07-18-2020, 05:54 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-18-2020, 05:54 AM by Rowan Finnegan.)
Armande’s hand reached down to clasp Vale’s, at that same moment, Vale reached down to clasp Rowan’s free hand. They three formed a lop-sided triangle of sorts, all hands clumsily clasped as one. Rowan looked up to Vale and – reality shuddered.
The Eyes saw. Black and White on a silvery beach, the gibbous moon hanging above. Thick, heavy spools of light danced between the Eyes and the King’s hand grasped at the threads. With a deft hand, he wove their fate. With a tender touch, he wove they three together. Body and soul.
The weaving grew around them. A tapestry of light hung in the air with a delicate hand. Veins of gold surged out into the weaving. The tapestry grew until the Eyes saw nothing but. The tapestry vibrated and retreated back into the King – but still - veins of gold connected the King to the Eyes that see.
The King reached out and caressed the Eyes, their pale bodies melting at his touch. He came upon them with vigor and virility. Flesh met flesh, a triad of desire. The veins of gold seemed to weave itself around their writhing forms as three became one.
Reality shuddered.
Rowan had found that the vision – if it could be called that – had been a mirror of what they had begun in the waking world. The three of them had amassed into a sweaty entanglement on the carpeted floor of the camper. Not an unpleasant turn of events. She filed the thought away as one of their hands found a particularly soft spot. Abandoning all virtue, Rowan threw her head back and let out a moan, losing herself in the throes of ecstasy.
Reality seemed to shudder once more, but this time it was not due to a vision.
The Eyes saw. Black and White on a silvery beach, the gibbous moon hanging above. Thick, heavy spools of light danced between the Eyes and the King’s hand grasped at the threads. With a deft hand, he wove their fate. With a tender touch, he wove they three together. Body and soul.
The weaving grew around them. A tapestry of light hung in the air with a delicate hand. Veins of gold surged out into the weaving. The tapestry grew until the Eyes saw nothing but. The tapestry vibrated and retreated back into the King – but still - veins of gold connected the King to the Eyes that see.
The King reached out and caressed the Eyes, their pale bodies melting at his touch. He came upon them with vigor and virility. Flesh met flesh, a triad of desire. The veins of gold seemed to weave itself around their writhing forms as three became one.
Reality shuddered.
Rowan had found that the vision – if it could be called that – had been a mirror of what they had begun in the waking world. The three of them had amassed into a sweaty entanglement on the carpeted floor of the camper. Not an unpleasant turn of events. She filed the thought away as one of their hands found a particularly soft spot. Abandoning all virtue, Rowan threw her head back and let out a moan, losing herself in the throes of ecstasy.
Reality seemed to shudder once more, but this time it was not due to a vision.