August 10, 2002
a little tension [bianca]

[atlantic city boardwalk]

there is something that surrounds the Galliard

[silence]

an invisable, heavy blanket wrapped around long, lean form settled onto a bench near the railing, boots perch on the rail (as if they had eyes, to overlook the dark waves surging below) hands folded (almost neatly) across his lap, finger straddling the low-rise waistline of jeans, thumbs absent caress all but healed welts crisscrossing smooth abs

the is a distance that consumes him

::There is a darkness that she welcomes, that she thrives in, a glow that overcomes all that would destroy her, to bless her with continued existance (it is the hand of god)

Silent steps move over worn planks, thin form hugging near the rail, ever watchful, ever careful of the (..distance..) presense of others, of him. Dark eyes blink, (muffled voice sneers) and she makes her way to her (god) friend, but waits, nearby, so as not to (annoy) disturb him.::

the silence lingers....

a set of breakers comes to pass before his attention considers pulling away (the music of the spears) drunk on the scent that sea-breeze washes from her skin

"Hello SnakeEyes......"

rich voice frighteningly soft

::Though it seems - there is not much of him that frieghtens her (only his dissapproval) and the pet name pulls a smile across her lips and she moves closer, flowing to sit near him (but not too close - forever careful of those boundries) hands folding (demure) in her lap..::
"Evening, Asher... am I disturbing you?"
::Voice as soft a caress, submission to all that is rich (frightening) in his voice evident in the soft glow within her eyes as they seek mismatched gaze::

"No...."

or is that softness instead emptiness, those eyes casting idle glance towards her, a slow drag skywards a meeting of day, night, and kohl, the reward of a slight smile tugging a curve to his lips (or is it the sting of fingers across latent wounds in his skin)

::she smiles, and chooses to believe the smile is hers alone (blessings from above) and relaxes against the bench, just a little closer to him, her sigh content, the heat of her skin warming his though she does not actually touch.. (...burn baby burn...)::
"Listening to the Spears again?"

again, the slightest shake of his head, bangs twitching across his forhead, anticipating the action that never breaches surface

"No...."

even their music provides no comfort tonight
perhaps the smile was for her alone
or the warmth washing across his skin from hers (is it enough to burn me)

::She tips her head, just slightly, watching him (studying him) as a smile slips across her lips once more (...the burning yearn for his touch...) as she replies simply::
"oh."
::but she asks no more, for his answers do not invite such, the heat of her skin climbing a touch (...in anticipation...) as she cants her head, slightly, and waits.. content to remain in perfect readiness (..command me..)::

the idle contemplation carries on, as if he can hear the smile as it graces her lips a sweet chord all its own

"You've warmed...."

he noticed..... the shift in heat that touches a thousand fingers across his skin

::Another idle smile as she blushes (flushes with warmth) that he noticed it, chuckling softly::
"A taint I had yet to show you.. I forget until it happens... I will get hotter still before it eases - enough to burn. I'll move away before you are singed though.."
::unless, of course, asked to remain (I can burn you... as no other)::

"And yet you've still surprises for me....."

purred - it seems her distraction was welcome, a hand lifts of its own accord to satisfy curiosity on the bare curve of her shoulder, trails of tinged pink markers left in wake of slow (affectionate molestation) path, exploring this new taint, gathering knowledge of the (his) fomori

"How hot at climax?"

the myriad layers in his words

::The purr affects her as if intimate caress (perhaps it is) and his touch amplifies that and pulls a soft moan from deep in her throat.. eyes fall partially closed, heavily lidded as a slow breath is taken, and with the question, another notch higher clims the fever that boils under her skin::
"I... am not sure - but last time it seared the skin right off a man..."
::smiles, almost blushing.. admitting::
"and it could have gone higher - had I climaxed"

a pout nearly enters his words (poor thing) fingers curling, dragging blunt nails back up the (bloody) pink paths across her shoulder

"Too bad...... I prefer keeping my skin......."

all between them through the next set of waves that taunting (torturing) touch that plays her nerves a fine violin, notes registered in the flush that continues it's flood across her flesh

"Was it related or a fine coincidence......."

::moans softly, once more, as blunt nails travel across her shoulder... giving careful thought to the question::
"I am... unsure, really... it can be triggered by high emotion from what I have experienced - though I was angry with him at he last when it finally boiled his skin... it's a taint I've not experienced much.. so I don't know.."
::and underneath is the disappointment, the wish that she could appease him now, hoping that the touch will not cease for fear of loosing his skin::

smooth voice lowers, in a soft chortle (how amused he is with her)

his body lifts, twisting to kneel (at my altar of madness) on the bench to straddle her lap (demurely folded) hands a not even a breath below the weight that hangs in his jeans

"So tell me SnakeEyes....."

words a viper's whisper just out of reach of her lips, hands grasping the benchtop abreast her shoulders

".....what excites it now?"

::she trembles, though not with fear, with the sheer (joy) emotion that his kneeling above her brings boiling within, her moan soft, though hands - without permission for more - remain demurely folded, though within khol lined gaze burns far more then her inner volcano. A moment, before she can speak..::
"I fought with dinner, that is when it started, and now.. right now.."
::A pause, a breath, want thickened voice..::
"I burn with the desire to please you"

"Oh?"

purred torture low throttle in his throat, weight shifting (a delighted challenge dances in those unnatural eyes) to rest denim against the backs of her hands (such a perfectly behaved pet)

"And tell me..... SnakeEyes...." there is rapture promised in that voice ".... what do you think will please me"

::She moans, louder then before, trembling with the ache to touch, seeing his challenge, and remaining so very still, moving only enough to arch closer, drowning in mismatched gaze as the rapturous promise that careens through her (..burn baby burn..)::
"Again - I am not sure.. but merely voice your wish"
::my god, my Master::
"and I will fulfill it..."

"Oh SnakeEyes....."

chuckled softly, hands lifting from their wooden repose to let fingertips graze across her cheeks (you know how easily.... willingly..... your blood sheds for me) face cupped tilting her lips towards his own

[gaze upon my face and recieve the Father's blessing]

"I had hoped for a little more ingenuity..... what would please me most is a gift you thought of on your own."

and they touch (burn) as teeth grip the soft flesh of her lower lip in agonizing caress

::fear flickers within her gaze... her skinny frame trembling under him to think she may have garnered his displeasure by asking, though face willingly (Nakedly read) tips at his urging, her adoraton, hopefulness, desire almost a caress that's felt in her gaze, hands finally, slowly moving, backs of knuckles grazing against denim in lingering caress as the sting of teeth pulls a shuddering moan from deep within... her hands almost timid as they slide up to rest along his waist... gripping slifhtly... her voice an aching whisper..::
"I would give anything... I will think.... hard.... on how to please you..."

his groan is deep as it spills across her lips, rewarding response to how knuckles move to please (their singe amplified by fabric)

"Very hard...."

multilayered game chuckled in his words, hips rocking against her grip

"Find me when you've thought of something pleasing.... yes? I hate lonely nights SnakeEyes....."

a parting gift the second touch of their lips, a reward for her effort found in the (welcome invasion) of his tongue as it sweeps into her mouth...... the burn of her (his?) touch a lingering afterthought that accompanies his steps down the boardwalk, a chill all that lingers where his body was so close to hers

::She gasps as he rocks against her, curling instantly into his touch (..there are no so willing to be consumed..) as she all but cries out at the parting gift, eyes swimming darkly with the pureity of her longing, figners tightening against hips to keep him there just that fraction longer, pressing into the kiss, the tangle of his (their) tongue no less fierce in its briefness - conveying the intensity of her desire before he slides away... arms slide around herself, hugging the chill left to be swallowed in unholy fire that rages under her skin, khol darkened gaze near burning in their devouring of his skin as he walks away... voice a mere whisper..::
"as do I, Sir."

Posted by asher at August 10, 2002 12:00 AM
Comments
Post a comment
Name:


Email Address:


URL:


Comments:


Remember info?