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May 30, 2012
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He opened the latch on the door, her hand entwined in his, as he led the way to a lone bed in a small, austere room. She unzippered his zipper, untied his tie, and unbuckled his belt as he slid the wedding ring which weighed upon his long, thin finger. Steely blue eyes, pale as forget-me-nots, met in a burning gaze with eyes dark as midnight skies.

Trembling, his pale hands seized the cold metal of the zipper on the back of her dress. He traced the outline of her spine as the zipper made its way down, peeling the silky black garment from her skin. And she, in turn, slowly freed him from the confines of his white-collared shirt.

Pearl-coloured sheets enveloped their bare bodies as he hovered atop her, sliding in. He caressed her blushed cheeks, as if to console her, and continued to make his way in. She bit her lip. Hard thrusts of experience beat against tightening rose walls.

The night went on, his hungry lips thirsting for her neck, licking the lines along it, sucking the life from it like an aged lion biting down on the throat of a young gazelle.

His slender hands clenched her delicate wrists as he carried forward. He owned her. And yet she owned him still, her long legs wrapped around his svelte figure, letting him in but refusing him escape.

She continued his continuations, simple motions, each living through the thrusts of the moment. He was her and she was him, and that is all which existed in the world. Her varnished hands reached for the silver of his hair, her fingers running through it, her arms pulling him closer.

A series of moans followed by a single, drawn-out sigh. A blink followed by a liquid rush.

He retreated, tiny droplets of blood trailing along his path, staining crimson the once-immaculately white sheets. He found what she lost.

Once it was all over, he cradled her in his arms as a mother would a crying child. She was his sin, his soul, his treason. He held her close, taking in her fragrance of sex and lilacs.

Her eyes merely glimpsed at his, as she felt his bony finger wipe away a single tear. He fetched her a glass from the bedside table, and told her he loved her.

She imbibed the liquid, moistening her dried lips. An inky ocean of curls draped her face as she leaned in and gently grazed his lips with hers before enveloping them in a kiss. She whispered she loved him.

A scent of bitter almonds. Collapsed against his arms was she, his immortal beloved.

The sun rose over the rust-coloured horizon, amidst the dying milky way and stardust, its yellow rays shining upon his closing eyes as he held her closer still.
A story I wrote.
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:iconhakuyuki:
HakuYuki Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2013
o.o Dayum...Love how is sexy but classy at the same time :3
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:iconsakakiofabraxas:
SakakiOfAbraxas Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you! :3
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:iconhakuyuki:
HakuYuki Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2013
:3
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:icondasblondebiest:
DasBlondeBiest Featured By Owner May 30, 2012
How well I remember this! Good work!
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:iconsakakiofabraxas:
SakakiOfAbraxas Featured By Owner May 30, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you! Sexy Flanny stories are always the best!
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