"Let's come together for a tale."
He had felt that moment. He had savored, but there it was. A reality! Botha was already a year old. Reagan, few months ahead. The sun made a gullible groan as the sky wretched in pain, commemorating the tale his thorax was about to let slope. He was really glad. It feels good to be around those who love you and you love. That's the best definition of an Utopia.
He had then gotten to know more about the elevated ones. He had discovered, that their were shadows of the evil attributions he had once ascribed to them. When he had gotten to his motherland, and the door of the mini-house he was in was opened, he had ran to the cave but couldn't find his family. He had ran in raving rage to where he felt they would be. His fostered feelings didn't jilt him at arrival. They were chained,
"What exactly would you say about it?" She'd been nursing that idea since the break of the stanced argument. She would do everything to sew or well, cobble the broken. She needed to know his stance. You could scarcely make meaning of the position of such a guy! She kept abreast each rhythmic sway tossed by his voluptuous visage. At a point, he seemed to smile. Bewitching other, he was serious. Like a confetti of mystery merged by inky idiosyncrasies. Though she admired sundry things in him, yet there was more to be known about him. She should appreciate him. Matter-of-factly, he was her hewn husband! And what do you do to what is hewn? Her attention was smothered by the whispering waves of the sea to the wanky wind. She wished she could make meaning of the coded converse that ensues between natural elements. Sometimes, she wished she were the tumbling tide that nosy nymph toss abo
"So long a day." Twas their nuptial shindig. Her lips were weary. She had no idea how she'd wielded those four. She threw aside the black heels with needle tongue. Most times what fashion was called was not actually what it turned out to be. Inconvenience was the best thing to call seeking attention with one's attires. She wasn't actually seeking attention. Twas her, matter-of-factly,her wedding. Who wouldn't look her best on such a day? Memory be fleshened: she recalled when Lil, her step sister was betrothed until nuptials. She was more than looking awkward. Like awkwardly good. The foundation of her makeup was puking excess! She hadn't looked that way. She remembered telling the maid of honor to skip special rites of dress code, but her best friend wouldn't her. What best thing could you receive than having your best friend as your maid of honor on the greatest day of you
"Just the right to heave the last sigh" He flexed his limbs. Throbbing thorax was in gay. He felt surges rippling within him like worn waves of the sassy sea. He wasn't actually hungry, but who wouldn't make a pawn of whatever time leases to him? That mutter he'd fostered at the birth of the scene was owed to the gazelle strolling, unconscious of the doom about to be drawn on his peace. His pace wasn't to stir any of the three familia, but he kept abreast of every moment of movements the trio pruned. His jaw was rehearsing the usual. His peace was being smothered. He merged with some dwarf pastures, and forced his moist mass into such heights. Whenever you want to have a meal, you'd do every possible thing to have it served. Provided that you haven't been whipped mercilessly by hampered hunger. He was saw one of t
"What plea is there to make?" Those kinda gaze you foster when at the prime of annoyance. Like the track of your face become decked with varying emotive biles. The go-fuck-yourself kinda expression. Like how would I give a damn about what pricks my ire? Her tongue actually had been faster than her thoughts. She could had held them at the nick of escape, but had a rethink of letting them go. She wouldn't at the consequence scoff. She was ready to take responsibility for the semantic denotations the contention was draped in. She looked away from him and wanted to stand. He reached for her hands and pulled her back into the seat. She was mad! Like she was going to run mad! What sorta a guy was he? He wasn't going to repeat what he'd said, wouldn't head to the next point, but would only keep her sitting on go-and-say-sorry-to-the-literature-teacher. If he was truly what he'd professed himsel
"You may kiss your bride." It used to be a dream but had at that moment gained a stance into being a reality. He'd wished for such a day and it'd caught up with him and made confetti of the courage he used to wallow in. He was quite the disturbed one at that moment. He needed to push on what had been started. He flexed his lusty limbs and thrusted his visage, conscious of enforcing a chemistry between his whiskers and hers. She'd roared in pleasure as the intimacy scaled from level to level till the sage of the pack made a halt. What a moment! He wished they'd be a second season for that. The sage then truncated the pace between them and proclaimed in such husky voice glazed with a throbbing threat of the thunder. His jaw complementing the lured lightening: "As it stands now. I have been bestowed with utmost right to call you both couples in an h
"How about we consider anonymous writers? Who are they and how relevant are their works that got them noticed? Or suiting to say, brought them into the limelight." Probably he'd began to see a lady. He was quite the different man that day. His long tie time was short. Though, twas yet his brown shoes, but they were to-matched with his trouser. While the white shirt he was having on was consciously tucked into the rear of the black belt which complemented the color sway of the short tie. Probably twas Sea's pick on him that'd foster such alarming change. None of the student could tell. But ever since then, he'd made sea his favorite student and would page her to perform some activities he was supposed to. He looked across the class, smiled as though bewitched. None of the twins were present that day. But at that moment, Tella strod in. Few seconds later, the forceful sarcast-
IWarning : It's Erotic. Even hyper Erotic. "Uhmm" Her tongue clicked as his lips ventured into her consciousness, dancing over her lips rhythmically, skillfully, fiddling with the urge flowing in a surgical torrent through her vein. He fought his tongue free, looked into her eyes, discovered they were closed: lost in the morass of emotions. He resumed the survey, now, more delicately, tormenting her from the inside, making her, marring her, starving her, urging her to want more, demand for more which he offered generously. Her hands moved now to rest on his shoulder, holding his neck with both hands as he pulled her close, lifted her up, scooping her between his knees as he stables himself, with tongue fighting for pleasure, pulling the jive and ding-dong activated in her mental horizon
Ocean I"I've seen pimples on many ladies' faces, but yours compliments your beauty. " I didn't know until that moment, that I was engrossed in her. Yes! I'd declared my unwavering love for her, but, I didn't realise that I meant it until she was sitting close to me, on a chair with soft foam and seductive leather, commemorating Eliz's seductiveness. She was the best definition of beauty, I must confess. The trace of perfection lingered in her smile as she'd parted her lips to unveil the allurement of my emotions. I wasn't exxagerating by saying that. I'd told her that I meant and will mean whatever I say to her. I really truly totally love her. What am I saying? I'm damn in love with her. She's the reason my heart was created. It would have been of no use, if it's not loving Eliz. Oh, Christ on a horse, I'm crazy about her!