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06-10-2017, 03:40 PM
With total complacency, I yield into his mercy. Easily allowing it to encase, reassure. Cherishing the fleeting diversion of having his thick, robust flesh laying claim upon mine. The shield of tawny fringe curbs the wind from piercing. My head tilts, seeking a favored junction just elevated above his mountainous triceps. These cool, quivering whiskers brush over the memorized arch of his drizzled canvas. Delicate nostrils widen, drowning in that masculine, toxic fragrance…actively hunting for the resolve my insecurity perilously requires.
Childhood wasn’t spent at the side of a parent(s.) Our underground community required guardians to submit their offspring into a sterile environment…a nursery…run by a few, kindly ashen elders…But the age/energy of our chaperons was failing; they oversaw our lives from afar…but didn’t raise the fledgling troop. Older colts/fillies rose from our ranks…they (the gentler ones) looked after the soft foot children (those who hadn’t seen their six-month milestone.)
“Cold,” I whisper, melting into the curve of his broad, feathered shoulder with a sigh. “Yes…” easy agreement, though the mere thought of seeking physical gratification makes my stomach twist sideways. It's time... Mini me vaults, scowling disagreeably – while a tangled surge of illogical emotion pours into my expression like a tsunami. Circumstance had influenced the decision to withhold information; but no longer…interruption couldn’t be used as an excuse. ‘He might reject you,’ her blunt attempt to scare is received with a mix of fear and anguish. Our truce, partnership…the flame…resilient during ideal situations...but would it crumble beneath the weight of looming maturity?
“N-noah,” a soft petition, trembling from the undertow of a shaky exhale. Despite how his proximity offers comfort and insulation, I can’t seem to halt those violent shivers as they continue to defy me...My breast pinches sorely; the pulse is battering, overpowering. “We,” my tongue becomes like lead, rooted in place. Fibers are wooden. My forehead bears upon his solid neck, attempting to foolishly pull on his unwavering strength, “I-I…have child.” Shutters crack…the hot smog enveloping his neck becomes trapped inside me…waiting...
OC:
@Noah
Childhood wasn’t spent at the side of a parent(s.) Our underground community required guardians to submit their offspring into a sterile environment…a nursery…run by a few, kindly ashen elders…But the age/energy of our chaperons was failing; they oversaw our lives from afar…but didn’t raise the fledgling troop. Older colts/fillies rose from our ranks…they (the gentler ones) looked after the soft foot children (those who hadn’t seen their six-month milestone.)
“Cold,” I whisper, melting into the curve of his broad, feathered shoulder with a sigh. “Yes…” easy agreement, though the mere thought of seeking physical gratification makes my stomach twist sideways. It's time... Mini me vaults, scowling disagreeably – while a tangled surge of illogical emotion pours into my expression like a tsunami. Circumstance had influenced the decision to withhold information; but no longer…interruption couldn’t be used as an excuse. ‘He might reject you,’ her blunt attempt to scare is received with a mix of fear and anguish. Our truce, partnership…the flame…resilient during ideal situations...but would it crumble beneath the weight of looming maturity?
“N-noah,” a soft petition, trembling from the undertow of a shaky exhale. Despite how his proximity offers comfort and insulation, I can’t seem to halt those violent shivers as they continue to defy me...My breast pinches sorely; the pulse is battering, overpowering. “We,” my tongue becomes like lead, rooted in place. Fibers are wooden. My forehead bears upon his solid neck, attempting to foolishly pull on his unwavering strength, “I-I…have child.” Shutters crack…the hot smog enveloping his neck becomes trapped inside me…waiting...
OC:
@Noah
