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Literature Text
Here, have a kiss to build a dream on, to fire the imagination, to feed a hungry heart. Glowing faces and gleeful hands, rejoice in one another's presence. Know what it is to be more than self in sharing and sharing alike the joy of soul and flesh in the comforting embrace of the others that love you.
And if, in gently backpeddling from questing tongue and light teeth on the shoulder more to brace comfortably to escape, your bare sole should squish chocolate that somehow escaped the bustier girlfriend's voracious efforts, it isn't really a notice with the thick of the activity and the busy interaction. Smell of cherry and sweetened cocoa just makes it a little more pleasant than sweat and pheromone really. Hips have yet to intertwine nor clothing to be removed, though breathing between six lungs and three pounding hearts certainly marks intent.
Fortunate, then, that there's more affection than lust, because -of course- there is an interruption. Little Robby, whether acting out as the psychic he is or simply gifted with timing to prevent the truly lewd, is at the door, crude but lovingly attempted valentines in hand for his mommy and her associates. Considering he's completely blind and largely untutored, they're really works of art.
What could he be if he hadn't been raised in a murderous, resource-starved wasteland?
What can the adorable little thing be -now-, actually, between being scooped up and hugged in squishy embrace and left marked in at least ten thousand lipstick marks of a different kind of happy pleasure entirely than the adult variant? He's been happy of late, here in this cleaner world, in the welcome grip of home. In having a family and learning what it means not to be running or gunning or fearing.
Sine's fixing hair and better clearing the couch to let them lounge and party in less a lusty manner, though even Robby's pointed innocence can't entirely stop the three from the occasional footsie or kiss as the television flickers on the dying embers of a day devoted to romance. The streamers and the colors and cards, all nice, but they had the key ingredients before and after the day itself, and hopefully will still long beyond its cheer:
They had each other.
Almost enough to make a supervillain sick, the fog of happy and the willingness to pretend not to be at all annoyed at the interruption while fixing up the slight 'accidental' spaghetti straps fallen or skirts lowered, but there you have it. Really, making out could wait for a better day. The older redhead actually seemed to expect such a stop, if her amused snorts between more settled cuddling is any indication.
Which of them whispered "I love you" and got the answer "we know" is probably self evident too, eh?
And if, in gently backpeddling from questing tongue and light teeth on the shoulder more to brace comfortably to escape, your bare sole should squish chocolate that somehow escaped the bustier girlfriend's voracious efforts, it isn't really a notice with the thick of the activity and the busy interaction. Smell of cherry and sweetened cocoa just makes it a little more pleasant than sweat and pheromone really. Hips have yet to intertwine nor clothing to be removed, though breathing between six lungs and three pounding hearts certainly marks intent.
Fortunate, then, that there's more affection than lust, because -of course- there is an interruption. Little Robby, whether acting out as the psychic he is or simply gifted with timing to prevent the truly lewd, is at the door, crude but lovingly attempted valentines in hand for his mommy and her associates. Considering he's completely blind and largely untutored, they're really works of art.
What could he be if he hadn't been raised in a murderous, resource-starved wasteland?
What can the adorable little thing be -now-, actually, between being scooped up and hugged in squishy embrace and left marked in at least ten thousand lipstick marks of a different kind of happy pleasure entirely than the adult variant? He's been happy of late, here in this cleaner world, in the welcome grip of home. In having a family and learning what it means not to be running or gunning or fearing.
Sine's fixing hair and better clearing the couch to let them lounge and party in less a lusty manner, though even Robby's pointed innocence can't entirely stop the three from the occasional footsie or kiss as the television flickers on the dying embers of a day devoted to romance. The streamers and the colors and cards, all nice, but they had the key ingredients before and after the day itself, and hopefully will still long beyond its cheer:
They had each other.
Almost enough to make a supervillain sick, the fog of happy and the willingness to pretend not to be at all annoyed at the interruption while fixing up the slight 'accidental' spaghetti straps fallen or skirts lowered, but there you have it. Really, making out could wait for a better day. The older redhead actually seemed to expect such a stop, if her amused snorts between more settled cuddling is any indication.
Which of them whispered "I love you" and got the answer "we know" is probably self evident too, eh?
Komodo requested I go through with trying a cuddlestuff. :F This probably doesn't qualify. As anything, really.
© 2015 - 2024 LeSieur
Comments4
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Holy shit, I need to check my messages more often. This is excellent, and stirring. With feelings of that warm love that tastes like safety, not the feelings of quickening heartbeats and of blood warming. I love this. You can write love as well as you do murder and madness. I miss your writing.