DGM Dressing Room Kink Meme!
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Comments 159
Millennium Earl orgy. Go.
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"Is that your Innocence poking me, Adam? ♥" Eve was too busy reaching over the couch for the dropped bottle of whipped cream to check.
"Oh no, not remotely. ♥" The Earl, the Noah one, wrapped a arm around Eve's hips. "He and the other Earl ♥ went to get more butterscotch. ♥"
"We're out already? ♥" Eve tsked, hooking the whipped cream as she was pulled back and wiggling. "We still have the chocolate sauce don't we~♥?"
"Just enough. ♥" The Exorcist leaned over the couch to trade the whipped cream in Eve's hands for a jar of warm butterscotch.
"You two returned quickly. ♥ Did you get everything?"
"Oh yes. ♥" The stork Earl produced the neglected chocolate sauce. "Now where were we? ♥"
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"I'll make you forget."
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Bird was propped up on her elbow, the murky white sheets falling off her body as she stared down at the other woman beside her, asleep. The once-Noah watched, her finger trailing lazily over the curves of the redhead's cheek. Not even a stir. Her peaceful expression, something that only a dreamless sleep could bring out, helped ease the heavy feeling on her heart just a little.
"I'll make you forget." Words replayed in her mind over and over again; a broken record. The one face accompanied it and she knew it would haunt her in the darker recesses of her mind.
"...Can you?"
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Bonus: Must be in a car.
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reCaptcha: gallant beyond
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Recaptcha: Seize District
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"What exactly do you see that makes you so bound and determined humans are going to change?"
"Everything you're not seeing, even in yourself."
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"What exactly do you see that makes you so bound and determined humans are going to change?"
The question comes as a surprise, in the dim of the room, and with the candles still cooling and the sweat drying on her skin, Allison glances over. Even in the dark she can still see the outline of a pretty face, familiar features, and yet different, somehow. He lays on his back with his hands behind his head, the silhouette of dusky cigarette smoke curling up towards the ceiling, swallowed by the darkness, where the bits of light fail to reach, or perhaps don’t dare to. There’s mystery in that darkness, and he seems to be studying it, perhaps trying to determine the answer to the question on his own.
She shifts onto her side and lays her head against his bare chest. It’s not nearly the same, is it? But she doesn’t despair, not outwardly; that’s just not what she does, and wouldn’t he be disappointed if she did? Not the one next to her, but the one who shares ( ... )
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