- Local time
- Today 10:08 AM
- Messages
- 601
- Age
- 51
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Florentin stood there, late at night with the window open. The air had a crispness to it which made bumps appear instantly on his skin. He shivered but it was not from the cold. It had been the letter he had receive from his love, his wife to be, Violette. He could still smell her perfume in the room, strong as it was last night when she came to him and they both agreed with what was to happen to her before their marriage. He knew their marriage was not to be conventional but he did not know what she proposed was going to do to him. Now he knew, and he felt a sensation inside him fighting to take form, to get loose from him. Training did nothing to quell the sensation. Thus he was here in his rooms, a quill in hand. Right now ink dripped upon the page, unsure where to begin. Long minutes passed before with a shake of his head, he discarded the ink stained parchment and with an unmarred surface before him, he began to write.
[hr[
I almost lost her tonight I think. I came as close to it as I ever care to. I look over to her, her sleeping soundly in the bed, the sheets pooled about her waist, and the moonlight illuminating the lovely expanse of her back, her marquee glowing in the soft light. My heart aches at the sight just as the loins stir, but I dare not. She needs to rest, and a small smirk graces my face. I have indeed worn her out this night, with using each of her passages at least twice, though I know she can take more. I love her so, and I think I would die without her now. Not even my love and devotion for my sister would keep me alive. Still we went to the brink this night, and we have arrived stronger this night, our love more secure. It is not only the flesh I love about her, but her spirit, her soul. I am hers and she is mine, now and always.
I move to sit on the bed beside her, stroking her, caressing her, my mind already turning to events this night, and beyond. I wish I had words to describe why seeing her being used sexually, seeing her use others sexually, stirs my lust and passion so. Perhaps it is because as she does so, her lust and passion for me grow hotter, as does mine for her. I am not jealous of her lovers. No, I am glad of them, glad they can awake something into her something so primal and carnal that I get to reap the benefit from.
Already again her words this night stir me again, make my manhood stiff with arousal as I slide behind her, unable to resist her anymore. As I position myself, as I slide into her still wet liquid heart, I recall the lust whispered words.
"He held me down with his hands as he took me, long and hard, with such powerful thrusts that bruised my flesh of my inner thighs. Once, he only took me once, there was only time for once, but he hinted at other times to come, times where he will take me up to his bed chamber, and then he will truly make me beg…"
"I want to be pushed; I want to know my limits. I want him to use me harshly and to make me scream my singale. Then, after that, for him to really take me…"
"You will leave and be alone in the Palias three days before the wedding. On our wedding night, I will come to you, with his mark upon my flesh, his seed staining my sex and thighs, and I will give myself to you."
I thrust hard into her with each and every one of those thoughts. I have told her my plans. I have given her my instructions. She is to get with Sylvia, and wear what a newly debuted Valerian wears for their first patron when she comes to me on our wedding night. I will bind her, display her before a full length mirror, and make her watch herself I do to her what the Mandrake Dowayne did, and more. She will be just Violette that night with me, not the Princess, not the Baroness, not the Courtesan, only Violette, giving me everything as I make her utter her signale, then take her like she has never been taken before.
At this, I spill my seed into her. She is so exhausted, she barely stirs, but I see that secret smile upon her lips, I feel her sex grip and milk every last drop of my seed from me, and I know that she is dreaming, and that she is dreaming of me. Our wedding cannot come soon enough, the day where we will belong to one another, body and soul, joined in fate and destiny by the Companions. I kiss her shoulder and stay buried inside her as I press my body against hers, and settle into sleep, whispering to her. "I love you."
He put the quill down, and sprinkled sand over the page to assist the ink to dry. He stared at it for a period of time before carefully folded it. He took out the wax and pressed his ring into the still liquid seal. Once it dried he took it into his hand. He left his chamber, looking for a servant to serve as messenger. He wanted her to know his deep thoughts, to connect with her in a way they had not before as the both entered a new phase in their lives.
[hr[
I almost lost her tonight I think. I came as close to it as I ever care to. I look over to her, her sleeping soundly in the bed, the sheets pooled about her waist, and the moonlight illuminating the lovely expanse of her back, her marquee glowing in the soft light. My heart aches at the sight just as the loins stir, but I dare not. She needs to rest, and a small smirk graces my face. I have indeed worn her out this night, with using each of her passages at least twice, though I know she can take more. I love her so, and I think I would die without her now. Not even my love and devotion for my sister would keep me alive. Still we went to the brink this night, and we have arrived stronger this night, our love more secure. It is not only the flesh I love about her, but her spirit, her soul. I am hers and she is mine, now and always.
I move to sit on the bed beside her, stroking her, caressing her, my mind already turning to events this night, and beyond. I wish I had words to describe why seeing her being used sexually, seeing her use others sexually, stirs my lust and passion so. Perhaps it is because as she does so, her lust and passion for me grow hotter, as does mine for her. I am not jealous of her lovers. No, I am glad of them, glad they can awake something into her something so primal and carnal that I get to reap the benefit from.
Already again her words this night stir me again, make my manhood stiff with arousal as I slide behind her, unable to resist her anymore. As I position myself, as I slide into her still wet liquid heart, I recall the lust whispered words.
"He held me down with his hands as he took me, long and hard, with such powerful thrusts that bruised my flesh of my inner thighs. Once, he only took me once, there was only time for once, but he hinted at other times to come, times where he will take me up to his bed chamber, and then he will truly make me beg…"
"I want to be pushed; I want to know my limits. I want him to use me harshly and to make me scream my singale. Then, after that, for him to really take me…"
"You will leave and be alone in the Palias three days before the wedding. On our wedding night, I will come to you, with his mark upon my flesh, his seed staining my sex and thighs, and I will give myself to you."
I thrust hard into her with each and every one of those thoughts. I have told her my plans. I have given her my instructions. She is to get with Sylvia, and wear what a newly debuted Valerian wears for their first patron when she comes to me on our wedding night. I will bind her, display her before a full length mirror, and make her watch herself I do to her what the Mandrake Dowayne did, and more. She will be just Violette that night with me, not the Princess, not the Baroness, not the Courtesan, only Violette, giving me everything as I make her utter her signale, then take her like she has never been taken before.
At this, I spill my seed into her. She is so exhausted, she barely stirs, but I see that secret smile upon her lips, I feel her sex grip and milk every last drop of my seed from me, and I know that she is dreaming, and that she is dreaming of me. Our wedding cannot come soon enough, the day where we will belong to one another, body and soul, joined in fate and destiny by the Companions. I kiss her shoulder and stay buried inside her as I press my body against hers, and settle into sleep, whispering to her. "I love you."
He put the quill down, and sprinkled sand over the page to assist the ink to dry. He stared at it for a period of time before carefully folded it. He took out the wax and pressed his ring into the still liquid seal. Once it dried he took it into his hand. He left his chamber, looking for a servant to serve as messenger. He wanted her to know his deep thoughts, to connect with her in a way they had not before as the both entered a new phase in their lives.