"You see, it's called over the moon. You just put your legs here, and then I end up right here. Then that way, I can start doing this-" Santos thrust in and began a slow and steady rhythm, keeping a beat that sharp gasps and moans punctuated. He kept careful watch on Lilith's face, making sure she felt each pump. "-and it'll feel good.
"This garden is colossal. Where does is end, anyway?" Dante glared off into the distance, where sunlight went streaking through the edges of an amazonian tree, an unmoved mover of the world. It stood tall and mighty, with bright green leaves one hundred stories high. Near the base lay flowers, small black blossoms that looked as if they were imbued with pure night. The wind took their petals and burst them open, flaring this way and that way like butterfly wings.
From the black of the world and the shade, Ishtar appeared. Silence ran across the grounds as every heart spilled open, eyes drinking in the last of the ephemeral beauty. Death had its toll on her, and yet she was no less striking than her final hours. She stretched her hand out, softly and sweetly, and opened her fingers to lick the air; from one of them, a cherry fire broke out, lighting the world in blushing tones. It was low and hushed, flickering languidly until she brought it to her lips. Her lips, red as a sunset, red as strawberries. A gentle kiss snuffed the burn out and brought black to the field again.
The dark was broken into shards by the icy, rosy glow again, this time running through the last man's chest like a bullet aflame.
Then the blaze began. The shot had rang out, and his chest was flaring with a plume of pure carmine flame when it raged, tearing through him and carving a hole through the ground beneath him and the skies above. The moon caught the light of it and became bloodshot, a single drop of blood against the violet canvas that was the night. As the fires died, so did the stars.
"I don't know; I don't think I'm ready for this." She shied away and turned to face the corner, cheeks burning red. "I think there's still time. We can wait, right?"
".....I think I've waited long enough. If you're not ready, then you're just not ready. I can't wait forever for you. At some point, you'll have to grow up." Santos pressed himself against her, skin against skin despite the taboo she had set. "Now we can do it now, or you can wait. But I'm not going to wait any longer. What's it going to be?" He backed away and left her standing, eventually sitting on the bed and watching her shiver. "And you know, sex can make you a little warmer." A smile played across his lips as she turned to face him.
"This garden is colossal. Where does is end, anyway?" Dante glared off into the distance, where sunlight went streaking through the edges of an amazonian tree, an unmoved mover of the world. It stood tall and mighty, with bright green leaves one hundred stories high. Near the base lay flowers, small black blossoms that looked as if they were imbued with pure night. The wind took their petals and burst them open, flaring this way and that way like butterfly wings.
From the black of the world and the shade, Ishtar appeared. Silence ran across the grounds as every heart spilled open, eyes drinking in the last of the ephemeral beauty. Death had its toll on her, and yet she was no less striking than her final hours. She stretched her hand out, softly and sweetly, and opened her fingers to lick the air; from one of them, a cherry fire broke out, lighting the world in blushing tones. It was low and hushed, flickering languidly until she brought it to her lips. Her lips, red as a sunset, red as strawberries. A gentle kiss snuffed the burn out and brought black to the field again.
The dark was broken into shards by the icy, rosy glow again, this time running through the last man's chest like a bullet aflame.
Then the blaze began. The shot had rang out, and his chest was flaring with a plume of pure carmine flame when it raged, tearing through him and carving a hole through the ground beneath him and the skies above. The moon caught the light of it and became bloodshot, a single drop of blood against the violet canvas that was the night. As the fires died, so did the stars.
"I don't know; I don't think I'm ready for this." She shied away and turned to face the corner, cheeks burning red. "I think there's still time. We can wait, right?"
".....I think I've waited long enough. If you're not ready, then you're just not ready. I can't wait forever for you. At some point, you'll have to grow up." Santos pressed himself against her, skin against skin despite the taboo she had set. "Now we can do it now, or you can wait. But I'm not going to wait any longer. What's it going to be?" He backed away and left her standing, eventually sitting on the bed and watching her shiver. "And you know, sex can make you a little warmer." A smile played across his lips as she turned to face him.
