Journal No 9

6 January
O Captain, My Captain~

Another year has gone, new replaces the old. Time passes on and dreams age. Past memory brushes along my mind with gossamer threads. To try and force them to the surface renders them into nothing.
Memories need to percolate, to rise naturally to the forward thoughts. Sometimes memories take the place of dreams So I dream. Dark cities, dirty and wet. Strange colours glow, pulsing in the darkness. A white haired woman sits surrounded by books behind a dirty pane of glass. Dream time shifts, and the scene changes as is the nature of such things. I hear the sound of wings and the cawing of ravens and I find myself awake, blinking at the ceiling. Don't let me bore you with the phantoms of my mind. I will ramble on and on about the oddest of things.
The new year was brought in with style with free drinks from the Wild man, and a rounds of fisticuffs over at the Cockpit. Thank you kindly for escorting me to the fights. I enjoy gambling and my luck that night payed out more than I lost. Miss Amber even challenged Mister Hastings to a round, she gave a worthy effort, but Mister hastings came out the winner. All hope was not lost as Miss Rhona then challenged Hastings. If I were ever to give advice on who to bet upon, one would do well to wager their coin on Miss Rhona. The night ended with a a bit of a free for all as Miss Amber, Miss Adahila and Mister McCool went in for a grand tussle.
The Mines seem to have been reopened and the man responsible for the upset was taken into custody. Unfortunately Mister Porter escaped from the Mortchester prison. (I have enclosed the latest articles as a bit of interest). To make matters curiouser a man was found hanging from Magdalene's tower. Let me tell you, I have never seen so much interest in a corpse. I know we and another party had..interest in the body, but the Romantics seemed to keep the church well guarded. I tried in vain to lead a few away in search for my lost cat, Ulthar but to no avail. Later on I heard that a few gentlemen from the village removed the body and gave it a proper burial on church grounds. My only question on the matter is this: if Mister Porter committed suicide why was he buried in hallowed ground. If his death was not by his own hand, it seems rather hasty to inter a body without through investigation.


X~ Manor, personal chambers
In the still of the night I felt your fingers trail through my hair as you leaned down, tracing the line of flesh from shoulders to wrist, and then back again. Stating plainly that I had been wined, dinned, drugged, toured about and pampered. You spoke with such calmness when you asked if there was anything else I desired. Your palm open, fingers outstretched. The opening move to a complected dance. I smiled as I placed my fingers alongside yours stepping closer, allowing you to pull me in deeper and letting myself fall down that rabbit hole. You leaned towards me with a creepingly slow manner, your eyes focused on mine, catching every flicker, every flinch of excitement. As you stepped so close my sight began to blur as I felt your hands slip across my body, squeezing, teasing. My breath began to quicken and my pulse raced beneath my skin. I I pushed back, pressing the line of my body against yours. My flesh lighting up with a flood of sensation when your fingers touched. Suddenly clothing seemed to be too much fabric, too much cloth. Tugging feverishly at ties and laces until a pool of fabric puddled around my feet. My skin ached, I ached for your touch. I may have moaned against you, running my fingers lightly across your arm before trying to tug you towards the couch. I did not expect you to be quicker than me and was wickedly surprised when you grabbed my hips and pushed me against a hard eager cock. I heard you groan in pleasure as you bucked against me, encouraging me to ride you. Digging my nails into the cushions as I rocked my hips against the hard length of you. The force was enough to jostle and bounce my breasts with each thrust as I worked against you. Building my own need for release I gave another low moan of pleasure. You grabbed my bouncing breasts and played with them skillfully, using them to guide my thrusts Your pumps began to quicken and with such force that the couch made a creaking sound. You felt warm and energized as you sped up the furious wild fuck.
The minutes crested onward until I was flinging sweat drops from my body. Every time I shuddered with orgasm you would slow only to start ravaging me again I felt the stars explode from behind my eyes as I came. I panted, my legs feeling like water as I pushed myself off of you and towards the floor. The briefest of concern for the couch touched my mind before pushing the thought away.
My world swam in a hedonistic rush. Lowering my upper torso as I arched my pelvis towards you, encouragingly. You followed me onto floor with an eager and playful pursuit, first catching a thick lock of my hair and taking hold of my head firmly. Pulling back strongly as your other palm landed on my ass. Thrusting into my pulsing cunt. You pushed hard once to stabilize my pose and then began pounding me wildly and quickly enough that a wet smack could be overheard along with my panting. The effects working along my senses sparking me to a peak of drugged pleasure, barely coherent enough to be heard begging to be done harder. The sex mingled with my high, increasing my arousal You quickened your pace yet again pace with an already considerably thickened shaft. With variety and tempo change you slammed into me sometimes giving her hip twists and back dips to overload my already ringing muff. Seizing my hair again with the free hand while you rode my quivering body until it was literally stunned into still spells and quakes and my pleads melting into yelps and moans.
I collapsed hard against the floor as I came, colors flashing behind my eyes at the strength of it all. My body convulsed with what I would only describe as aftershocks from orgasm. I let out a small whimper as every nerve ending seemed to crackled from over stimulation. You waited until my breathing slowed a bit before picking up my limp frame, setting me gently on the couch. You eased on your pants and brought my glass pipe over ready for a fresh hit..placing it carefully in my cleavage. I sighed as I took the pipe, taking a long hit off the pipe and coughed, waving half heartedly at the smoke in front of me before passing completely out.
Angeline~