10-16-2017, 09:15 AM
isobell
She must work harder to keep up, match his speed, to show that despite the tension that was so thick it threatened to suffocate her, she must push on. They are a pair, a blur of white and black, shapeshifting and mutating into one cell.
Reverse the process, make them whole.
Her chest is sore, the breaths are a moan with jagged little edges but she refuses to slow. Her throat would be raw in the morning by the judge of the raspy exhales from between her pretty dark lips. Occasionally she lifts the sooty lashes to eye her companion, her competition. The greenery flies past and even when he threatens to leave her behind with his larger leg span, she still pushes on with a silly belly full of laughter trailing behind just like the white and black of her tail.
The woman nearly rams against Ivar's hind end, balking into a dirt flinging crow hop, as they enter Loess. It was beautiful in the ways that Nerine was. There was much more greenery here and the birdsong replaced the shriek of gulls. She can smell the fresh rain and it makes her giddy. 'Are here finally?" Her breath is hot as she closes the space between her lips and the fine trace of his scaled next, looking up with excited eyes and a coy girlish smirk.
The white of her pelt is wet and muddy but she doesn't care as curiosity burns bright within her silver eyes. The woman reaches to press her nose to his shoulder in a silent gesture of thankfulness despite the tender places where his kiss still lingered on her hip, the tingle where he dared to steal a taste her womanhood...
Isobell forces that all away as Loess distracted her thoughts from the touch of is mouth, the threat of his teeth. She moves to create the space between them, a drinking pool not far off, to seek a bit of water to cool her burning throat. Isobell does not wait for him nor does she look back. She knows he will follow.
Reverse the process, make them whole.
Her chest is sore, the breaths are a moan with jagged little edges but she refuses to slow. Her throat would be raw in the morning by the judge of the raspy exhales from between her pretty dark lips. Occasionally she lifts the sooty lashes to eye her companion, her competition. The greenery flies past and even when he threatens to leave her behind with his larger leg span, she still pushes on with a silly belly full of laughter trailing behind just like the white and black of her tail.
The woman nearly rams against Ivar's hind end, balking into a dirt flinging crow hop, as they enter Loess. It was beautiful in the ways that Nerine was. There was much more greenery here and the birdsong replaced the shriek of gulls. She can smell the fresh rain and it makes her giddy. 'Are here finally?" Her breath is hot as she closes the space between her lips and the fine trace of his scaled next, looking up with excited eyes and a coy girlish smirk.
The white of her pelt is wet and muddy but she doesn't care as curiosity burns bright within her silver eyes. The woman reaches to press her nose to his shoulder in a silent gesture of thankfulness despite the tender places where his kiss still lingered on her hip, the tingle where he dared to steal a taste her womanhood...
Isobell forces that all away as Loess distracted her thoughts from the touch of is mouth, the threat of his teeth. She moves to create the space between them, a drinking pool not far off, to seek a bit of water to cool her burning throat. Isobell does not wait for him nor does she look back. She knows he will follow.
i'll wait for you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea