Pleba Girls Party:... Step in my caravan of love ...Mr lover keep it rockin ...

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MBS said:
1eeca439.jpg


:combust:




Does anybody else hate it when you write something and then decide you hate it? :|
Click to expand...
I do that all the time! :|
 
I'll bring the loofa wild....:flirt:




:|
3dropdebt.jpg


It's the middle of the night. He opens his door to see you standing there in shambles, not for the first time, and you resign yourself to admit, probably not the last. His hair is adorably wild, his clothes wrinkled - most llikely the result of him falling alseep in them.
He's groggy, his voice rough and deep having just been woken up. Yet he still misses nothing. Blue eyes quickly looking you over. A large, warm hand envelops your own, gently pulling you foreward as he murmurs for you to come in.
Now out of the cold, he pulls you to him. Strong arms wrap around you, pressing you tightly against a broad, and firm chest. Closing your eyes, you are surrounded by the scent of him, a mysterious blen of a touch of alcohol and spice, leather and just..heat. Warmth. Slow circles being rubbed up and down your back. Whispered words, hot breath against your ear and cheek. The soft scrath of scruff.
You hadn't even realized you were crying. Or that he was leading you deeper into his home. Lights are dim, and you barely recognize his bedroom as he sits you down. His presence constant as is his touch.
He's remains quiet but for his murmured comforts. He never pushes. Waits patiently as you just revel in the feel of him. Te strength and comfort. Soft lips are pressed against your temple, trailing down to your cheek, the corner of your lips.
He's lounging comfortably, your body pressed against his. His arms still around you, your head resting upon his welcoming chest....his neck so temptingly close.
Pure blue eyes, and that inexplicable part of him, that you can't explain, but are thankful for, nonetheless let you tell him your woes. And he listens, and cares. And he is what no one else has ever been. And you knew tonight that you would turn to no one else but him.
Eyes closing as his hands wander feather light across your body, his lips and tongue blazing a hot, wet trail. Getting lost in the touch, and taste, and heat of him.
More than distraction, it's a connection. You lie safe and warm, in the dim light of dawn. If only you could stay, this night, would be enough.


:|
Anyone want crackers for their cheese?
Or a bowl for their angst?
 
Last edited:
MBS said:
I'll bring the loofa wild....:flirt:




:|
3dropdebt.jpg


It's the middle of the night. He opens his door to see you standing there in shambles, not for the first time, and you resign yourself to admit, probably not the last. His hair is adorably wild, his clothes wrinkled - most llikely the result of him falling alseep in them.
He's groggy, his voice rough and deep having just been woken up. Yet he still misses nothing. Blue eyes quickly looking you over. A large, warm hand envelops your own, gently pulling you foreward as he murmurs for you to come in.
Now out of the cold, he pulls you to him. Strong arms wrap around you, pressing you tightly against a broad, and firm chest. Closing your eyes, you are surrounded by the scent of him, a mysterious blen of a touch of alcohol and spice, leather and just..heat. Warmth. Slow circles being rubbed up and down your back. Whispered words, hot breath against your ear and cheek. The soft scrath of scruff.
You hadn't even realized you were crying. Or that he was leading you deeper into his home. Lights are dim, and you barely recognize his bedroom as he sits you down. His presence constant as is his touch.
He's remains quiet but for his murmured comforts. He never pushes. Waits patiently as you just revel in the feel of him. Te strength and comfort. Soft lips are pressed against your temple, trailing down to your cheek, the corner of your lips.
He's lounging comfortably, your body pressed against his. His arms still around you, your head resting upon his welcoming chest....his neck so temptingly close.
Pure blue eyes, and that inexplicable part of him, that you can't explain, but are thankful for, nonetheless let you tell him your woes. And he listens, and cares. And he is what no one else has ever been. And you knew tonight that you would turn to no one else but him.
Eyes closing as his hands wander feather light across your body, his lips and tongue blazing a hot, wet trail. Getting lost in the touch, and taste, and heat of him.
More than distraction, it's a connection. You lie safe and warm, in the dim light of dawn. If only you could stay, this night, would be enough.


:|
Anyone want crackers for their cheese?
Or a bowl for their angst?
Click to expand...
I really like it Bri... it's a nice change from the smut!!!
 
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