Norman 的个人资料CAUTION - Thoughts Cross...照片日志列表更多  |  工具 帮助 |
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ecclesiastes 2:24
lair
communion IV [unease]"Sleep brings no rest to me:
The shadows of the dead
My wakening eyes may never see
Surround my bed".
~Emily Bronte (The Horrors of Sleep)
A curious calm falls like a curtain, the air hushed by a single breath. Eleanna hasn't reached for a candle yet. Her body pressed against mine as she leans her weight backwards. Every breath she takes flows through me like a silk sash fluttering in the wind. I steady my breath to match her breathing with mine. My hand that's around her throat palpitates in sympathy with her pulse beneath as I stroke her neck. It catches on the black velvet collar and she reaches upwards to place her soft hand over mine. A sigh escapes her parted lips. Her face glows brightly from the wavering light of the dozens of candles, lit by the grief of penitents, kept burning by hope.
"Not yet", she whispers back, in response to my request, her voice quivering ever so slightly. Looking down from where I stand, her breasts rise and fall, gently undulating with each breath pushing against the laced edge of her dress. My fingers tremble under her hand - I wonder if she feels it. I want desperately to slide them down between the clefts of her mounds, to feel the cool dampness, to hear her gasp as I hook a nipple, fingers digging into the soft flesh. I take a deep ragged breath, letting it out slowly as I brush my lips along the uneven edge of her ear. My cock twitches inside my jeans like an animal caught in a net.
Slowly, Eleanna turns to face me, her body twisting between my hands. Her face is so close to mine that her breath puffs at a stray wisp of my hair. Her lips, slightly parted with desire, glisten, lures me like a siren. She has her eyes closed, her face turned upwards and I dissolve into her spell. Our lips meet. Softness like cherry blossoms wafting down to the cold ground. The prick of static electricity sending a jolt to the nape of my neck. Spasms down my spine. Primordial urges raising it's wizened head to quiver against my already hard cock.
Darting my tongue between the small space of her lips to probe the inside of her mouth, she tastes as heavenly as she smells, her tongue meeting mine with wild urgency. Her breath hisses from flared nostrils, breasts heaving against my chest.
Suddenly, there is a sound among the beams and the rafters high above us and fine bits of dust float down like snowflakes to settle among the pews.
"What's that?", she pulls away from me to glance up. "Did you hear that sound?" Unease creeps into her voice.
I draw her close to me, running my hands down her back, comforting her with gentle strokes. "It's OK. It's probably a mouse"
There is another sound. This time the unmistaken fluttering of wings. Something dark and sinister. Gnarled talons scrabble for grip carving deep chasms into ageing wood. "Perhaps it's an owl"
I feel her relax as she draws her head to my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head, her hair tickles the edges of my nose and hides my smirk.
"Now please m'lady, the candle"
Eleana turns to look behind her at the flickering tongues of flame. "Yes".
She reaches out... the list"I am going out. Would you like anything?"
"Yes please. Don't forget the list"
"I think that might be all. Hope I didn't forget anything"
wax"What...! Now?!". The look on her face is a picture of incredulity with a tracing of stubborness mixed in.
"Now would be a good time, I'm not doing anything else". Placing my hands behind my head, I sit back on the couch, the leather creaking beneath me.
She glares at me, petulance creeping into her green eyes. I smirk. She drops her gaze and begins to slip out of her shirt pulling it above her head, her breasts falling free, bouncing slightly as they're released from the confining material. She gathers them up in her hands to briefly fondle them, flicking her thumbs across the gradually stiffening nipples. She grunts, pouting, her eyes smouldering with a mixture of turbulent passion and disobedience.
"Now what?". Her voice drips with indignation.
"Pick up the candle"
"No!"
"It was not a request my Precious. Pick up the candle, please"
Turning with rebellious slowness, she gathers her hair, tying it back. Her eyes have not left my face. She picks up the candle stand, the flame flickering in protest, a small black tendril of soot writhing upwards.
"This is going to hurt". Her voice has taken on a plaintive whine, the corners of her mouth turned down in a child-like pout.
"We've been through this before. You'll be just fine"
She raises the red candle up before her, the flickering tongue throwing dancing shadows against her pale skin. She draws in a deep breath, bites down on her lower lip and tips it over. I take an equally deep breath and hold it. She squeezes her eyes shut. I stare with fixed intent at the bubble of molten wax growing mercilessly ever larger as it looms inexorably over the edge...
communion III [awakening]“An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself.”
~Charles Dickens
...Come with me". I reach out my hand to her and she takes it without hesitation, her gaze cast downward. Her palm is warm to the touch against my coarse fingers. A jolt ripples through me like a single drop of water onto a whispering pool as her fingers entwine with mine and my heartbeat quickens. She rises with a slow deliberate grace, the rustling of her dress seemingly the only sound inside this ancient church. There is a stirring deep within me, a dark desire awakening to feed and I take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through flared nostrils. Taking in the way she holds her head high, shoulders straight, her breasts pushed together and out almost flowing over the laced edge of the neckline, the way her deep cleavage nestles the ornate dirk, only to disappear into the dark regions of the bodice.
She runs a hand down the front of the dark green full length dress smoothing out the velvet with an almost imperceptible swish. It is a stunnigly captivating dress, regal in it's simplicity, accentuating every curve of her body. Cinched tight at the waist, by a belt of midnight black, it billows gently downwards to drape and flow around her feet that are encased in dainty black slippers. It seems as if she has just stepped out from a rent in the fabric of time, a spectre from an age long past, of kings and queens, of courtesans and jesters. Perhaps her emerald eyes have borne witness to opulent nights and languid days, gilded furniture and oversized ballrooms, darkened corridors where servants scurried and bustling kitchens in which butlers ravished kitchen scullions, taking them from behind, food stained skirts bunched around their waists.
"Where are we going?" Her voice is soft, lilting with a slight hint of an accent that I cannot quite place. It is a rhetorical question, posed simply to break the tension. Her hand is firm within mine. She has already placed her faith in me. There is no going back now.
I lead her by the hand and we walk towards the front of the church. Outside, the wind has picked up, howling through the tattered leafless branches of the trees, flinging snow against the small windows like fingers scrabbling desperately for a hold. High above us, amidst the rafters, bridged together by giant cobwebs almost as old as the structure itself, something large scrabbles and I feel the weight of dark phantasmal eyes follow us as we head up the aisle.
Stopping in front of the rack of pale white offertory candles, each glowing flame undulating like tongues whispering a wordless prayer, each shape contorted by the melting wax, I step silently behind her. Leaning close to her, gathering her long bountiful red mane in my left fist, I move it out of the way and place my lips against her cool neck. With teeth slightly bared, I extend my tongue to drag it across her cool flesh, to kiss her softly, nipping ever so gently as I close my mouth. I bring my right hand around to place it against her throat, my left hand now around her waist drawing her backwards to me.
"Pick up a candle. Any candle"
On the wall directly above us, a detailed effigy of Jesus Christ, nailed to His wooden cross, looks down on us with an expression of infinite sadness as His life flows out in eternal forgiveness from His wounds.
communion II [watching]
“As in all the churches of the holy ones, women should keep silent in the churches, for they are not allowed to speak, but should be subordinate, as even the law says”. 1 Corinthians 14:33
They crowded into the shadows, huddled together amongst the rafters, their whispers filling in the hollows, trickling down the walls. Through the stained glass windows, the moon throws it's moonbeams in monochrome splinters to splash against the pews.
I pick up the small silver dirk, still warm from her skin and the dark red stone in the intricately carved hilt glints once like a winking eye. Eleana's breathing has deepened, each breath drawn through flared nostrils, slightly parted lips.
"Interesting choice for jewelry". A rhetorical statement, not expecting a response.
"Interesting choice for a meeting". Her voice, a slight quiver in her voice [fear? anticipation?] is strong and low. "I assume we are not here to pray?". The vibrations from her throat as she speaks course through my hand stirring something sinister deep within me and I laugh, momentarily breaking the tension. I sit back stretching my arms across the back of the wooden bench and exhale slowly trying to control my heart rate. A smirk curls one side of my mouth.
"Actually worship has already started m'lady. It began as soon as you entered"
Slowly, with almost agonizing deliberateness, Eleana turns towards me. Her face is obscured by the dark veil of her hair, but I can see her eyes glitter in the flickering light and this time an arrogance has seeped into her voice. "Then pray tell, who is the prey and who is the predator?"
Above us, there is a flutter of sound, something crawls in the gloom and hoarse whispered voices are hushed as the watchers gather up a collective breath. Eleana glances upwards, almost as if she heard something, although I know she could not have. Her inner sense not completely opened yet, concealed by an obsidian layer of innocence, untarnished by her purity. And yet, as I gazed into her dark green eyes, locked steadily onto my face, I know that deep inside her, there are darkened corridors, a gallery of passageways with bolted doors, behind which lay even darker dreams. If only I could find the key. Perhaps tonight I could wonder through some of those tunnels, explore the caverneous realms of her mind. Would she hand me the key or would I have to seek it out?
I choose not to answer her, instead rising up fom the pew to step around and stand in the aisle next to her. Extending my hand, I take hers, warm and clammy, yet steady and soft as newborn skin. I cannot help but notice the dark red polish adorning her fingernails, fingers bare of any rings. "Come with me", I beckon to her softly, and she rises to obey.
Outside, the wind has picked up and the icy tendrils of sleet hurl themselves onto the wooden sidings, rattling the windows, howling through the cracks and crannies to swirl around the ceiling. The night was getting colder, the moon ducking behind fleeing clouds. The candles brushed by the icy wind, waver in an undulating dance spurring the phantasms into an enchanting rhythm as they sway and whirl, groping together in an unhallowed orgy of breasts, hands, cocks, cunts and tongues... communion I [meeting]“All that we see or seem, Is but a dream within a dream.”
- Edgar Allan Poe The Huge carved wooden door closes with a soft thud behind me, severing the icy tendrils of mist that swirled around my feet as I stepped inside. The frigid gust of wind that snuck inside with me, rushes down the aisles to caress the flickering tongues of the candles throwing the shadows on the wall into a phantasmal dance. I pause for a moment to let my eyes adjust to the low light before I start to make my way forward. My footsteps echo sharply within the great walls like the crack of a whip and I wonder if she is here, as promised. Drawing closer to the front, I make out a seated figure wrappd in a cloak, embraced by her long dark hair falling like a shawl upon her shoulders. Even though she knows that I have come, she does not move, instead staring straight ahead, back arched and rigid, her head slightly bowed. I slip into the pew behind her, kneeling on the bench and lean towards her.
"Good evening m'lady. I am glad you are here"
Eleana stiffens almost imperceptibly as her head bows even further, a stray wisp of her red hair folding gently across her right cheek. "I did not have a choice", she whispers, her voice low and breathless like the swaying flames of the candles that provide the only light inside this church.
My lips curl upwards in a sinister smile as I lean closer and with my left hand pick up her hair moving it away from her neck, exposing the black velvet band around her pale white throat. She draws in a sharp breath from between clenched teeth as my lips make contact with her hot flesh, just below her ear lobe. I growl, low and feral against the side of her neck bringing my right hand to gently wrap it around her throat. I can feel her pulse flutter beneath my palm like the thrumm of a small bird caught in a net and she whimpers softly raising her head, extending her neck, submitting to my actions. Her breasts rise and fall with every deep breath as a warm flush spreads across them and yet her hands remain clasped on her lap, her back still straight, a poise of demure docility.
On the walls a hundred spectral apparitions slowly end their tortuous dance to hover in anticipation, gazing down at the unfolding scene below them, soft whispers rising upwards to the caverneous ceiling. Still kneeling behind her, as if at worship, my thumb and forefinger graze along the edge of the collar, my palm catching momentarily at the small metallic dirk dangling against her jagular notch... canvasI stretch and yawn, groaning slightly as I turn to my left. She is still asleep, her body gently rising and falling with every breath, a halo of red flared across the pillow obscuring her face. The dark bed sheets are bunched around her waist, exposing her smooth perfect back. Sitting up on one arm to gaze down at her form, I feel a flush of emotion wash over me. With measured movements, I reach out with one finger to gently trace the welts criss-crossing the soft flesh, painting the alabaster canvas of her skin in a violence of red. I cannot prevent a slow smile from curling my lips as the events of last night fold upwards in my mind, like a curtain rising in front of a stage. My cock, still moist, traced with the residue of her essence, twitches slightly and I lick my lips. She stirs and mewls softly, whispering words that are barely audible, but the endearments are palpable in the morning light.
I lean towards her, brush the strands away from her face to expose a cheek, serene and soft. My lips touch her cool flesh in a delicate kiss and she smiles, eyes still closed.
"Good Morning My Precious, I will make coffee" candy floss lip gloss"What is that I taste upon your lips?"
...flick"Flickering lick fluttering flick my tongue danced o'er her quavering clit"
~Jaded Vixen~
I am stretched out on the bed, hands behind my head looking down the length of my body as she works her mouth on my hard cock. Blood red lips, moistened with spittle and inflammed by yearning slide up and down my shaft, her pink tongue extend to flick cat-like along the tip, wrapping around the head before sliding it into her mouth. Her eyes have not left my face a subtle smile turning up the corners of her mouth as she tastes me. Rising now, her breasts bouncing seductively, nipples engorged and pointed, she hikes up her short tight black skirt and straddles me. There is a wanton look of wickedness in her eyes and her smile has taken on a leering grin. My cock still firm within her grasp, she holds it still, while her body hovers above it. She looks directly into my eyes from her perch across my abdomen and slowly rubs the tip of my member against her slick wet clit first. She licks her lips, dragging the moment out - back and forth across the pink petals of her vulva she strokes, before pressing down on to my crotch to slide my member into her waiting cunt.
A groan escapes my lips as she first pushes down, palms flat on my heaving chest, my head thrown back in rapture, she reaches over to now pin my arms down above my head. Her nipples burn a tantalizing trail across my chest as her breasts sway with the movement of her body. Her long flowing hair falling across her face to fan against mine, she grinds her hips, fucking me slowly and hard. Just as I am getting into her rhythm, my hips moving to meet hers with every stroke, she stops, looks me straight in the eyes and rises up from me, my cock slipping out with a soft squelch. Her hands still pinning my arms down she wiggles her self across my chest until she is kneeling over my face. The pink wet lips of her pussy, now mere inches away from my lips, she uses one hand to stroke herself, slithering her fingers inside her with a soft sucking sound. The smell of her cunt has filled my head making my ears roar with unbridled desire. I look up at her eyes, hooded slits, smoldering with unrestrained impetuousness as with one hand still playing with herself, the other hand twirling a nipple she smiles down at me with a toss of her pretty head. "What do you want", taunting, tongue flickimg out to lick her lips. "I want to lick you" A shake of her head, long tresses whipping about her face as she looks down, fingers still sliding in and out, a drop of nectar upon my chin. "Do you deserve it?" A growl escapes my lips as I attempt to bring my hand around to strike her ass, perhaps pinch a nipple for her vexatious attitude but she shakes her head once more, a devilish film darkening her eyes. Spreading the soft moist lips with two fingers now, she lowers herself onto my outsretched quivering tongue...
Red Rain - tresShifting twisting the fog around us was coiling boiling....
Enveloping enclosing in it's tendrils tight..... Pushed to the ground the shadow's arms around me did surround.... Caressed my skin hot like balm in it's cool embrace I luxuriated randy and calm.... ~Desolation Angel
The rain has dissipated slightly but the drops continue to fall soaking our already saturated skin and clothes. Steam from the ground rise like ethereal figures coiling and twisting to wrap around her form in the gloom. I can barely see her in the darkness but I am very aware of her. Lying back on the soggy earth, grass and rock prodding into my back, she is straddled atop of me, naked from the waist up, long flowing hair now matted and stringy from the rain, falling across her face and shoulders. Her sodden skirt bunched up across her waist, thighs on either side of my hips, the warmth of her pussy enveloping my cock like a sheath, she rocks her hips driving our loins together.
She has one hand wrapped lightly across my throat, the other rests on my chest. Both of my hands grasp her buttocks as she fucks me with almost animalistic abandon, breasts bouncing up and down with the effort. Now with my fingers digging deep into her soft flesh, I hold her steady as I pump my hips, driving my engorged member like a piston in and out of her tight wet cunt. I can feel her stiffen underneath my hands as her orgasm slowly starts to build and she leans back away from me, hands resting on my thighs, grinding her hips into me.
Without warning, I bring my right hand down to strike her bare flesh, the sound echoing off into the darkness. A moan escapes from her lips as the sting of the slap, accentuated by the wetness, sends a ripple of pain across her, tingling my palms. I slap her again and she squeals this time, her body bucking in reaction.
"Are you going to cum for me?"
"Are you ready to cum for me, my little whore?" as I bring my hand down hard once more across her ass.
As if in response, her body goes rigid for a brief second and then her orgasm explodes across her form, the lips of her pussy clamping down on my cock, thighs gripping my hips as a gutteral moan escapes her lips. She slumps forward to lay prone on top of me, soft breasts pushing into my chest, hard nipples poking into my skin, face buried into my neck. Her body continues to spasm and jerk on top of me as I stroke her back, one hand slipping into the fold between her buttocks as I use one finger to stroke the soft puckered petal-like flesh of her hole, while the other fingers seek my cock to feel it glide in and out of her dripping snatch.
She raises her head finally from my neck to stare at me with slightly hooded eyes - I know what's coming next and I take a deep breath. With an almost serpentine look crossing her features, she drops her face to grasp my bottom lip between her teeth, and bites down hard on the soft flesh. Sending a searing flash across my head - her breath hot and rushed against my face, she sucks passionately on my bruised lip. One hand across my throat - a gentle pressure of possession, of quiet persuasion, she whispers from between clenched teeth:
"It's your turn now"
Red Rain - duaeWe are drenched within seconds of stepping outside into the torrential rain and she drops my hand to run into the middle of the lawn. Steam rising from the scorched earth, form wraith-like apparitions twisting and turning in the night, bringing life back into the water starved greenery. She spins around, her face completely enshrouded by her long hair that has also cascaded down past her shoulders, arms outstretched - a supplicant preparing for the sacrment of life. Her clothes are completely soaked by now and hug the curves of her body, wrapped like a second skin around her. Milky pale skin showing through the light material.
I walk up to her, squinting against the falling drops, laughing at her frivolous enthusiasm and catch her mid-spin. She laughs, child-like, infectious - a playful spirit dancing in her eyes and slumps against me. Her breasts push firmly against my chest as she wraps her arms around my neck. Our lips touch, she opens hers ever so slightly - an invitation, and I flick my tongue into her mouth. Electric sparks erupt as our tongues seek each other with urgency, the only sound now is the drone of the rain and our breathing. My hands explore her back, as my tongue seeks the inside of her mouth, sliding my hands down to cup her buttocks through the wet material, fingers sliding into the crevice, bunching her skirt with them. Our lips still grind together with the urgency of our kiss and I feel her fingers lock into my hair, pulling my face harder towards hers.
Finally we break apart, gasping for breath. My hands have worked their way to her breasts and I squeeze them roughly, fingers seeking helplessly for her nipples beneath the slippery blouse. She pushes away from me and drops to her knees, eager hands fumbling with my belt, the buttons, finally pulling down the waistband to reach in and draw out my semi-hard member. She looks up at me, eyes demure and filled with passion, rain streaming down her face - a spectre of submission and longing. She extends her tongue, so pink in the inky night, places my cock on it as if to accept the Host, closes her lips around the head and slides it into her warm mouth... Red Rain - unaShe sways to the music, an enchantress drawn to the rhythm syncopated by the incessant beat of the rain as it tattoos against the windows and the roof. A hot sweltering day has turned into a humid sultry evening, the falling rain making the air clammy with moisture. Beads of sweat have slicked my forehead and more droplets are slowly trickling down my neck and back as I watch her, body undulating in time to the steady beat emanating from the speakers.
Eyes closed, wisps of hair partially obscuring her face, she twirls across the living room, dream-like, on a black cloud of lace. Bursts of white from her smooth legs flash a contrast of colour as the soft cloth billows out from beneath her, causing my breath to quicken.
As the music continues to pound, she glides across the floor like a wraith towards me, hips gyrating seductively, eyes dancing to the driving beat. In almost slow motion she's between my outstretched thighs, bending down towards me, her face so close to mine that I can feel the heat rising from her, breathing ragged. I reach for her, but she straightens out quickly and drags her nails, coated blood red, down the insides of my thighs as she moves away. My cock jumps in response and I suck in a breath from the flash of pain that spears across to my crotch. Quick as a sprite, she whirls away from my grasp, a smile forming on her lips, a quick dart of her tongue.
"No touching", a whispered admonishment to my apparent transgression.
Her full breasts, veiled behind the lightly patterened flimsy blouse swell and subside seductively as her breathing quickens, erect nipples just barely visible behind the black material. She continues to dance, eyes locked with mine, a dazzling display of hair, lace and hands. Feet and calves, sculpted by the spiked sandals, tap across the floor and she moves once again towards me. I sit up from my lounging position on the easy-chair, grasping the armrests in anticipation. Sweat is now running in rivulets down the sides of my chest to pool in the waistband of my jeans. My head is dizzy with yearning, breathing shallow and quick, her movements causing my member to slowly stiffen and strain against the denim.
She bends down again towards me and glides her tongue across my neck to lick at the sweat on my clammy skin before reaching for me. I offer up my hand, rising up from the chair to face her. Wordlessly, she turns to walk away, and I silently follow her, hand in hand towards the front door. The rain has not let up, the constant thrumming now blanketed by the loud drum of my heart - hard against the inside of my ears and chest, as we step outside into the steaming deluge...
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