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(3 Cigarettes | Light me one..)

Erotic Email Exchange ?? [01 Dec 2008|12:36pm]



This Male enjoys exchanging erotic emails with literate women, perhaps such as yourself for role-play purposes. Someone who knows something about grammar, and punctuation. I'm not looking for a slam-bam thank-you ma'am type of exchange, but rather lengthy, detailed chapters to a story we write together, using ourselves as primary characters. A role-play scenario where we can be whomever we want, any age we want, any size we want, any race we want. I have no desire to meet, IM/PM, exchange photos or chat via telephone. Together we can write a story, each submitting subsequent chapters.


Who would you like to be?


Perhaps the horny trophy wife whose much older husband provides for you financially but not sexually. As a result, you set your sights on the teenage boy who mows your lawn, wondering if he can provide the services your husband doesn't...


Are you a secretary who daily pushes the envelope of what is and isn't proper office attire, hoping your boss will ask you to close the door behind you and take dick-tation. Perhaps bending over at the file cabinet in your tight skirts, stockings and heels has finally paid off...


Maybe you are a massage therapist who realizes that if you modify your attire your tips will increase. You also decide it will help to use more than your hands to make sure your male clients leave your studio fully released from stress, rid of all their pent-up stiffness, doing whatever it takes to assure all of his hard muscles are relieved...


Are you the schoolgirl who wishes the mature, widowed man next door would teach you all the things you aren't learning in school. Now that your breasts are beginning to bud and your hips flair, you've taken to leaving your bedroom drapes open 24/7 hoping he will notice, trying to decide if you should seduce him, or would you rather he be the aggressor and perhaps 'take you'...


No doubt you've got ideas of your own, which I would gladly consider.


Who would you like to be ???

(Light me one..)

[10 Feb 2005|10:35pm]

Going after him was a slip of the tongue, and a fair understatement. It hadn't taken more than a brush of few seconds before Aubrey was gracefully ahead of him, waiting every so patiently for the mortal's frenzied approach. He hadn't any intention to kill that evening, but if the human failed to stop in his retreat.. Well, things could become ugly.

Fortunately for either party, the panicked male did come to a sudden halt as his gaze briefly studied his associate, performing a silent prayer that his eyes were indeed betraying him. And yet as ethereal fiend displayed a casual, nonchalant composure, he staggered from his feet and fell into the structure nearby. Sliding against the granite, he breathed heavily, eyes wide with fascination and evident fear.

"David," Aubrey stated, tone iced with venom. "Strange to see you running around at these hours." The youth labeled 'David' inhaled sharply, as though the air frigid and thick with fog. But his gaze never faltered, though he avoided meeting his company's eyes, in fear that though the Master's touch was upon him, his mind could still be clouded.

"Just let me be, Aubrey," David whined, then flinched as the other became undesirably close. Even though eye contact had failed to be made, he had still moved with a fluently that was difficult to follow. "... You cannot kill me! The Master will know; She will hunt you if you kill me!" Swiftly, he gave the meek mortal a light kick, not all amused by the slight distance he managed to parade him across the sidewalk. Hands tucked evenly in his pockets, he approached the motionless figure now seated upon the cement.

"Your Master, David. Simply your's. Do not lump me with your pathetic riff raff collection; I'm not amused, and I'm being followed. So why don't you give me the damn information we agreed upon and I'll be on my way. Or do I have to rip your throat out and feed you to the hounds of Hell?" It wasn't a speech he enjoyed giving, though it apparently did it's job as the male grasped his pant-leg, forehead bowed against the denim; It was a plea for mercy.

One that would be dutifully ignored if he went unanswered.

(Light me one..)

[11 Feb 2005|01:24am]

The young woman seemed to react very scarcely to the disturbance, the wind from the explosion breezing through her short locks as she finished the task of loading her weapon. Her grin faded into something of a smirk as she twirled the weapon on her finger with an unerring amount of skill. She then holstered the weapon at her left leg, the butt of the grip pointing forward as she stepped up beside Aubrey, eyeing him up curiously.

It was true, she was never really one to care much for the goings on of mortal folks, despite the fact that she, herself, was still quite mortal. Though there was always something so undeniably fascinating about the minions of darkness. She supposed for a brief moment that this is why she was here, why she had even become a hunter. It didn't really matter, though.

The sight of those scrambling to the now brightly burning club induced her gag reflex quicker than she thought possible as he glanced away from Aubrey and down toward a said particular human, "Mmm.. see him, too, eh? Heh. Not the talkative type, I see." Were the vampire to actually take any particular note of her, he'd likely recognize her, or at least her weaponry from local urban myth. She hadn't built much of a reputation, thankfully, as a slayer for hire, but it seemed all the right people knew who she was these days.

"Not thinking of going after him, are you? Hm, you're just full of poor decisions tonight." she said, an overly jesting tone taking her voice as she brought a hand up to swipe away a lock of hair from her eyes.

(Light me one..)

[10 Feb 2005|09:57pm]

Faintly oblivious to his sudden company, Aubrey pulled himself from the crouch, arms folded thoughtfully over his sound chest. It was more of an itch toward the back of his mind which detected the watchful gaze of another, but he found himself far too mesmerized by the activity below to take full notice; The few hundred years beneath his belt allowed him the stealth and agility to avoid most attacks, make note of that, most, but there had been a few awkward moments at which he had fallen victim to a possibly lethal blow.

But he had been young and faithless in that time; It was a much different melody these days. The breeze rustled restlessly against the increasing commotion below along the street, the petty mortals' excitement accumulating with the passing moment. Access to the Common Underground was strictly invite only, yet it seemed to be bubbling busily... Maybe membership was the on-going rage.

The thought rested heavily in his stomach, and it just tasted too sour for his satisfaction. But gradually, he was becoming more aware of a nearby individual, and less concerned about the damned souls retreating into Lucifer's Lair. Yet just as he was ready to abandon the chase and turn his attention elsewhere, a thick explosion rocked the region, the building shuddering beneath the filthy heat of an inferno's seduction.

Aubrey retreated a short gathering of steps, though kept his empty gaze upon the building. The distressed screams of the mortals inside, as well as those of the undead trapped within the flamed cage, licked the heavens with an unruly volume. Already, flocks of death-intrigued mortals and immortals alike surrounded the sidewalks, dumb-struck by the sudden tragedy. But those of better judgment were rushing forth to give help to those locked within, having decided to gamble their lives for an opportunity to play hero.

".. Stupid," he murmured, and turned away as a touch of movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. From the sight of flaming horrors fled an individual, their figure hardly visible in the darkness. Guilt painted their entire aura; And better yet, it was human, though a servant at that.

Expression giving way to a nearly cruel smile, he chose to give chase. It seemed it hadn't been a rumor after all, the air positively reeked of the city's Master's corruption. Joy.

(Light me one..)

[11 Feb 2005|12:39am]

Slinking up in a most sultry manner, the nearby vampire would more than likely sense her presence as she approached. Her movements swift and smooth, she finds herself staring down at the club, not far from where Aubrey stands.

"Some fancy-to-do down there, tonight, eh?" jeers the young woman. Upon observation, she was much closer to the vampire than, perhaps, he would have thought. She stands, clad in a sleeveless leather shirt which zips up to her neck. Not dissimilar from the leather pants which cling to her lean frame and come to rest over black, steel-lipped boots. Cropped, straight black hair falls shortly about her face and head, framing thin green eyes and chiselled features. Loose belts drape about her hips, holding a number of small ammunition pouches. Diagonally at the back of one rests a holster holding a rather florid revolver sporting a long barrel and an ivory grip facing toward her left. The other belt totes a similar holster attached to her left leg. Another revolver, identical to the holstered one, rests in her gloved hands.

A sly grin graces her expression as he slides a silver bullet into one of the open chambers of her gun, not appearing to pay much attention to the vampire present as she does. She casts a sidelong glance to him, away from the club far below as her grin grows slightly, "Not thinking of going down there, are we? That'd be an awful career move, I'll wager."

(Light me one..)

Thus, it begins [10 Feb 2005|08:09pm]

The night was composed by the heavy chambers of midnight, a cool breeze rolling through the district. Clubs lined the streets, displaying neon signs and glowing lights from their dark, dangerous depths. People were breathless, lined against the brick walls, nervously chattering and laughing, their fingers fisted into tight balls.

The decaying scent of blood was in the air, on the streets. But that's what drew so many to the area; it was the dawn of the dead. Vampires, zombies, lycanthropes. You name it, it existed. And for a peculiar reason or another, people got their kicks from playing victim at these clubs.. Though none were all too deadly as a real encounter.

Aubrey wasn't impressed. He hardly ever was. But the disgusting display of the undead playing pawn to human money was hardly his idea of amusement - not that he could necessarily complain. He had succumbed a few times in a nearby club as a common strip toy to the enjoyment of some stupid, flustered mortal.

Thick, onyx tresses fell against the pale flesh of his face, the tendrils cropped at various, short layered lengths. Gaze a penetrating blue, his firm figure stood crouched upon a nearby building. Resembling a male nothing short of twenty, nearly six feet tall, and of slender, but built frame, he had been a perfect candidate for a modeling career, had he not ripped the throat out of the representative. Women tend to believe that if they bat their eyelashes enough and pout their pretty lips, he'd fall for them like a rock through water. But he was crystalized. The only rock going through him was a silver bullet; and that'd only manage to slow him down.

Dressed casually in a short sleeve, denim button up, he wore a random signature black shirt beneath, jeans a matching hue to his top. Even in daylight hours, he could pass as human, if he avoided smiling to broadly. But he wasn't one of the new dead; After a few years of suggested immortality, one became familiar with the common tricks of the road. But maybe it was his pretty face that allowed others to ignore the airiness of power around him.

Aubrey didn't rightly care. But what did concern him was the action below. He wasn't necessarily interested in the people entering the club, the Common Underground to be exact, but rather the events that would occur. Rumor had it murder was about. Someone was planning a mass massacre, that someone being a string to the Master of the city. And though it was unlikely and probably only a slip of the tongue, he had been drawn to the location none-the-less.

But whether or not he'd choose to stop the event was another thing entirely.

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