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UnicornLightining
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Metro: Portland Birthday: 2/1/1985 Gender: Female
Interests: The Eldarly, BOOKS, fanticy, Dragon Lance, D&D, Amtgard, sewing, coffe places, yoga, Reiki, Kali, Poetry, A Song of Fire and Ice Expertise: Soon to be Student at Clakumus Community College! Occupation: Student Industry: Medical
Message: message meEmail: email me Website: visit my website Yahoo: unicornlightining
Member Since:
3/8/2005
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| Her quiet smile and dazzlingly shy voice fair bewitched me. Angry hazel eyes and a sharp tongue reduced me to fragments of sylibols. Like some Sophia blessed creature from above this Anastaia Anderson has interuped my life. I do not have time to be some besotted boy, there are things to do, millions and millions of things for me to accomplish. I have no time to day dreaming about the color of her hair. I am not my cousin, nor am I Jacob, to throw caution to the wind and persue the passions of my heart over my duty or honor. And yet even now I am falling to their act. There is little that I can do in way of combatting this, and I fear that I will have to surrender to dreams of stroking her blond hair.
I have been up three times tonight, not able to sleep a wink for thinking of my foolish actions. This is not the first time I have wished to be like the other Shakwyck men. Edward and Jacob would simply court her with grace or brash sinsarity. I on the other hand offer her stuttered compliments. I had always counted on my father arranging for me to marry, never gave any thought as to what kind of woman I would find myself bound to. Now I feel the fool, thinking of her, wondering if she thinks of me at all. I doubt I am going to sleep at all.
This is an entry by my character Darren from MT. I have not set up a Live Journal for him yet so I am sticking this here for now. | | |
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Death never gets easy She is merciless But she herself is never cruel Death is always with us Keeping as company Watching over us She is always patient Death loves surprises There are those for whom Death is longed after She is a friend, whose visit is long over due Her tender caress The gental release Is dreamed of endlessly Because life is pain And Death is beyond
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| I thought I knew what desire was What it is to need to want I believed that I had felt the fire How wrong I was
Those things which came before The stirring of want others brought Are small and shallow Nothing to this surging need
You stroke my arm and side Fingers straying to my breast It is hard to catch my breath My checks blush
Teeth bite down on my lips Your lips are so soft Pressing on mine longingly Painfully sexy kisses
Your hands stray again My hands are wound in your hair I am moaning around your tongue Your hands send shivers through me
In but a few stolen moments I am ready to melt My mind cannot comprehend I do not try to understand
I want your mouth Bite me again and again Leave behind marks Sign posts of desire
Shyly we pull back What have you awaken in me? There is a hunger here I want to hurt
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| I want to feel you, the warmth of your body pressed up against me. I want to yield to the soft demand of your hands. I want to lay down my burdens and worry only about where to kiss you next. My eyes hunger to rove over your beloved features. The smell of you reminds me of passion filled nights I have only dreamed. The salt of your skin teases my tongue as she imagines other tantalizing tastes. My hands temple as they run up and down your back, your breath in my ear begging them not to stop. I know I must resist, but how long can this longing continue. I feel the need for you down in my hips. Your shy hands brushing my breast only make it scream all the loader and sweeter. Desire wells up in me in a wonderfully painful wetness. How long can this go on? Are you wondering the same things as I am? Do I awaken the same beast in your senses as you in mine? Your innocence taunts me. I admire that, which you are, and I want to take it, I want to break it. But your presence reminds my heart of a time when she was not so forward or lustful. I yearn to take my testing hands lower, but find that I feel as I did years ago. Touching you is like touching for the first time. It is almost as if you erase the past for a time, setting all that aside. I try to resist your voice, but I cannot hold up defenses to you. I am disarmed and helpless, loving every moment, every stroke of your thumb on my arm. Every fiber of me is in anticipation. I am waiting like a thoroughbred race horse or a grey hound at the starting lines. I am waiting for the gun to fire and set me free. How am I to resist when I can feel you yearning too? And yet it must be, it is my lot. I only hope that I am strong enough, that my past trails have readied me for this sensual battle. For now I will content myself with the pressure of your hand on mine, and your breath on my face.
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| How can I discover what is laying deep down inside your heart? If I ask you, the answer is not sure to be true. Silently, I believe that not even you know what it is that smolders within your heart. Who am I to you? Just some girl. A buddy you look down at. No, I could be more. But how to be sure? How do I know what lays behind your eyes? I am left to wonder.
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