quadrāgintā

"What spell of nature is this?'

He had no idea who he had addressed that too. He didn't know what he was thinking anymore. His thoughts were no longer his.

He was becoming a pawn of what he used to be. He didn't know how to count the odds and identify with them. He was more than skeptical about what to do.

He wanted to give his best but there was nothing he could do. He was trying to make the zeal known but he was left with no choice.

He wanted to make his rage known of course but he was yet to figure out how he was supposed to go about it.

He didn't know what else he was supposed to do. He would try his best and try as much as possible to ignore her.

He didn't know if he was really found to ignore her. He didn't know if he was bold enough to do that.

He was hoping that his Instinct would swell in his own favor and he would be able to attain the height of what he would be able to identify with.

He needed that more than he needed anything. That was all that he did need of course.

The lady's hand on him was soft and tender. He never wanted her to leave him. He didn't know what she did want.

Of course he was already making meaning of all the things which were already happening to him. He didn't know if he was really doing his best in making the meaning known.

He didn't know if he was truly giving his best. He couldn't be sure of what or what not to be sure about.

He wasn't in for guesses. He didn't even know what he was thinking again. He didn't want to put up with his thoughts anymore.

He hoped that he would be able to sane and gather the informations he had been tossing aside. That was more than what he did need.

He knew what he would out up with. He was opining that time would test the odds and he would be able to register the pain.

He didn't even know if he would call that a pain or yet to attain pleasure. He had no idea what to call it. His instinct seemed to had forsaken him.

He didn't seem interested also. He was simply going to try his best. That was all that he was skilled at.

It did seem to him as though he was no longer a human. He didn't know what he was thinking.

He did wish that he could identify with the rage of what was coursing through his spines. He couldn't simply identify with the odds.

He was only trying his best. That was all that he could do. He didn't know if he would be able to steer clear of that and do what was more than that.

He didn't know if he would be able to attain what was more than elevated than that. He wasn't so sure about that.

It seemed to him as though he was no longer alive. He didn't know if that was true of course. Of course he knew that he was no longer living but that moment seemed as though twas a death in a death.

He didn't know how to identify with the odds. He knew that he was trying his best. He didn't know if that was enough. He couldn't be sure really.

He did want to be sure but couldn't put with it. He did hope that he would be identify his own strengths.

The lady dragged, pulled and led him to the berth. He wasn't wanting to stop moving.

His inner man wanted the fact to know. He didn't care what the fact would be. He didn't care what the fact would be.

He already did know what would happen. His Instinct seemed to had quit telling him lies. He didn't know if it had been telling him lies or vice versa.

He didn't want to know. There was an urgent business at hand. That was all which did marshalled his attention. He would figure out other things later.

She pushed him on the bed and climbed on him. She had her hands to his chest and slid them down till they were at the top of his shoulders.

He was trying to figure out what she would do. He knew what she was supposed to do. He would wait. She didn't keep him waiting of course.

He was more than glad about that.

She bent over him and brought her mouth closer to his. She felt her lips with hers and held unto them for so long. He didn't want her to take her mouth off.

He didn't want her to fight her mouth free. He was more than enjoying it.

She tasted like nectar. He did want to enjoy the rage of the pleasure. She plunged his mouth and ploughed it as though she was some ruthless bulldozer.

He couldn't be sane to be decisive. He didn't know what he was supposed to do at that moment. He did wish that he would be able to.

He was trying as much as possible. He did want to make his pleasure suit whatever had been cut out for it. He would try out his best of course. That did matter.

She yet held unto his lips. He didn't know what she was doing. He didn't actually care.

He was enjoying it. He was sucking the nectar of the gods from it. He couldn't had asked for a better sensation.

He did know that and would identify with that fact. She moved rhythmically over him till he began to quake within himself.

He wanted to hold her face and make her feel what he was but she didn't seem to care and he didn't seem to have the courage.

He didn't know what to put up with at that moment until a twist was supplanted.