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Name: Erica | Gender: woman- hear me roar! | Posts: 2,032 | Roses: 181
Old 05-11-2011 at 02:49 AM

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Does anyone write anymore?

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Roaming Dungeons
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 Post [41] »

Toddy St. James

Little Mister Sherlock made Toddy St. James and his maniac pause. In fact, he made a lot of things pause. Because, Damien was now turning this into some sort of, eye gazing fest. No, this was suppose to be the part where after delivering his fierce and sassy speech, Damien storms out, or whatever his next diva-like tantrum would consist of. Shouldn't he be off, ruining Toddy St. James life some more? First off, he would appreciate if the tainted evil sweet cheeks would actually look at his eyes-

But then Toddy St. James realized. This was something else right now. It did not take a sexual diva expert to know that Damien was so checking him out right now. Then, Toddy realized how close they were. He realized his eyes were hooked on his plump lips- thanks to his new lip plumper gloss, Venom. He was taken back, but that did not mean Toddy St. James was backing up anywhere. Oh, no. He was frustrated sexually more than anyone in Paris. He was going to milk this for all his worth. Even if the little peanut had plots to put Toddy in shackles. Now Toddy understood that he really did want to handcuff him, but, you know- under his law enforcement.

Toddy St. James gaydar was never wrong. He invented it.


Damien's finger touched up against Toddy's lips. He parted them, his body almost jolting- because, it had been such a long time. He parted his lips, and pouted them out slightly for the sexy effect. Well, did he ever have the moves? But, Toddy St. James could not stop not breathing really fast. This was just, catching him off guard. See that? Little Miss fiancee, aint' got nothing on this Saint.

“What on earth gave you that idea?”

Toddy St. James stared into his eyes, letting out a pur of a laugh.

"Are you going to finger them all day-"

With a snap of a body jolt, Toddy St. James broke from his finger, and made his way literally, so his lips were brushing up against his. There was not even a little air to breath between their lips except the air they blew out from their lips. Toddy felt sparks, felt the need, and felt hungry.

"Or are you going to start touching with your lips?"

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Name: Cassie | Gender: Señorita | Posts: 4,083 | Roses: 185
Old 05-11-2011 at 04:07 AM
Mrs Nadir Khan
Wandering Child
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Slave to my Inspiration

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Roaming Dungeons
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 Post [42] »

Damien Blackwood-Michaud

No one has to know, part of Damien said. Not Ashton. Not Mum. Not Dad. Not even Bill.

But Damien didn’t trust Toddy St. James very much. He didn’t even like him, really. Damien just wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the come on. In a few months time, Damien would be a married man. Experimenting would have to stop by then. He’d have to know where he stood and it would have to be at Ashton’s side. He’d have to have his heart settled on Ashton Greene for the rest of eternity—and his eyes and his hand and his lips and… It was a big commitment. A huge commitment, even. Damien wasn’t ready for that. He was twenty-three years old. He wanted—needed—to enjoy it. His mum wanted him married off to the right girl. His dad had always waxed elegance about the family legacy like they were some bloody dynasty of winemaking royalty. Ashton didn’t deserve an unfaithful and confused husband. And Toddy was just there. Logic said that Damien should not be tempted to kiss him.

Frustration said otherwise.

Damien was engaged to Ashton Greene, a girl who he liked, maybe loved, but didn’t love. She was a friend and kissing her was like kissing a sister or something. Chaste, tender, never desirous. He had a lover back home… technically. Criss Brocklehurst was angry with Damien, though, and had been for a long time. It wouldn’t surprise Damien if, when he returned to London, he found their apartment empty and his stuff in boxes at his mum’s with a note saying, “Thanks for nothing, sweetheart. – C” scribbled in Sharpie marker on one of the boxes. In Paris, Damien had his best friend. He had his dad. He had his fiancée. But he was desperately lonely. Toddy laughed, breath tickling Damien’s fingers and a sharp pang reminded him again just how much loneliness could hurt.

"Are you going to finger them all day,” Toddy purred. He batted away Damien’s fingers and moved in closer so that their lips brushed. "Or are you going to start touching with your lips?"

Damien laughed weakly. Their lips touched, but scarcely enough to be called a kiss. Damien jolted backwards before it crossed the line and stared at Toddy with a strange, lopsided look. He didn’t like the way this near stranger made him feel. Angry, hot, flustered… It didn’t sit right with Damien. Kissing him would mean Toddy won. Damien didn’t like to lose. Kissing him would mean Damien would have a lot of explaining to do to half the people in his life. He wasn’t ready to talk.

“I don’t have all day,” he said, straightening his jacket. “And neither do you. Rumor has it that your boss wants to have a little chat with you. Something about not impersonating him to pick up blokes. Good luck with that. ”

And for the second time in a week, Damien started for the exit of the Moulin Rouge without looking back.
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