The Adoring

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Love.. It's not a novel or some great artwork on a wall. It's not an invention or a destiny. It's an Adoring. Beyond obsession, it's Mary Jane Wyman. And her fantasy.. her humility.

A man.. A man's head.. Night after night in a dark moonlight bedroom. A touch so soft and sweet that it quivers like an alien's thumb. So spaztic.. so hot, that it oozes just thinking about it.

She picks a victim and treats him like she's in love. And scares the be-Jesus out of him. Because she's fascinated by her not knowing him. Because she's in love with a stranger. Because she knows everything already. And she flirts it out.. little by little.. A teasing. An enticing. A manipulating.. A control so precise and indelible that to his eyes she glows.

glamourmodels.com

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An experiment..

[Rodzo]

Great stuff

But, for God's sake use a spellchecker

it's "spastic" , and I should know

I've been called one often enough!

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Thankyou rodzo. :)

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The hostility was like a mood.. A beat or a sequence of beats pumping up the adrenalin. And with her mouth opened hovering above him she'd stare. And see it! So obvious from the top of his head.. Yet so irresistable. She'd say to herself: "I can change it."

"I can turn it around." Like it was some kind of clay. And then he'd grow tired, like all the angry do. And it was like the sexiest thing she'd ever seen before.. pressing. Fucking.. Wrapping his face in her pussy like it were a panic. And squeezing out this juice that had its endless supply by her fascination.

And like lightning, it'd shoot up from her center, straight to her mind. Taking her away, screaming with pleasure..

And until the orgasm was done she'd then gently pull herself away waiting the next one. Staring.. Hearing the many arguments. The many philosophies and theories and an angst so adorable in its place down there between her legs. Trapped in its seat. "Tell me.." She'd whisper so hot, and he'd do it! All the time.. Like a button for the next one.

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When she came back the next day, it was: "I've been thinking about you.. you know.." But it was like talking to a chair or a pole. "I thought about you all day." She said, putting down her briefcase.. rubbing the strains in her neck. "You're so smart.." She said: "What you told me yesterday? About bondage? Oh my god.. You're so smart." And a leg stepped up on a chair, and it was like a strip tease. Beautiful.. gentle.. elegant. "Let's talk some more, k?"

"You are a bitch!" "Oh.." And she giggled.

"A bitch.." He said, watching unbelievable beauty strip clear beauty even more so underneath. And you'd have expected another essay. Another grab at air's conscience.. Explaining the ethics.. the morality.. the rationality, pragmatic as can be, of what she was doing to him. Stripping herself naked, and full of goosebump. Cozy and warm, but cold as ice. And his breathing.. his eyes stared breathing, filling the room with a desparation at least as miserable as before. Because she didn't listen! She just fucked him on his face! Suffocating him!

And on the second day when she sat on her stool, cozey and velvetty, with a bouncy soft "kerplunk!" He screamed in terror. A struggle too internal for him. And the fingers in his hair made his whole being quake. Was it disgust? Was it sickening? No.. It was something else.

"Tell me.."

glamourmodels.com

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Yup.. kinda puts a new light, as in moonlight on "love yer neighbor".. I'm kinda still think'n about this one in the sense that, yah it's a brainwashing.. but what does she do? Does she let them go or make wine?

Does she untie the chains a man who now can't help but to adore her too? Or does she take his devotion, something entirely artificial and what she made, as her own? And take his life..

I don't know yet. But she's got a very powerful weapon under her thumb. A man's anger.. twisted.. switched.. turned around.. like a coin.. into eyes that look upon her unlike any other eyes in all the world. A manufactured love (or lust). And it might just all explode into the soul of her orgasm..

And the guys dead.

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You'd expect such a near psychotic predilection to come from some chick.. Because she knows. She does it every single day.. Every ... Single ... Day .... 2 hours in front of the mirror. Putting on makeup. "Looking acceptable."

The one thing about men that she knows scares him the most? Take anybody.. any guy out there on the street and tell him the truth: That no matter who it is.. A bum on the street.. all he needs is a haircut, a bath, a meal, and a fresh set of cloths and he can be EXACTLY like the guy you fell in love with. It's not the truth to you! But it's the worst fear come true for him. And she knows..

Everyday, in front of the mirror, makeup. Night and day.

In a sense he's in front of the mirror..