I invited her into the back of my shop and sat her down. "Agatha you are a goddess and should be treated like a queen. I am a wealthy man and wish to ...pend my life with a beautiful woman like you." I proceeded to tell her about the real me, about vampirism and how it all works. She showed a fascination and an eagerness to learn more. I was only too happy to show her. Over the next few weeks, she came to the back and read my old manuscripts. I found her sweet scent intoxicating, making me dizzy. With your wrists bound tightly about your thighs and legs spread generously at the edges of a crude wooden pole I managed to fasten cuffs to - how crafty am I?Quite. Crafty enough to trick that reddish tint to come about on your cheeks. Cunning enough to call forth that sweet nectar of anticipation to come flowing freely from "down there." A glimmering drop splashes onto the bed sheets. That's been going on for half an hour now, y'know? I'm sorry - I know you don't like getting your bed dirty,. In any case, it was unlikely he’d last very long until his passion was defeated by his inebriation. But this was their last night together for so many months and Astrid had been waiting for this moment for so many hours As she tended to the domestic duties of the hearth: spinning flax, gutting fish, and comforting young Hromund, she had wanted this moment of lovemaking to be special. When next would Thorvald cross the threshold and take his wife in his strong arms, carry her to their bed and. His absence had crystallized her need for him, and in a moment, she determined that she would give up all of the fantastic things she had seen over the past few days just tolay by his side forever. With anxious heart, Isabelle returned to the cove where she had met Aria three days before, perched upon the large flat rock, and waited… …and waited… And waited. Minutes dragged into hours, and as the sun slowly sank into the sea, Isabelle’s anxiety grew and her mind began to race. What could have.
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