1. "He's back," Lynet says shortly, putting down the pewter dishes she's washing as Gaheris pauses to lean on his axe. They've been living in exile for half a year now, and Mordred always comes to visit once a month.
Gaheris doesn't say anything. Mordred always stays for a week, and during that week he soothes them both, filling Lynet and then taking the harsh edge out of her anger when he withdraws, holding Gaheris in his hands and smoothing down the furrow of the madness that stretches like scars across his body. In return, they take their turns kissing and stroking down the hollow and bitter places in his heart, until all three of them are safe to come home and continue.
2. Little in their lives is spontaneous -- they keep a firm and attentively marked calendar, through which everything is determined, one event to the next. So the fact that they never compose any statement to one another that Jean should be included in their measured love-making is odd, Aouda thinks fleetingly, as she chooses colours for the new curtains. Even superfluous details should be clearly marked.
But somehow they decide upon it together without ever discussing it, and prepare for it without knowing when. And Jean, as he always does, works like the tiny gears in a pocketwatch, turning everything smoothly and cleanly and brightly, fitting together between them until she wonders how they were ever able to run so well before him.
3. "Upside down," Bossuet suggests, grinning.
"Don't be ridiculous. Making love upside down -- knowing you, you'll fall and break your head open and then poor Christian will catch some blood-borne illness and die," Musichetta says, with a disturbing show of understanding of how things go in their household. "We're perfectly nice the way we are."
Joly adds, "And no one is poisoning me with his unlucky brain tissues," and Bossuet, who can hardly think of witty, irritating comments to make anyway, buried as he is in beautiful 'Chetta, and Joly's clever fingers teasing his skin, nods agreeably, slipping his hand round Joly's cock and smiling at the gasp.
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Part 2 -- Others
Date: 2011-08-06 05:53 am (UTC)Gaheris doesn't say anything. Mordred always stays for a week, and during that week he soothes them both, filling Lynet and then taking the harsh edge out of her anger when he withdraws, holding Gaheris in his hands and smoothing down the furrow of the madness that stretches like scars across his body. In return, they take their turns kissing and stroking down the hollow and bitter places in his heart, until all three of them are safe to come home and continue.
2. Little in their lives is spontaneous -- they keep a firm and attentively marked calendar, through which everything is determined, one event to the next. So the fact that they never compose any statement to one another that Jean should be included in their measured love-making is odd, Aouda thinks fleetingly, as she chooses colours for the new curtains. Even superfluous details should be clearly marked.
But somehow they decide upon it together without ever discussing it, and prepare for it without knowing when. And Jean, as he always does, works like the tiny gears in a pocketwatch, turning everything smoothly and cleanly and brightly, fitting together between them until she wonders how they were ever able to run so well before him.
3. "Upside down," Bossuet suggests, grinning.
"Don't be ridiculous. Making love upside down -- knowing you, you'll fall and break your head open and then poor Christian will catch some blood-borne illness and die," Musichetta says, with a disturbing show of understanding of how things go in their household. "We're perfectly nice the way we are."
Joly adds, "And no one is poisoning me with his unlucky brain tissues," and Bossuet, who can hardly think of witty, irritating comments to make anyway, buried as he is in beautiful 'Chetta, and Joly's clever fingers teasing his skin, nods agreeably, slipping his hand round Joly's cock and smiling at the gasp.