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Everything posted by Mystic

  1. Celebration Thread

    Best quote of 2014 so far. +1 Intarwebz
  2. Celebration Thread

    I'll definitely read it. For spelling and grammatical errors, of course.
  3. Mystic's Lack of Creative Talent

    Oi, Miss Mishal:
  4. Zombie Apocalypse Weapon of Choice

    A body pillow. So if any zombies would like to spoon...
  5. Celebration Thread

    shelmii reads it!
  6. You have tons of profile views. I wonder why.

  7. Mystic's Lack of Creative Talent

    Here you are, Miss Mishal:
  8. Hi, me llamo Phreshaer.

  9. Ahoy!

    Yo! Welcome to Surreality!
  10. Psychedelic Space Lounge

    Both. At the same time.
  11. Fairy Tales For Sophie

    Peter drove the car as he half heartedly listened to his daughter speak, one hand on the wheel while the fingers on the other covered his mouth; he was deep in thought, an array of topics being sorted out one by one. He glanced at his daughter in the back seat through the rear view mirror, before returning his eyes to the road; she was understandably very excited about the birthday party tomorrow, but he was noticeably much less enthusiastic. "We're going to get Katie's present right now, and after we get something to eat, I'm dropping you off at her place to stay the night," Peter said quietly. They rode in silence as Peter piloted the vehicle towards the toy store. ----- "Ok sweetie, this is your territory--I'm following you; pick out whatever you want to get for Katie and we'll get it." He stood at the entrance of the toy store, the warehouse-sized fun zone devoid of much life as this Friday afternoon seemed quite slow in the eay of traffic. With Sophie's hand in his, he led them into the mouth of the store, awaiting the moment his daughter would break away to grab the prettiest, shiniest item for her friend.
  12. Hi Nervous I'm Dad

    Well. That was a unique entrance. Welcome to Surreality!
  13. Psychedelic Space Lounge

    It's time to replay The Last of Us. My body and box of Kleenex is ready.

    Here's a throwback. It's been three years.
  15. Mystic's Lack of Creative Talent

  16. Mystic's Lack of Creative Talent

  17. Mystic's Lack of Creative Talent

  18. Fairy Tales For Sophie

    Peter awoke with a start, his body jolting him instinctively into the land of the living; his eyes swept hastily down to his wrist, where his watch calmed his fears that he was running late. He still had some time before he would have to go pick Sophie up from school. Groaning loudly his discomfort with last night's lack of sleep, the man stood to his feet, hands wiping at his groggy face; he would definitely need a nap later on in the day, planning to do so after he returned from dropping Sophie off at Katie's house. What was peculiar about his most recent nap was the fact that the character's in the story he had been daydreaming about seemed to have acted upon their own accord within his mind; if he was recalling the lackluster images from his foggy mind correctly, they had even had sex for the first time, which certainly came as a surprise to him. Peter scratched at his head as he reflected upon the story that was beginning to take form, plotting out the next course of events for his male and female lead as he headed down the spiral staircase. Making it to his bedroom only a few moments later, the exhausted author tossed his glasses onto the bed and slowly stripped out of his pajamas, swapping them out for a plain blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans. As he sat on the edge of the bed and tied a pair of boots to his feet, he ran multiple scenarios and thoughts before his mind's third eye, tossing aside whatever made no sense in exchange for believable story lines. This process of his was far from refined, but it was his and his alone, and it worked out for him in the end--usually. Straightening up, the man grabbed a brown leather jacket and tossed it on before retrieving his glasses and edging out the bedroom door, his heavy footfalls echoing throughout the silent, empty house. Downstairs within seconds, Peter slipped his glasses on and headed for the front door, grabbing up his cell phone and key ring in a small dish situated upon a wooden stand in the foyer. He ventured outside and locked the front door behind him, eyes squinting to adjust to the sudden change in light sources; the sun was shining brilliantly even though a crisp wind sliced through his jacket and chilled his bones. Fortunately, there was a jacket for Sophie in the car, so making another trip inside wasn't necessary. Peter opened up the car door and slid inside, closing it quickly behind him; exhaling sharply, he started the car and donned his seat belt, still somewhat lost within his thoughts; a good muse like this had evaded him as of late, and he wasn't entirely keen on letting it escape without tapping it for as much inspiration as he could get. Shifting the car into reverse, Peter checked his mirrors, looked behind him and set out to pick up his daughter. ----- Peter stood in the familiar spot in front of the school, leaning against his SUV with a bright pink jacket in hand. He was pretty worn out, but he driven with the windows down on the way over and so he felt a bit more alert than he had been in his office. He glanced at his watch and was pleased to find that school would be letting out in just one minute. From here, he would take Sophie to a toy store and they'd pick out a present for Katie, and most likely, something for Sophie too, because she was spoiled and he was soft. His stomach ached just then, which reminded him that he should probably get something to eat; as it was Friday and he would be alone later on tonight, cooking wouldn't be necessary--he'd surprise Sophie with pizza or something to that effect and she'd be more than happy. Peter thought about what was in store for him this weekend; he was beginning to detest being locked within his office. He wanted to be out and about, meeting people his age, perhaps make a few friends or pick up a hobby; but he didn't think he was up to that, as thoughts of Samantha returned to him. Instantly sobered of his optimistic mood, Peter glumly observed the ground as the bell loudly proclaimed the beginning of the weekend.
  19. ...and it made me frown

    I finally eat for the first time in two days and can only handle a few bites of spaghetti. My tiny stomach is a punk.
  20. Fairy Tales For Sophie

    Bathing within the ethereal glow of the moon's cloak, the scarred man instructed his less experienced lover in the ways of intimacy without a spoken word to aid her during the controlled crash course; his sporadic grunts and groans were lessons to be learned, as they were not without their reason or purpose. Diligent as he was in communicating to her body what it was to expect and how to respond, he lost himself at times, his hips swinging of their own accord, greedily taking their fill of the receptacle his love muscle plundered. By this point, they had been conducting such a rigorous continuous exercise that he could feel his knees begin to ache, his thighs burning in protest of continuing on; he had lost track of time, of how long they had been combined at the hip and wondered just how much longer they should continue. Even as the thought crossed his mind, a commanding voice within his head hastily pushed it aside; they weren't quite finished, not yet by a long shot anyway. He had more to give, more to show, more for them both to experience that he couldn't possibly think of calling it a night now. Silas grinned into the flesh of Ava's neck, his teeth bared as he relentlessly assaulted her body which was now devoid of its innocence. His unruly hands roamed and pawed at her delectable body, squeezing and massaging her various smooth, slick surfaces; once or twice, his fingers crawled to the base of her neck, poised as he considered diving into the dark recesses of his fetishes. After careful consideration, the thought subsided and he returned his hands to her hips, his better judgment ultimately coming through in the end. She was handling the situation extremely well, which came as a bit of a surprise to him; he could sense her discomfort when the pain hit and could tell that maybe she was having second thoughts, as is usually the case. But she said nothing to stop what he was doing, she didn't try to move away to retreat from what was occurring; her resolve to see through the initial roughness was commendable, but the trust she had in him to not harm her was what he really cherished. It was of course something that stoked his internal fire even more, but even as they engaged in their naughty deed, he could tell that it was something he would reflect upon and give great thought to later. Silas came to an abrupt stop, his barrel chest heaving up and down, meshing with Ava's plush breasts as he gasped for air. He was worn out, severely lacking in both energy and stamina, partly due to the injuries and travel catching up to him. But he had performed well under those same circumstances for days now, so it was an excuse he refused to acknowledge. He slowly pushed himself away from the blonde, their sticky abdomens hesitant to release one another from their bond. Back upon a vertical base, Silas gingerly withdrew himself from his lover, his stiff organ slathered in their combined arousal. He oozed and dripped, the cold night air causing him to yearn for Ava's warm interior. He outstretched a hand and took one of Ava's in his, pulling the blonde first up into a sitting position and then onto her feet, supporting her wracked body with his other arm. He looked down slightly, observing her physical condition; she looked drained and ready for rest, but her eyes were hungry, peering into his, silently pleading for more. Whether or not that was actually the case, he knew not but he proceeded by picking the slender woman up into his arms. Her familiar weight was comforting, her slim frame sliding onto his as if it were the missing piece to a puzzle. Silas wrapped her legs around him once again, feeling her arms automatically snake around his neck. His large hands slid up her legs and found the soft cheeks of her backside, palms filled to the brim with her flesh. Fingers digging in, he lowered her body onto his, their respective sexual orhans reintroduced to one another. Silas stood tall, his back straight and his legs rigid; his eyes were engaging Ava's, his gaze unwavering as he began to slide the woman up and down upon his phallus, slowly at first but rapidly approaching the pace they had reached upon the table. She bounced almost effortlessly after only a few moments, his hands there just to steady and balance her by this point. He groaned her name, the low, guttural word forced through clenched teeth; only a few minutes had escaped him and already he could feel his insides churning. He was close to reaching his peak, after all this time, and was eagerly awaiting its arrival. She began to move slowly now, his strokes drawn out over many seconds, causing him to not only stretch her, but for him to experience every inch of her stubbornly tight walls. The sensation drove the wind from his chest as he repeated the process over and over, drawing ever closer to his climax. "Ava..," he whispered breathlessly, his voice hardly audible. He could wait no more. His body gave a tremendous shudder to announce the arrival of his climax and then it was upon him, draining what was left of his vitality directly into Ava's body. The sensation shocked his senses and lasted quite longer than he had anticipated, and in response, he clutched the woman as closely to himself as he could as he gave her his seed.
  21. Valentine's Sig Shop

    I'll just pack my shop up now. Edit: If nothing else, I'm interested in your work since I can learn from it, so please carry on.
  22. Mystic's Lack of Creative Talent

    Lol. You're most welcome!