This book changed my life
The Goat writes, "Some books have made a huge impact on my life." It's true. It wasn't until the b3ta mods read the Flashman novels that we changed from mild-mannered computer operators into heavily-whiskered copulators, poltroons and all round bastards in a well-known cavalry regiment.
What books have changed the way you think, the way you live, or just gave you a rollicking good time?
Friendly hint: A bit of background rather than just a bunch of book titles would make your stories more readable
( , Thu 15 May 2008, 15:11)
The Goat writes, "Some books have made a huge impact on my life." It's true. It wasn't until the b3ta mods read the Flashman novels that we changed from mild-mannered computer operators into heavily-whiskered copulators, poltroons and all round bastards in a well-known cavalry regiment.
What books have changed the way you think, the way you live, or just gave you a rollicking good time?
Friendly hint: A bit of background rather than just a bunch of book titles would make your stories more readable
( , Thu 15 May 2008, 15:11)
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cake sex
I don't know if he's going to actually go through with this. Sure, there's a safe word. I'm not going to use it. I'm shakily nervous but there's adrenalin too, excitement that courses through me. In the midst of growing fear there's arousal, and I'm wet at the thought. The waiting is unbearably, delightfully intense.
He grips the back of my neck, holding my head in place and I whimper as he runs the cake knife slowly up my bare arm, slides the flat edge along my collarbone and gently, softly, pricks the skin of my throat with its point.
"You dirty girl. You really want this don't you?"
I say nothing. My legs feel weak. Yes, I really want it. I'm ashamed that I want it, but christ, I do.
He moves around me, the blade of the knife still brushing my skin, and stops before me. He lifts the moist cake in his other hand, his eyes focused on mine. I stare, transfixed, as he brings it closer to my face. I feel the crumbs on my lips and they part to softly bite the sweet pastry. My mouth closes around it and I swallow.
( , Mon 19 May 2008, 21:18, Reply)
I don't know if he's going to actually go through with this. Sure, there's a safe word. I'm not going to use it. I'm shakily nervous but there's adrenalin too, excitement that courses through me. In the midst of growing fear there's arousal, and I'm wet at the thought. The waiting is unbearably, delightfully intense.
He grips the back of my neck, holding my head in place and I whimper as he runs the cake knife slowly up my bare arm, slides the flat edge along my collarbone and gently, softly, pricks the skin of my throat with its point.
"You dirty girl. You really want this don't you?"
I say nothing. My legs feel weak. Yes, I really want it. I'm ashamed that I want it, but christ, I do.
He moves around me, the blade of the knife still brushing my skin, and stops before me. He lifts the moist cake in his other hand, his eyes focused on mine. I stare, transfixed, as he brings it closer to my face. I feel the crumbs on my lips and they part to softly bite the sweet pastry. My mouth closes around it and I swallow.
( , Mon 19 May 2008, 21:18, Reply)
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