(no subject)
Do you know how I think of sex? I imagine myself like a viola, and the man a bow... Playing my body (hopefully with some expertise), by gracefully cradling the instrument in his arms, and shifting it to aid the production of music. He uses his sceptre on the strings, transforming it to an artist's tool, a wand, rather than a blunt, ornate show of status or masculintiy. The rhythm in the pair's movements, the harmonies created by stroking the strings, and their responsive vibration... all with careful deliberation to create the most beautiful, powerful, and perceivedly effortless songs.
This thought of precision, practice, and grace is what drives tinglies into my pelvis. The imagery of music arises in fantasy... Now only, to write the score..
This thought of precision, practice, and grace is what drives tinglies into my pelvis. The imagery of music arises in fantasy... Now only, to write the score..