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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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| Viewing Single Post From: Dashed Upon the Rocks of Self-Esteem | |
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| Guess | Jun 17 2009, 12:18 PM |
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The magician merely purred as she nipped at him and he returned the favor. Her touch was electrifying. He shivered inwardly as her finger scouted past his waist, and his stomach rippled as she brushed past it to reach his side. Razi was accommodating when he noticed Freya attempting to roll them both over. He assisted her, shifting his own weight accordingly so that the switch of positions was fluid. Now that she was prone beneath him, Razi pulled back from the kiss and held himself at arms length, his hands flat against the bed to either side of her shoulders. He looked at Freya a few moments more, roving her with his eyes, already envisioning what he wanted to do with her, or rather, to her before their time together ended. He then pulled back so that he was sitting on his knees, being careful not to apply any unwanted pressure as he towered over her. The magician then slowly covered his face with his hands and a dark mist began to billow upwards from between his fingers. A hissing sound accompanied the action, as if his hands were blazing hot and face freezing cold. When he let his arms fall to his sides, at the same time lowering himself so that he was once again arm’s length above Freya, many of the bandages had disappeared. Everything from the bridge of his nose and below was open to her, though he decided to keep the rest for reasons unknown. Razi’s chin was smooth to the touch; he had never had to deal with the necessity of shaving. Along his right cheek there was the beginning of a tattoo, done in an immaculate white, which actually began just a few breadths away from the corner of his mouth. The design was archaic in appearance, wing shaped with various tiny, intricate portions left unfilled in the shape of glyphs. It was a very interesting thing, but the full effect was lost since it disappeared underneath the bandages the magician had let intact. In his current position hovering over her, his robe fell open, draping to either side of him as he leaned forward to engage Freya’s mouth with his once more. Eventually he opted to simply shrug the item off completely, brushing it to the side, his unmarred torso becoming fully exposed to her. The magician possessed a muscle density that he thought complimented his tall stature; he was neither overly burly nor sticky thin and definition was abundant on him. After a bit of continuing the eager tongue dancing, he pulled his lips away from hers, grinning madly. Hungrily he moved his mouth to suck at her pulse, every now and then taking a moment to flick his tongue over the spot and to give the crook of her neck and shoulder the tiniest of nibbles. |
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| Dashed Upon the Rocks of Self-Esteem · The Hidden City of Ildri | |
