Flowers of perversion... Dare to Surrender?

[Tier]

Also guys, you should know that your tongue is not a simple replacement for your cock: it is unnecessary and way too boring if you keep on darting your tongue in your sweetheart’s pussy with the same constant movement of back and forth. A tongue is not a jackhammer, although three other girls may have convinced you otherwise when your were celebrating the end secondary school.

 

[Tier]

All in all, good cunnilingus needs to be long, never rushed and free of interruptions from an overly eager cock or – worse – nagging questions such as do you like it, tell me you love it, is my tongue made for your pussy or what, huh? Guys must forget their ego and the possibility of standing on an oral sex podium.

 

[Tier]

After an orgasm, please don’t get up right away to drink a glass of water. Continue to munch, because girls are lucky, they can cum longer than guys. Wait until she begs you to stop, or until she snores or speaks about the weird music the neighbour listens to during the day, before you grab your cock to continue sexual acrobatics. Bon appétit!

 

[Tier]

 

[Tier]

 

[Tier]

You must be starving, you haven't eaten in days.. Have you ever had...... Real roast duck? It's very rare, very........ Exotic. Try it, you'll never have better.... "What do I want?" You ask... I want, the same things that you want... I want to be free..... From a life of suffering... Sacrifice..... To no longer be told, that your every desire is a Sin... And after all, If your not committing Sin, your not having..... Fun. Now you ask me "what I am".... I'm the bringer of the tides... I am the wave to wash clean.. This unclean world... And you will help me.... Do it! Humankind will find no quarter.... From what is coming! This I promise...

 

[Tier]

Pure... Reflections.

 

[Tier]

The Rose and the Nightingale...

"She will dance with me,"
He murmured to himself,
"If I bring her a white rose,
Pure as a snowflake,
And sweet as a summer day."

Sitting there in the garden,
His blue eyes fell shut
As the wind ran her fingers
Through his dark hair.
His lips parted in a sigh,
Enjoying the warm afternoon sun
And the thoughts of the one he loves.

"His is the song I've sung
My entire life,"
Chirped the little nightingale,
"Without knowing it,
I have told his story a thousand times
To the moon and the stars
That light the night sky.
I've sung of hope and joy
And True Love and
Happily Ever Afters
To the trees and the flowers
That in this garden grow."

But the young man cried,
"But I have no rose to give her!"
He covered his face with his hands
And cried.
His whole body shook
As the hope for real love,
The kind that many people
Spend their whole lives looking for
In all the wrong places,
Flew away in the wind.
"She'll never realise I am the one for her,
If I cannot find a white rose
And ask her to dance,"
He cried.

The little nightingale's heart was touched
By the young lover.
She cried out her song for him,
For all the lost loves in the world.
He, she determined, was not going to be one of them.
The nightingale decided that
She would find him a rose,
With which he could woo the girl he so loved.

She flew on delicate wings to the rose bush
That grew beside the fountain.
"If you would give me a pure white rose,
I will sing you my sweetest song
All the nights of my life."
But the rose bush answered,
"I have only yellow roses,
Bright as lemons and sunshine,
And sweet as springtime honey.
Ask my brother who climbs the arbor,
He may give you what you desire."

So the sweet nightingale flew to the rose vine
That was tangled on the arbor.
"If you would give me a pure white rose,
I will sing you my sweetest song
All the nights of my life."
But the rose vine replied,
"I have only pink roses,
Pink as a maiden's blush
On the day she weds her beau.
Ask my brother who grows
Under the young man's window.
He may give you what you desire."

So the nightingale flew to the rose bush
That grew under the young man's window.
"If you would give me a pure white rose,
I will sing you my sweetest song
All the nights of my life."
To which the rose bush replied,
"I have only red roses,
Dark and rich as faerie wine,
Red as the blood of your heart,
Sweeter than stolen kisses under the moon.
But I can give you a white rose."
Filled with hope and joy,
The nightingale replied,
"I will give anything for a white rose,
What must I do?"
The rose bush shook its petals sadly.
"The way is too awful.
I cannot tell you."
The nightingale knew the value of love;
She would do anything for the rose.
"There is a way, little bird.
By moonlight you must come close
And press you breast against my thorns.
Love is sharp and you must not be afraid.
You must sing your sweetest song all night,
And press closer to me,
Until my thorn pierces your heart
And all your heart-blood runs out.
It is the only way."

The nightingale thought about this.
"What price would not be paid for love?
How much greater is the love of this young man
Than the life of a little bird?
This I will gladly do,
For true love's sake."

So the nightingale flew across the garden,
Where the lover had not yet dried
The tears from his eyes.
His cheeks were stained
Pink with his sadness,
His eyes shimmered with tears yet unreleased.
She sang to him to be hopeful,
To believe in his love,
And that all will be well.
The blue-eyed young man
Smiled at the nightingale,
For her song was beautiful,
Though he did not understand.

The nightingale flew about the garden,
Enjoying the beauty of life.
She sang to the oak trees and the daffodils,
And they wept that they would not hear her song again.
They were comforted that she would be silenced for love,
For love has no price too great.

The earth ate the last rays of the sun
And the moon shone
Wan and pallid in the night sky.
She, too, was sad to hear only this one last song
From the nightingale.

Then the bird flew to the red rose bush
And pressed her breast against the thorn.
She sang her sweetest song.
It was so beautiful that all the dead lovers of the world
Shuddered in their graves
With the reminder of the love in life,
The wind joined her voice with the nightingale's
And carried her song to the ends of the the earth,
To the darkest caves where Echo returned it,
To the ocean's waves that kept the time,
To the peaceful moors where the grass danced along,
To the sleeping child to give her sweet dreams.

"Closer, closer!"
Urged the rose bush,
"I must taste your heart's blood
Before dawn,
Or the rose will not be done."

So the nightingale pressed closer still to the thorn
As the rose bush spun the most beautiful rose
It had ever spun.
But red! A red red rose it was.
"Closer still!"
Cried the rose bush,
And the nightingale pressed closer until her heart was pricked.
A bolt of pain struck the nightingale
And her song rang out through the garden,
Her melody, sweet with love and anguish,
Reached the ears of the young man.
He sat up in his bed,
And was so moved by the nightingale's song,
He stayed awake to listen.

As the nightingale's heart-blood poured onto the rose,
The reddest rose washed white as a freshly fallen snow,
Her tears mingled with the blood,
For only blood can wash out blood,
And only tears can heal.
And so the red rose became white,
As dewdrops and starlight,
As the nightingale's voice grew faint.
And she fell to the ground as the first breath of dawn
Shone gray on the horizon.

The whole garden heaved a sigh
As the nightingale's song was done.
A chorus of flowers and crickets and wind
Sang their mournful song
For the little nightingale
Who gave her life for love.

When the sun had risen in the sky,
The young man walked out into the garden
And saw the white rose.
Carefully he cut it, admiring its beauty.
He did not notice the nightingale,
Laying dead on the ground.

He gazed at the rose in awe,
And inhaled its damask perfume.
It smelled of starlight and sweet dreams,
Of mothers' lullabies and midnight kisses,
Of laughter and heartache,
Of True Love and tender death.

"This is the rose for my beloved,"
He said to himself,
And he prepared himself for the ball.

That night, when the sun had set again,
He met his fair lady, whom he so dearly loved.
"This rose is for you, so that you will dance with me."
He handed her the rose, the white rose with no thorns.
She took it gently, breathing in its scent.

"Dear boy, I will dance with you tonight."

He took her hand and led her out onto the floor.
They danced and danced
All through the evening,
More than rules of decency allow.
She smiled and laughed and fell in love.

When the evening closed
And it was time to go home,
She held the white rose close to her heart
And breathed in its sweet perfume.
Her heart was happy
And faintly, a nightingale's song
Seemed to whisper in her ear.
Louder and louder it's beautiful song became...
Petals moving if by magic...
Flower to feathers...
Rose to Nightingale.. The Moon had recognised,
Her selfless act... All because of true love..
The nightingale flew about the garden,
Enjoying the beauty of life.
She sang to the oak trees and the daffodils,
And they wept in joy because they could hear her song again.

The love of his life grabbed him by the hand,
The man whom she loved.

"I will dance with you all the nights of my life,
If you so desire," she whispered.
"My darling, I desire no more," the young man smiled,
His blue eyes sparkling in the lamplight.

For love is a silly thing.
It is not half so useful as logic,
But it is twice so important.
True Love tells only things
That are the most true.
It tells of joy and comfort,
But also of sacrifice and pain.
And in this age,
Though to be practical is everything,
True Love is the most important of all.

 

[Rossee40dd]

View attachment 51926

The Rose and the Nightingale...

"She will dance with me,"
He murmured to himself,
"If I bring her a white rose,
Pure as a snowflake,
And sweet as a summer day."

Sitting there in the garden,
His blue eyes fell shut
As the wind ran her fingers
Through his dark hair.
His lips parted in a sigh,
Enjoying the warm afternoon sun
And the thoughts of the one he loves.

"His is the song I've sung
My entire life,"
Chirped the little nightingale,
"Without knowing it,
I have told his story a thousand times
To the moon and the stars
That light the night sky.
I've sung of hope and joy
And True Love and
Happily Ever Afters
To the trees and the flowers
That in this garden grow."

But the young man cried,
"But I have no rose to give her!"
He covered his face with his hands
And cried.
His whole body shook
As the hope for real love,
The kind that many people
Spend their whole lives looking for
In all the wrong places,
Flew away in the wind.
"She'll never realize I am the one for her,
If I cannot find a white rose
And ask her to dance,"
He cried.

The little nightingale's heart was touched
By the young lover.
She cried out her song for him,
For all the lost loves in the world.
He, she determined, was not going to be one of them.
The nightingale decided that
She would find him a rose,
With which he could woo the girl he so loved.

She flew on delicate wings to the rose bush
That grew beside the fountain.
"If you would give me a pure white rose,
I will sing you my sweetest song
All the nights of my life."
But the rose bush answered,
"I have only yellow roses,
Bright as lemons and sunshine,
And sweet as springtime honey.
Ask my brother who climbs the arbor,
He may give you what you desire."

So the sweet nightingale flew to the rose vine
That was tangled on the arbor.
"If you would give me a pure white rose,
I will sing you my sweetest song
All the nights of my life."
But the rose vine replied,
"I have only pink roses,
Pink as a maiden's blush
On the day she weds her beau.
Ask my brother who grows
Under the young man's window.
He may give you what you desire."

So the nightingale flew to the rose bush
That grew under the young man's window.
"If you would give me a pure white rose,
I will sing you my sweetest song
All the nights of my life."
To which the rose bush replied,
"I have only red roses,
Dark and rich as faerie wine,
Red as the blood of your heart,
Sweeter than stolen kisses under the moon.
But I can give you a white rose."
Filled with hope and joy,
The nightingale replied,
"I will give anything for a white rose,
What must I do?"
The rose bush shook its petals sadly.
"The way is too awful.
I cannot tell you."
The nightingale knew the value of love;
She would do anything for the rose.
"There is a way, little bird.
By moonlight you must come close
And press you breast against my thorns.
Love is sharp and you must not be afraid.
You must sing your sweetest song all night,
And press closer to me,
Until my thorn pierces your heart
And all your heart-blood runs out.
It is the only way."

The nightingale thought about this.
"What price would not be paid for love?
How much greater is the love of this young man
Than the life of a little bird?
This I will gladly do,
For true love's sake."

So the nightingale flew across the garden,
Where the lover had not yet dried
The tears from his eyes.
His cheeks were stained
Pink with his sadness,
His eyes shimmered with tears yet unreleased.
She sang to him to be hopeful,
To believe in his love,
And that all will be well.
The blue-eyed young man
Smiled at the nightingale,
For her song was beautiful,
Though he did not understand.

The nightingale flew about the garden,
Enjoying the beauty of life.
She sang to the oak trees and the daffodils,
And they wept that they would not hear her song again.
They were comforted that she would be silenced for love,
For love has no price too great.

The earth ate the last rays of the sun
And the moon shone
Wan and pallid in the night sky.
She, too, was sad to hear only this one last song
From the nightingale.

Then the bird flew to the red rose bush
And pressed her breast against the thorn.
She sang her sweetest song.
It was so beautiful that all the dead lovers of the world
Shuddered in their graves
With the reminder of the love in life,
The wind joined her voice with the nightingale's
And carried her song to the ends of the the earth,
To the darkest caves where Echo returned it,
To the ocean's waves that kept the time,
To the peaceful moors where the grass danced along,
To the sleeping child to give her sweet dreams.

"Closer, closer!"
Urged the rose bush,
"I must taste your heart's blood
Before dawn,
Or the rose will not be done."

So the nightingale pressed closer still to the thorn
As the rose bush spun the most beautiful rose
It had ever spun.
But red! A red red rose it was.
"Closer still!"
Cried the rose bush,
And the nightingale pressed closer until her heart was pricked.
A bolt of pain struck the nightingale
And her song rang out through the garden,
Her melody, sweet with love and anguish,
Reached the ears of the young man.
He sat up in his bed,
And was so moved by the nightingale's song,
He stayed awake to listen.

As the nightingale's heart-blood poured onto the rose,
The reddest rose washed white as a freshly fallen snow,
Her tears mingled with the blood,
For only blood can wash out blood,
And only tears can heal.
And so the red rose became white,
As dewdrops and starlight,
As the nightingale's voice grew faint.
And she fell to the ground as the first breath of dawn
Shone gray on the horizon.

The whole garden heaved a sigh
As the nightingale's song was done.
A chorus of flowers and crickets and wind
Sang their mournful song
For the little nightingale
Who gave her life for love.

When the sun had risen in the sky,
The young man walked out into the garden
And saw the white rose.
Carefully he cut it, admiring its beauty.
He did not notice the nightingale,
Laying dead on the ground.

He gazed at the rose in awe,
And inhaled its damask perfume.
It smelled of starlight and sweet dreams,
Of mothers' lullabies and midnight kisses,
Of laughter and heartache,
Of True Love and tender death.

"This is the rose for my beloved,"
He said to himself,
And he prepared himself for the ball.

That night, when the sun had set again,
He met his fair lady, whom he so dearly loved.
"This rose is for you, so that you will dance with me."
He handed her the rose, the white rose with no thorns.
She took it gently, breathing in its scent.

"Dear boy, I will dance with you tonight."

He took her hand and led her out onto the floor.
They danced and danced
All through the evening,
More than rules of decency allow.
She smiled and laughed and fell in love.

When the evening closed
And it was time to go home,
She held the white rose close to her heart
And breathed in its sweet perfume.
Her heart was happy
And faintly, a nightingale's song
Seemed to whisper in her ear.
Louder and louder it's beautiful song became...
Petals moving if by magic...
Flower to feathers...
Rose to Nightingale.. The Moon had recognised,
Her selfless act... All because of true love..
The nightingale flew about the garden,
Enjoying the beauty of life.
She sang to the oak trees and the daffodils,
And they wept in joy because they could hear her song again.

The love of his life grabbed him by the hand,
The man whom she loved.

"I will dance with you all the nights of my life,
If you so desire," she whispered.
"My darling, I desire no more," the young man smiled,
His blue eyes sparkling in the lamplight.

For love is a silly thing.
It is not half so useful as logic,
But it is twice so important.
True Love tells only things
That are the most true.
It tells of joy and comfort,
But also of sacrifice and pain.
And in this age,
Though to be practical is everything,
True Love is the most important of all.[/QUOTE
Just beautiful.

 

[Tier]

There are times when the ocean is not the ocean - not blue, not even water, but some violent explosion of energy and danger: ferocity on a scale only gods can summon. The oceans never stop ... the wind never finishes. Sometimes it disappears, but only to gather momentum from somewhere else. The sound is a roaring of a beast whose anger knows no limits. Those are the nights the light is needed most....

You are to me... As a lighthouse is to the moth.

 

[Tier]

The labyrinth of another's mind... Is always a delicious place... To find yourself completely consumed. A Stranger in a Strange Land.

 

[Tier]

Bound for Desire.


This Moment comes from a source of passion and lust I never once fathomed

It unfolded naturally and unexpectedly and I cannot concentrate on anything else

It has opened a floodgate of raw emotion

Burning me with a gentle fire

Slowly whispering through my mind

Consuming all thought

Daydreams of lust until my arousal leaves a trail of cum dripping down my leg

Causing me to pleasure myself more times in one day than ever I have

Awoken by his ardor and animalistic seduction

The sleeping Beast inside me now craves a primitive desire to submit to his Will

My body - His

This constant throb between my legs

A pulsating new Truth

The ever present need to feel the sensual security of his rope around me

Keeping me safe

Setting loose the slovenly butterflies that have been in deep slumber, forgetting the honey

Memories of his satisfying torture

As I breathed the pain into myself

Which warmed me to my core and continues to kindle this burning fire

That exchange of Power between us

A frenzied craving - me

Reciprocated in his piercing stare while he did so many things to my body and mind

So when I arrived upon his doorstep, the butterflies were all a flutter

Remembering all the places he touched

Craving his sweet honey

My sweaty shaky hands trembled as I knocked, knowing what fate awaited me on the other side of the door

God how I've wanted this since the moment I left the time before

Once inside, it's like I entered my own secret world

A world he accustoms to my salacious secrets and libidinous lust

His every touch as he ties me up - soft and sensual

Lightly kissing my neck, heightening my arousal

My pussy quivering with the need for his strong hands, his fingers, his mouth

Suspended in the air, floating away from everything and everyone

The outside world forgotten

Only him

His rope - an extension of himself to me while I bind my body to him in a moment of perfect trust

He lowers me and as he slowly unties me from behind, he rapaciously caresses and slaps my breasts

Lascivious licks

Sweet suffering

Pinching my nipples and scratching me with his nails

Heavy breathing in my ear

Making me melt

Into him

Euphoric connection

Covering my face with my hands as he wraps the rope around my head, blindfolding me

The unexpected feeling of safety in his arms as he holds me close, chokes me, ravishes me

Slapping my pussy and inner thighs as the endorphins rouse within

From my darker depths, previously ignored

He slowly slides his hands down my stomach and into my panties

Rubbing my clit

Aggressive fingering

I gasp

I can barely breathe and feel a cathartic release building inside me as he speeds up

I soak his fingers

My desire increasing to feel his big thick hard cock inside me

How deep can he go? I must know

Each untie jerking me every which way as I could hear his moans escalate with mutual passion

Flipping me around like it's nothing to him where suddenly I'm straddling him

Gazing into his fervent eyes as he licks, bites and sucks on my breasts

Chill bumps all over my body

Shivers down my spine

Still slowly untying me as if I'm some gift he carefully wants to open

Leaving one leg tied - his display of power

Wrapping my arms around him as I caressed strong shoulders, back and arms

Embracing each other with such fervour as we grind into one another

Exploring and excavating

Intensity and desperate need - strengthening

Coated in each other's sweet sweat

I pulled out his hard cock to feel his soft skin rub against my throbbing soaked pussy

God, how I want him right then and there

He lays on his back and I crawl onto him, continuously rubbing against him

He keenly kisses me and I love the feel of his tongue in my mouth

How will I ever get enough?

I collapse onto him

Whole body shuddering from his sybaritic scrutiny

He flips me over on my back and shoves his big cock into my mouth

I gladly take all of him in

I suck his dick and lick up and down his shaft as he stares down on me, watching

He presses himself deeper into my throat telling me to take it all and I submit

I will always submit

He gently rubs his cock all over my chest, between my breasts

The heat from his skin warming me

He stands above me and presses his foot against my throat, just hard enough

Lightly trails his toe down my chest and stomach and starts to rub my pussy with his foot

Unwavering power within his eyes and I lay there exposed, helpless and Owned

He takes the leg still in rope and ties it to his ceiling

Between my legs - a magnificent display

Just for him

He kneels

Oh god, what will he do next?

I close my eyes and wait for it to cum

He lightly blows on my clit and I want to burst from within

Finally, he unleashes his tongue

Sucking and circling in

Kissing my lips, intensely tonging my clit

Rubbing my pelvis into his face -- cannot get enough

Unhurried

Speeding up

Sliding his fingers deep inside me

The deeper he goes, the stronger our bond

Our hunger, no longer contained as he feasts on my pussy

Quenching his thirst

Fingers in and out

Tender no more

My body - a puddle

Staring at one another in This Moment he has imparted to me

Him bathing in the beauty of the erotic experience he has bestowed upon me

Searing us both with this memory

I cry out

I cum

I collapse with pleasure

Deeply marked

Forever...

 

[Tier]

Love your kitty

 

[Tier]

 

[Tier]

 

[Tier]

 

[Tier]

 

[Tier]

 

[Tier]

Love your kitty

 

[Tier]