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LittleSiss
Sorceress
OMG!
Barb ... I still ask myself, at times, why you ever asked me to help you write "A Day In The Arena" ... You spell bounded me with your fluid canter and rhythmical wonder.
Fair Maiden wiliest grace us all or have you done so in varied conscience????
Abstract or Concise?
I think it is what makes the thoughts and images present themselves.
Do not be unwet ... or is that ?????????? Unquiet?
Sing my sister, sing!!!!!!!!
You too, nut face!
Barb ... I still ask myself, at times, why you ever asked me to help you write "A Day In The Arena" ... You spell bounded me with your fluid canter and rhythmical wonder.
Fair Maiden wiliest grace us all or have you done so in varied conscience????
Abstract or Concise?
I think it is what makes the thoughts and images present themselves.
Do not be unwet ... or is that ?????????? Unquiet?
Sing my sister, sing!!!!!!!!
You too, nut face!
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/attachments/crucified-in-arena-jpg.179012/
...Siss keeps bring up that one night I got drunk on ' Slave Rebellion 2013' spiked whiskey...
...give me a break...
Tree
...Siss keeps bring up that one night I got drunk on ' Slave Rebellion 2013' spiked whiskey...
...give me a break...
Tree
LittleSiss
Sorceress
I'm sorry!
I just got really toasted tonite and DONT really care!
So
Tree has been known to do that...I'm sorry!
I just got really toasted tonite and DONT really care!
So
A warm blanket and a hot toddy...
"...I'll remove the cause...
...but not the symptoms..."
RHPS
Tree
OMG!
Barb ... I still ask myself, at times, why you ever asked me to help you write "A Day In The Arena" ... You spell bounded me with your fluid canter and rhythmical wonder.
Fair Maiden wiliest grace us all or have you done so in varied conscience????
Abstract or Concise?
I think it is what makes the thoughts and images present themselves.
View attachment 179005 View attachment 179006 View attachment 179008
View attachment 179010
View attachment 179012
Do not be unwet ... or is that ?????????? Unquiet?
Sing my sister, sing!!!!!!!!
You too, nut face!
I'm sorry!
I just got really toasted tonite and DONT really care!
So
I get on cf at midnite and come across this exchange ... Barb thinks she needs to tuck both of her friends in bed (separate ones of course
) and hope for the best by morning!!! 
Siss, asking you to help me write "A Day in the Arena" was one of the best things I ever did ... the start of something truly unique and wonderful ... the perfect merger of abstract and concise, tingles, gushes and poetic forever mores
Now let's see if the two of you can see straight enough to read this in the morning.... I sound like mother hen here, don't I....geeze.
Now back to PK with her thread.
P
Pia
Guest
Oooh - they are lovely..... I find it just too hard to choose which of the girls I would like to be!
So....that was an odd but rather sweetly entertaining diversion I think!
Oooh - they are lovely..... I find it just too hard to choose which of the girls I would like to be!
So....that was an odd but rather sweetly entertaining diversion I think!
Anything can happen on cf PK....I'll make apologies for all of us....
P
Pia
Guest
This is more what I imagined happening.....
This is more what I imagined happening.....
A tug and and a release, expelled breath, closed eyes......so tender, so sweet, so endearing....mmmmmm
S
shannonb100
Guest
In post 522, second picture, does any one know the name of the model on the left?OMG!
Barb ... I still ask myself, at times, why you ever asked me to help you write "A Day In The Arena" ... You spell bounded me with your fluid canter and rhythmical wonder.
Fair Maiden wiliest grace us all or have you done so in varied conscience????
Abstract or Concise?
I think it is what makes the thoughts and images present themselves.
View attachment 179005 View attachment 179006 View attachment 179008
View attachment 179010
View attachment 179012
Do not be unwet ... or is that ?????????? Unquiet?
Sing my sister, sing!!!!!!!!
You too, nut face!
P
Pia
Guest
Outside, Brangane pulls her shawl close to herself against the cold of the night. Far on the horizon a line of pink over the still water of the Baltic signals the coming dawn. She murmurs to herself, urging the lovers to waken, to make their escape, feeling the presence of fear as the night melts away into the dawn.
Gisela, eyes half open, half closed, runs a finger slowly over Tristana’s brow, stroking down the softness of her cheek to where the solitary pink pearl lies, half-buried in a sea of black curls; stroking down to the corner of her mouth; parting her lips, sliding inside, finding the wetness of her tongue. With two fingers now damply tracing the curve of her neck, seeking out the warmth of her gently rising breasts; with infinite patience touching, so gently, drawing the quietest moan from her lover. Reaching lower, feeling, sensing. Her body responding, rolling, reaching. Two faces joining; two bodies joined in the grey half-light of the dying night.
There’s a noise. Footfalls on the boards of the bathing station. Brangane stirs, hidden in the shadows. The sky turning a vivid crimson, shimmering on the swell as it rolls silently onto the whiteness of the strand. She looks from the safety of her shawl. Melot! And behind him, five paces behind him, following him, Markus!
Too late to give a warning. Too late to save her friends.
A door pulled ajar, a lamp shines in. Words quickly exchanged. A finger pointed. Tristana stirs, pulling the single sheet close, fright in her eyes; clinging to Gisela, retreating into the darkness of their corner.
“Master Markus! Was I right to accuse her? Look! See!”
The torch fills the corner with a yellow glow. The girls recoil in the sudden brightness.
“What am I seeing? What am I seeing? Is it you I see cous? You, my sister? You who brought her here to me? You who I’ve grown up with? You who I trust? Is it you? With her? With my Gisela? Is it? How can I be so betrayed!!! Get up! Get up! Both of you! Get up! What shame! Tristana!!! How could you! What shame!”
The girls stand, wrapped tightly together in their white shroud.
“Why Tristana? Why? How could you do this to me? My honour! Why Tristana?”
“Oh Markus, cousin Markus, I cannot tell you that. What you would ask you can never know.”
“You both! Both! Dress! Dress now! Tristana, I will speak with you outside. Gisela, I do not understand this Gisela…. I am saddened sweet Gisela. Tristana! Outside now!”
Tristana leans her dark hair, her pearl of black, her pearl of pink, onto Gisela’s breast, whispering almost silently.
“Will you come with me Gisela? Will you follow me?”
Gisela raises Tristana’s face to her own.
“Always my love; wherever you go my love. Eternally.”
They kiss. Once.
Gisela, eyes half open, half closed, runs a finger slowly over Tristana’s brow, stroking down the softness of her cheek to where the solitary pink pearl lies, half-buried in a sea of black curls; stroking down to the corner of her mouth; parting her lips, sliding inside, finding the wetness of her tongue. With two fingers now damply tracing the curve of her neck, seeking out the warmth of her gently rising breasts; with infinite patience touching, so gently, drawing the quietest moan from her lover. Reaching lower, feeling, sensing. Her body responding, rolling, reaching. Two faces joining; two bodies joined in the grey half-light of the dying night.
There’s a noise. Footfalls on the boards of the bathing station. Brangane stirs, hidden in the shadows. The sky turning a vivid crimson, shimmering on the swell as it rolls silently onto the whiteness of the strand. She looks from the safety of her shawl. Melot! And behind him, five paces behind him, following him, Markus!
Too late to give a warning. Too late to save her friends.
A door pulled ajar, a lamp shines in. Words quickly exchanged. A finger pointed. Tristana stirs, pulling the single sheet close, fright in her eyes; clinging to Gisela, retreating into the darkness of their corner.
“Master Markus! Was I right to accuse her? Look! See!”
The torch fills the corner with a yellow glow. The girls recoil in the sudden brightness.
“What am I seeing? What am I seeing? Is it you I see cous? You, my sister? You who brought her here to me? You who I’ve grown up with? You who I trust? Is it you? With her? With my Gisela? Is it? How can I be so betrayed!!! Get up! Get up! Both of you! Get up! What shame! Tristana!!! How could you! What shame!”
The girls stand, wrapped tightly together in their white shroud.
“Why Tristana? Why? How could you do this to me? My honour! Why Tristana?”
“Oh Markus, cousin Markus, I cannot tell you that. What you would ask you can never know.”
“You both! Both! Dress! Dress now! Tristana, I will speak with you outside. Gisela, I do not understand this Gisela…. I am saddened sweet Gisela. Tristana! Outside now!”
Tristana leans her dark hair, her pearl of black, her pearl of pink, onto Gisela’s breast, whispering almost silently.
“Will you come with me Gisela? Will you follow me?”
Gisela raises Tristana’s face to her own.
“Always my love; wherever you go my love. Eternally.”
They kiss. Once.
P
Pia
Guest
Farewell sweet night....
don't tell me you are stopping there!!!Farewell sweet night....
P
Pia
Guest
It's a story in 3 acts.... We're just at the end of Act II... The real action is yet to come
...you had me worried!!! I thought I was going to have to beat an ending out of you!!!It's a story in 3 acts.... We're just at the end of Act II... The real action is yet to come
Tree
P
Pia
Guest
That would be alright by me if you'd like.... I think it might be nice....
Why did this not surprise me????
P
Pia
Guest
Tee hee....
...now on with the story PK 