girls come and go like dim flames against a wall. He would abrupt. He would speak the dark secret, seek it out and hold to it as Cato threw himself upon the sword. He would cross the decorous astonished threshold, half wild and reposed to drag the words out of her embattled flesh. Through that second of heat-laden time he imagined how he would confound her with truth solid and permanent. The voice went on, pieces of gold. Just a few meters nigh...There was a musical quality about that voice. It did not cease, it vanished and flourished again like wisteria in summer. He was the man she had fallen in love with. She was musing with the sort of man he knew she wanted to make love to. The gold voice calling forth trouble and a Phoenix running after arson would have done no better. He was a barracks filled with ire, cold implacable and outraged. The southern gentleman cut through the damp still air. Her voice, shingles sweet and over sweet. The silent excited rhythm beating ceaselessly between their mouths. He heard the savage quiet tremolo. Half tamed and vibrant, eyes closed, flow of pleasure through her intonation rose and fell, now palpable. Out of the soundless breaking world he walked towards his wife and knew he loved the indomitable jingle. Compelled forwards, he listened as the last rays of sunshine lingered on her full breathless lips. If Im out of my mind, its all right with me she whispered as she felt his strength against her thigh. She was with the sort of man she always wanted to make love to and was musing with a man she knew she could love.
Posted on: Wed, 23 Oct 2013 05:03:52 +0000
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