[seasonal event] to find a soul somewhere

Deimos There was no more room for dissent, they take and give, give and take, remorseless and unrelenting: not as foes, but together, beatific and incandescent. He could, would, burn bright here, in this sanction and sanctuary, glorious and triumphant in his rapacious ascent; made her an altar, worshipped her presence, her essence, her existence. His hands were offerings, his teeth, his mouth, his lips a burning ritual, scalding, simmering, smoldering. Already on his knees, undone, unholy but divine in its own rites, craving and honoring, snagging and tempting, thirsting and savoring, wanton and thriving on their longing hymns. For those irresistible moments, he believed her: he was an inferno, he was a rampart, he was a bastion, he was a seething, audacious, emboldened beast, capable of lighting the world on fire, but only wanted her to catch ablaze with him. They could scorch and they could rampage and they could smolder in his fortifications, alive, whole; scalding ministrations bringing them higher and higher, beyond the heavens, beyond the stars. Unfaltering and resolute, the picture, the portrait, of interwoven tapestries and canvases, bestial bombardments in which to dream and conspire – listening to her whimpers, her moans, her groans, responding with relish and appreciation, a reverential whisper on his tongue. Somewhere along the way she’d slid into his lap, legs on either side of hips, and he stayed there for a time, a voracious sigh when her fingers trailed on his scars, on his skin, hot and bothered, flesh tingling and shuddering, shivering as they sketched and dipped. Reveling and revering, his heart was a crescendo while his mouth swallowed her mewls, need, need, need expressing its orchestra, its cacophony, against his flesh with nails and inhales, gasps in between the gaps, imploring them to go further, further, further, nothing to cease and desist. He wanted them breathless, senseless, without inhibition; untamed, savage, and wild without pretense or preamble, some newfound genesis in the sultry, sensual air. Her hands eventually pulled and tugged at his trousers, and he laughed against her lips, eyes closed, opened to their hooded fixtures, her greed mustered against his own as he strived to rearrange their current stance. One hand lifted her away from his hips while the other worked on divesting his remaining clothing, pulled, pushed, tossed, and shoved away to the sand, exposed and stripped and naked; not waiting for a reaction, settling her right back to where they’d started. Then his teeth tore away another portion of her hidden oeuvre, a masterpiece of suns and constellations. Thereafter he paid homage along her chest, breath billowing across her breasts, finding her lacking absolutely naught, far more than bones, far more than edges, and lines, mouth seeking absolution in the curve of her refrains and frame. His lips lingered on one, taking, devouring, consuming, little flames brought to fruition, yearning to kindle, to incense, to provoke. He followed the same pattern to the other, while his hands roamed, suspended and brushing against, along, the skin on her hips, teasing, encouraging her to quiver, to quaver, to shake in his arms, one finger, then two, tugging and dipping upon the waistband of her pants. At some point, she spoke into the haze, and he broke out of his cloud of lust and ardor, raising his head to glance at her – blue upon sable, radiant, glowing, aflame, while her hands wove their way into his hair, while they clutched and dug and his senses spun. “Yes,” came the guttural response, half animal, half ember, caught in fervid, igneous depictions, control and constraint an echoing demeanor, quickly becoming a figment of imagination. Is this what you want? his head tilted, incited inquisition to go further, if she allowed, if she granted, if she wished. She already had him; it only amounted to how much she was willing to take. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime