I've noticed that things are often done just a little bit different in the UK than in the states. Our Thursday writer Ben, has decided to continue that theme. Welcome to the world of steam punk! Where airships rule, and mechanical devices are the coolest gadgets. No matter what reality you land in, the steam always rises when people are in close proximity.
Eliza felt her hands tracing the familiar steps she was taught, caressing her nipples through the soft linen shirt following the pattern, across her tummy and her thighs cupping her sex and searching through the firy heat for the nub, the symbol of HIS presence and she gasped as her nails raked across it, missing the comforting weight of the young nun’s hand, she moved faster and it was less controlled as she raked her fingers across her slit. Her back arching, her breeches down in a tangle by her feet as she exploded, asking, begging, calling for her god to send an angel to spear her as he did St. Theresa; gasping and exploding filled with his energy, his love.
She slid down into the pillows exhausted, given of her body all to her pleasure what she was taught was for her god. Sleeping, resting safe and loved she lay, blood dripping slowly, unknown to any man.