"Come in my queen.."      He knew that that was far from what he had in mind. He knew that he didn't mean to say that. He knew that all he wanted to say was a stray of that. He knew that he was feeling the need to kill her. He knew that he wanted to toss her head to the gloom. He knew that he would love to toss her head to gaunt gloom. She had no idea how hideous he was feeling. He was like on a spot and needed something urgent to do. He was biding his time. He knew what he was going to make of her. He knew that sooner or later he would be lent a rusty rage and he would obviously squash her. He knew that time would be promiscuous. He knew what time was capable of doing. He was acquainted with it. He had known from the scratch of time. He had been dealing with such feelings and would continue doing that. His feelings were raged. He was counting the dice he would toss. He was yet to make a decision. He knew he wo

      "Come come... You have it."        She dragged closer. He was sieving his options. He was very conscious of the odds. He was making his odds known. He couldn't hide it any longer. He couldn't feign any longer. He couldn't toss his rage aside. But all he could he yet do at that moment was disguise. He could even do more than that. He was glad that he would attain the heights he had craved for all  his life. He was glad that he was close to the completion of all. He was glad that he would have to put a stop to all the odds. He was glad that he wouldn't have to keep putting up with things of odd stances. He was glad that his marred motives had been moistened and he was going to reap what he had scarcely sown. He didn't know what comparison he was supposed to make. He had no idea what he was supposed to think of course, but he was making effort. That was all he could do. He could feel the rays of t

    "Harder"       He wants her to loose her consciousness. He wanted her to plead. He wanted her to loose her focus that he might have his way. He couldn't think better. He was trying to sort his thoughts. He was trying as hard as possible to put things together. He needed a scene to hold. She was driving him crazy. He could put up with that for the meantime. He couldn't really be sure. He wanted to be. He wanted her to be so engrossed. He wanted her to be so given. He wanted her to be so in. Then he would unleash his Mayhem. That was all that he had written in the diary. That was all that he wanted to do. But the more he did try it out, the clueless he was. He would keep trying. He would keep pushing. He grasped her boobs and squeezed them ruthlessly. He wanted her to feel what he was feeling. He put his mouth to them and sucked. He bit the nipples gently. He didn't want to stir her, yet h

     "You should be more conscious sometimes."       He knew that he heard churning chuckles over that. He wanted to believe that he did have some hearing impairment. He didn't know if he was sane to be wishing himself such thing. What was the so called Poseidon feeling like? What was the stance he was assuming? What was the plague he did think that he could cast. He wasn't so sure. He didn't want to be. He was only hoping that his thought was accurate. He was hoping that exactly what he did have in mind was what was actually happening. He didn't know why he was feeling that. He didn't know why he was wanting to feel like that. He didn't know why he should take delight in that. He didn't know why he should have his rage tucked. He knew that his instinct might be feeding him biles. He didn't know what to believe. He did prefer to tell himself a lanky lie than to believe that Poseidon was making fun of him. He d

      "I should be in a trance."       He could say that over and over again. He should of course be in a trance. If he wasn't in a trance, then he should probably be walking through the aisle of Fantasy. He didn't know what to process. He didn't know what to believe. He was trying as much as possible for his instinct to register the new deal. He didn't know why twas reluctant. He didn't know why twas being indifferent. He didn't know why twas being offensive. He was trying as much as possible not to take offence. He didn't want to. There was no reason he should. He didn't know if that was true. He was only trying to ignore the feeling. He was only trying to figure out what was odd. He was only trying to reshape the foils and be able to stand on the feet of his rage. He didn't know what to feel anymore. He was only a sojourner in the land of his thoughts. He would take his time to be there for a while. He