Fed Starving
Active Member
I went to this place with intriguing people. A hot guest list that was overflowing with fertility and fine brilliance. I was a free man finding a new world. My friends didn't come around anymore. They became somehow restricted and they shrank themselves, cut themselves off, shortened with their own actions. I found new friends, new allies, saw life in different perceptions than before. Life became a series of actions, not acts, and functions, not characters. Concise.
I found this girl while I was there. We both longed to devour a wholesome portion of decadence and unnessesary excess. Our society broadened our tastes and handed us discovery on a platter. Ease was the order. A chance to experience your provocations without inhibitors. Being a part of that became the driving source of personal powerment within our individual lives.
She wore a blood red gown so thin you could see her bare nude form that time I first saw her. She was English, a solid girl with a naughty streak and a fiery temper. Very sensual and greedy for attention. At the end of that first day I invited her into my house. She consented and the early hours of the next day were made of only her.
She hid a secret and lied habitually, that she wasn't like other women. She would say this and play little matches, she knew I wouldn't know. Such innocence was a fraud but who now is innocent anyways? When I closed in on the truth she withered away with counterfeit frailty and responded sharp with cartoonish dishonesty.
And she seized me up in a shock, overwhelmed with maudlin fixations and a dependency on her mock reliance, a fool in distraction and deep insatiable urge. Not to leave or see the light, tied around her like a belt on a lean syphon. Greater her compulsions became to fasten me towards the center of the house. I didn't know.
She was a usual softy when I first knew her. A different that was and that was months ago. Fun and full of laughter and submissiveness, intimate affections. Then one day that all turned cold and she was something new. Something fierce and primitive. Cruel in her marrow.
Locked up in our dark retreat and in a condition of turbulent depression, I swore that I would rebuild our previous glory and I wrote her a love letter as she was sleeping. Then as a surprise I leapt out of bed fully naked and threw open the long curtains, sunshine bursting through into our bed and she ignited in hard fire, burnt to death in agonizing misery, screaming in high shrills. She got on her feet, on the bed, still afire, hissing like medusa and died before my very eyes.
Here is that love letter.
I kept my love in bed and my heart in her slender hands. She was soft and demanding of my care. Her gentle smile brought the temptations of life while she danced through the meadows of my protection. And she washed me in the allure of her tender soul. Through time and our natural fusion, she seduces and takes a body captive, the nucleus of my nerves. She starves inside her wanting with a shudder and a whisper and a slap against her skin. The heat of her eyes with promise, absorb my passion and drink my heart clean.
I found this girl while I was there. We both longed to devour a wholesome portion of decadence and unnessesary excess. Our society broadened our tastes and handed us discovery on a platter. Ease was the order. A chance to experience your provocations without inhibitors. Being a part of that became the driving source of personal powerment within our individual lives.
She wore a blood red gown so thin you could see her bare nude form that time I first saw her. She was English, a solid girl with a naughty streak and a fiery temper. Very sensual and greedy for attention. At the end of that first day I invited her into my house. She consented and the early hours of the next day were made of only her.
She hid a secret and lied habitually, that she wasn't like other women. She would say this and play little matches, she knew I wouldn't know. Such innocence was a fraud but who now is innocent anyways? When I closed in on the truth she withered away with counterfeit frailty and responded sharp with cartoonish dishonesty.
And she seized me up in a shock, overwhelmed with maudlin fixations and a dependency on her mock reliance, a fool in distraction and deep insatiable urge. Not to leave or see the light, tied around her like a belt on a lean syphon. Greater her compulsions became to fasten me towards the center of the house. I didn't know.
She was a usual softy when I first knew her. A different that was and that was months ago. Fun and full of laughter and submissiveness, intimate affections. Then one day that all turned cold and she was something new. Something fierce and primitive. Cruel in her marrow.
Locked up in our dark retreat and in a condition of turbulent depression, I swore that I would rebuild our previous glory and I wrote her a love letter as she was sleeping. Then as a surprise I leapt out of bed fully naked and threw open the long curtains, sunshine bursting through into our bed and she ignited in hard fire, burnt to death in agonizing misery, screaming in high shrills. She got on her feet, on the bed, still afire, hissing like medusa and died before my very eyes.
Here is that love letter.
I kept my love in bed and my heart in her slender hands. She was soft and demanding of my care. Her gentle smile brought the temptations of life while she danced through the meadows of my protection. And she washed me in the allure of her tender soul. Through time and our natural fusion, she seduces and takes a body captive, the nucleus of my nerves. She starves inside her wanting with a shudder and a whisper and a slap against her skin. The heat of her eyes with promise, absorb my passion and drink my heart clean.
