staggers in from the Basement, brushing the biancadust from my heels
YoU and me both, darlinG.
But here. Let one help yoU with that dust.
...dropping to knees before yoU, to tend to those boots...
seizing your wrist again, taking it, twisting it, pressing your arm down
...gasping at the sudden flash of pain at the vulnerable place...
Well, the boots can probably wait.
No, mon ange, you can attend to the boots as well. fond smile
...on my knees, face pressing against youR sweet hard thighs as my
mouth makes its way down, down, to youR sadly biancadusted boots,
pink tongue extending to lap away all traces of anything so mundane,
leaving only glistening boyjuice shining on them...
...traces of dust now at my hungry pink cupid's bow, i raise my
bright baby blues to yoU, still kneeling at youR feet...
...and, as i lick the last traces off youR beautiful black boots,
my hands stray up youR hard muscled calves, youR lean strong thighs,
trembling, wanting to go higher, higher...
...my tongue strays, up from youR left boot, over the leather top,
onto the black silk of youR tight trousers, where would be youR
inner thigh, were the sweet flesh not constrained by cruel cloth...
...burying my face in the hot folds of silk at youR groin, please, lovE, please, anything, just tell me...
*(^*&^%$&^%#^%$%*&)(_*_)9-=090-=!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!skids back in after about a thousand 'Link Dead' messages
Oh, babY, is there any way i can kiss it and make it better?
...face reburies back where it would, given me on my knees before yoU...
There is, mon ange, but you'll need to find it for yourself. stroking the back of your head lightly
Oh, sweeT lovE, take me back home if this isn't working. i want yoU so hard, so bad, so now.
Oh, darlinG lovE, one could find this in the dark with both hands tied behind one's back. ...and, with both hands held back there by no restraint other than force of will, orlando's clever lips begin on the fastenings of youR trousers, making short work of that which stands
between his mouth and its objecT...
Its alright, the problem seems to be Oz, not soi. extending a booted foot onto the chain between your nipple rings and imprisonning your face to my boots
...nipples screaming at the outrage, my face slams into the floor by youR boots, so dazed i can scarcely savor the scent that usually sends me so...
moving my foor to rest lightly on the back of your neck I think I still see some dust there, my love.
...the light press of youR boot at my neck bodes ill, and my
tongue darts at youR slickly licked boots, not a spot of biancadust
left on any part of them, but oh, i will lick and lick and lick again, for yoU, my sweeT lorD...
raising an eyebrow... taking out the dressage whip and holding the stinger to your lips... Are you quite sure?
Lift the boot, sweeT my lorD, my lovE, and i will gladly lick the sole.
...but my lips grab by instinct for the stinger of youR whip...
lifting the boot, a sudden swift flick and the whip cracks diagonally across your mouth I know, my only love.
...my face flinches, hardly visibly, at the sharp hard crack against it, and my lashes lower, and i bend down, and my tongue flicks across the sole, first of this boot, then the other, squeaky clean, the both of them, by the time i'm done, and a bright red mark is beginning to blossom near my lips...
lifting you slowly, calm smile ghosting my lips, raising your bloodied lips to mine
tongue driving brutally past the swelling bright bruise to possess what is already mine
...my bloodied lips meet youRs with such perfect love, o my lovE, the sweet stinging pain nothing to the caress of youR mouth...
straightening you up with the whip, admiring you for my pleasure En pointe, my only love.
...straightening, abruptly!, ripping off the boots in which no one could conceivably hit pointe, and raising myself up on flesh and bone alone, hard and firm and all my muscles are youRs...
...pumped biceps slowly drawn above my head, whole body stretched out before yoU, why not?, it's youRs, the perfect carrera statue save for the reD traces at my lips...
big hands gliding over your hard smooth body at chest, at leg, at arse, taking out my knife
slowly cutting away your remaining clothes, making you naked, still, perfect, playing idly with your nipple chain, and then walking slowly round you admiring the tensed muscle the strain at back and leg
...holding, oh so still, no matter how hard i want to melt at the touch of those hands, those hot strong wonderful hands, and i see what you take out, and i stay still anyway...
you told me once you can stay en pointe for a long time. Is this whip slashing the back of your legs true, mon ange?
...standing naked, pale pure white, en pointe on bare mortal flesh, and the flesh feels it, the strain ripples through the tight muscles at calf and thigh...
...tight flesh *shrieking* at the cut of youR lash, but i don't, oh, no, and i answer yoU...
In shoes, darlinG lovE, for ages, and without, for longer than anybody i've ever met without.
...but yoU see the muscles tremble and not quite falter...
stiff whip caressing your innre thighs, forcing them a little apart, then a little farther, kissing your bloodied lips while I do this you would like to relax, yes?
i would like to please yoU, my darlinG maN, and my body is youRs for the purpose.
...legs screaming with the tension of the unnatural position, as yoU spread them, feet still en pointe...
the stiff hard whip exploring the tight flesh between your legs
whip lashing upwards without warning A long time you said, my love?
...*not* screaming at the harsh sharp lashing, not not not...
An eternity, moN angE, or at least it would seem so.
big hand caressing your jawline, searching, finding, stabbing into a pressure point
...and no matter how that point may bite into me, i treasure youR hand on my face, at my throat, on my body, controlling me, all of me...
Release. I am thirsty.
...oh blessed release, where these tight hard muscles let go unnatural posture and subside into something where i can breathe, and i reach for the cointreau and warm it in the only goblet i have for yoU, offering yoU glistening lips and all my heart...
crooking a single finger to tell you to bring mE the drink
The hardest, brightest pain is what I cause you to inflict on yourself, is it not, my omly love?
...it is already before yoU, o my darlinG, and it waits so happily...
...whether it is from youR hand or youR volition, it is a sweet treasure, my darlinG, and i value it as such...
leaning down to drain the liquor from your mouth... handing you the knife All that white cheekbone needs a little red, my love.
...i look up at yoU, panicked, youR knife in my hand, youR eyes burning into me, and my own eyes meet youR gaze, and i raise youR knife against my own skin...
waiting
...and one quick sharp flick is all it takes for a clean reD slice to line my high right cheekbone, and the hot drops therefrom to slide down it...
Bleed for mE, baby boy.
...not dropping youR knife, but with the other hand my fingers collect some of the reD liquid, and they raise, tentatively, toward yoU, wetly offering...
Never doubt that i bleed for yoU, sweeT maN.
Perhaps with a little more of the cointreau?
...the liqueur stinging the torn place at my lips, i take another mouthful for yoU, to offer, alongside the freshly-wetted fingertips...
taking your lips in mine, taking the cointreau, taking the blood, pressing you to your knees in fron of me, your face between my legs
...dizzied by the touch, the taste, of youR sweet lips on mine, i fall gladly to my knees before yoU, ah! the hot welcome smell from youR legs!...
caressing your arse, exploring, fingers entering you slowly, splaying out inside you, rotating slowly
...body thrilling to the touch of youR fingers up my cunt, no matter how hard yoU spread me, how yoU open me for youRself, and yoU see my arsecheeks twitch with pleasure about youR hand, the pleasure rippling up my back, down my legs, all through me...
you are thirsty, yes?
...my breath draws in quickly...
Ah, lovE, i thirst for yoU always.
Then drink
...and yoU see my tongue dart out at the welling blood at my lips from where yoU struck earlier, i will gladly drink anything that comes from you, sweeT lorD, as well yoU know...
burying your bloodied face in warm black silk
...i move toward youR sweet cock, freed from the prison of those silken trappings, and so sweetly bring my lips to it...
And when you have drunk my love, my only love, it will be time for you to meet the rattan.
...as my lips close round youR already rock-hard cock, my hands travel up and down youR lean thighs, not resisting any touch i can get of youR treasured flesh, pressing my torso against yoU wheresoe'er i can as i suck at yoU...
...greedily, my mouth tries to tickle and tease at youR ridge, but i can't resist, i can't, and my hands snake up behind youR gorgeous arse and slam yoU deep down my throat, guzzling the whole thick length of yoU like a fist...
...youR cock chokes me, i love it so, i love yoU so, and my hands pound yoU deep down my face, hot and hard and now...
reaching for a metre and a half of oiled, split bamboo Do you know the rattan, my love? hips working back and forth into your mouth
...youR cock filling my mouth, youR hips slamming into me, all i can do is grunt that no, i do knot know it...
You will. It bites very deep and curves itself round flesh in a way that nothing else will. Done properly a stroke to the back will extend round to the belly. fond smile
Do you look forward to it? playing with your hair
...youR cock filling my whorish mouth, i can only think of the pleasure at hand, rather than that to come, and i slurp and suckle hungrily at yoU, tongue dancing round youR stiff shaft, youR purpled ridge...
...and youR hand in my hair sends me to heaven and back, lovE, my head rubbing into youR hand as an eager pet its masteR...
you taste cinnamon and galangal as my hips start working faster
...oh, work 'em, babY, work those hips, shoot down my throat, shoot across my face, fuck me any way yoU want and i will *love* it...
Time we were in our own room, my love.*A/all
Farewell, mY F/friends, for now.
This hungry heart will follow yoU anywhere, lovE.A/all, Addio.
