Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, Stray lower, to where the pleasant fountains lie, And if those founts be dry, stray lower yet, For moist with heaven's dew the valleys sigh
Your founts ne'er will be dry and lower yet, your valleys ere will be in gushing spate. The sighs I hear will be in fullness deep requited. For the one to whom that I so want to graze upon my lips, stray lower still for I am moist with heaven's dew and my valleys are sighing so......................................................................................................................................................






If you feel a little tingle here, it means you're susceptible to candor, that's the richest gift of any conversationalist. ......................................................................................




Love is not a feeling. Love is an action, an activity... Genuine love implies commitment and the exercise of wisdom... love as the will to extend oneself for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth... true love is an act of will that often transcends ephemeral feelings of love or cathexis, it is correct to say, 'Love is as love does'. Scott Peck, The Road Less Travelled




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It is always a Ninja Catwoman Day!! .........................................................................................................................................................


I have a blog www.pinkseachele.com it is only for the truly brave and open-minded though..........................................................................................................................................





I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly under the lashes. The girl went on her knees, and bent over me, simply gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed to fasten on my throat. Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound of her tongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and I could feel the hot breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer, nearer. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the super sensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in languorous ecstasy and waited, waited with beating heart.

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Kýrie mou, sas ef̱charistó̱ gia ti̱n év̱resi̱ kryfó̱n epithymió̱n mou kai to pnév̱ma mou epitrépei na zo̱ntanépsei kai páli.................................................................................








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