Brynn's profile

“Leon! Hurry up dear, you know how bad it lookz to everyone when we are late.” “Josephine, how many timez muzt I tell you, I HATE it when you call me Leon!” Napoleon replied, as he re-adjusted his black silk scarf for the fourth time. “Tsk.” His wife flounced off. “Your scarf looks fine, you cannot even notice zee tear! Come now, we must be off.” Josephine huffed as she flung back a loose curl from her shoulder. Her flowing cream coloured ballroom gown glowed in the dim candlelight, as she c...

Burnished amber candlelight sways softly in pools of shadow, licking the heated darkness. The satin veil slips off her shoulders, dropping slowly to the floor. Her smooth ivory skin glows pure, her full breasts stand firm in anticipation. She sucks her perfect lip with coquettish pleasure, pulling it through her teeth. Her long wavy hair hangs loose and flowing down her back, caressing the top of her sensuous curves. Deep, liquid blue eyes study him; reclined on the bed, his muscular frame p...

Hot blood splashes over the carpet, white The gory mess a horrid sight. He sliced and carved, through carnal lust; Her bones and skin with every thrust. Breathing hard, he stands and smiles The taste of sweat, to him beguiles. Pretty blonde hair lays torn from her head, The silly young girl he'd lured to his bed. Harold stretches and scratches his wiry beard. Flicks off a piece of her bowel; smeared. His lust fulfilled and passion tamed, Steps over whats left of her body; maimed. He places he...

Ode To Scotland Misty moors and swells of heather, Thistle leaves as downy feathers. Soaring cliffs to bracken plains; Becalming so; the peaceful rains. Jagged firths and shadowed bows, A yearning in the soul aroused. Enticing winds through endless green; I've heard your whisper and I've seen. Grey shores with silkies on the sand. Great stags and boars enrich the land. Solemn cliffs as tri-masts sail. Atop the peaks yon pipers wail. Mysterious so, and filled with past Strong yet sure always s...

Ye Olde Western The sweltering sun beats a path on down Baking the desert to a crisp golden brown Sizzling sand crackles, mirages alight Not a breeze, not a movement, not before night Off in the distance, a dusty ol' town Grubby mill workers and Madams mill 'round Horse drawn carts and tumbleweeds alike Bank robbers, gun slingers, ready to fight A tavern, a blacksmith, the good ol' sheriff's place A real western town, its bar wenches in lace See the beggars and sellers, cowboys and such Wild ...