Mongychops rose gracefully from his chair. Subtlety glistened in the beads of sweat scattered sparsley across his broad, naked chest. The heat from the fire seemed but a candle compared to the furnace of his heart.
He leaned over, and slid into King Baby Duck with rehearsed ease. As sweet and as smooth as a perfect glissando; the cadence would not be heard until the morning.
(, Tue 9 Jun 2009, 17:37, archived)
(, Tue 9 Jun 2009, 17:39, archived)
I thought I saw FF, but it turns out I didn't.
(, Tue 9 Jun 2009, 17:39, archived)