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Friday, August 31, 2007

In Transit

She struck the pose and bent at her waist, her arms still hugging her breasts, without a bra as well she thought absentmindedly, an ample cleavage came to view. She quirked a brow at him, riverlets of rain ran down her cheeks, hair fully matted against alabaster skin.

“Oh? My mother told me not to talk to strangers.” She jeered him almost as she watched a dark form bend over, the wafting of heat, expensive cigars and classical music wafted out to her, nearly knocking her over.

“I see.” Came the curt, almost too polite male reply.

She shivered, sending a spray of water over the dark tan leather interior, and then she sneezed, whimpered softly to herself. “..ahh fuck it.” And her pale hand snatched out at the door latch and she sunk into the low dark machine which seemed to vibrate and purr beneath her ass. In which her panties had tightly crawled up the crack of her ass, her bare cheeks sat on the cool leather. She sniffled plainly as the door closed and locked-she let the aroma of the small cabin envelope her twist around her body and seemed to take her away, she had not even given the driver a second glance yet.

“Hungry?” The voice again, though this time more soothing almost spell binding twisting a calmness over her body.

She sighed softly, her lips painted a dull red moved slowly as if almost drugged. “ MMmmm. Actually yes. Do you do Italian or Chinese?” Her voice sounded lighted and far away.

He smirked. “I will do either if the occasion arises.”

She nodded in muted agreement, her eyes stole a glance to the driver. At this point oddly she felt that she would allow him to do anything he wished-that music seemed to take her away to a softer almost gentle place. Her ears barely heard him ask her, her name.

“What is your name?” That odd accent that could be almost from any place tickled her ears.

“Mine? Lea.” Her answers short and sweet not like her, she usually was a chatterbox. She slide both her hands now between her parted thighs, slick with rain still she pressed them up against her wet crotch. Her head leaned back into softness of the sports car’s seat, cradling her almost. She let him drive, take her to where ever he chose.

“Italian it is Lea.” His voice like a satyr in her ears, lulling her to sweet obedient silence, his smirk only deepened as he drove, shifting gears like a well honed machine. He drove his car at outrageous speeds up and down the streets-keen on every reaction. Till he found what he was looking for.

1 comment:

D'jierke (The One) said...

a withered head is raised, the beast growls. Rumbles from a deep hunger that has long gone unfulfilled. Until now. Until she walked in and staked her claim. The beast flicks a tongue to whet the cracked lips. It can taste her once again.
You are mine Lea. Your heart, your soul and your twisted mind.

That's Life

That's Life

The Master Of Her Domain

The Master Of Her Domain
There is One for everyone. The Master of my Domain is the axis in which my world spins. There shall only be but One. Among men and women, those in love do not always announce themselves with declarations and vows. But they are the ones who weep when you're gone. Who miss you every single night, especially when the sky is so deep and beautiful, and the ground so very cold......