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ScarletOnIce last won the day on October 1 2018

ScarletOnIce had the most liked content!

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About ScarletOnIce

  • Rank
    French Kisser
  • Birthday 09/29/1990

Profile Information

  • Music
    Everything, from Classic to Punk to Hip Hop. It's just, music' so GOOD!
  • Location
    Beautiful French-Canada!
  • Interests
    When I don't work or worry, I listen to music, read or write. Too many passions to fit them all in a lifetime, but I try! I enjoy a cool glass of white wine when I feel classy, and a neat bottle of whiskey when I'm feeling myself. Currently in a quest to find my own happiness.
  • Signature Fragrance
    La Vie Est Belle - Lancôme
  • Favourite Book
    The Secret History - Donna Tartt

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  1. ScarletOnIce

    The 12 Hours

    1. First Kiss In your dream, you rent a hotel room from 8AM to 8PM, so that whatever happens within these 12 hours takes place somewhere that's only yours for half a day, that you can leave when the spell fades away and you have to go back to not touching her. And, in your dream, you bring white wine, 'cause you don't see yourself tasting her lips without the sweet tang of her preferred drink. And you take pleasure in making her drink early in the morning, 'cause you're a teenager and she's a good girl, soon-to-be-bad. So you drink, and you smoke, so that she'll think of you when she smells the scent of cigarette, so that she'll taste it on her tongue when she kisses you. And she kisses you, you make sure she's the one to take that first -burning- step. Even though she's nervous, even though she rolls her eyes and smiles and looks away, blushing, telling you that she won't do it, she won't kiss you first; even though she challenges you into doing it instead, looking you right in the eye with warm, intense blues that would twist your insides in a knot were you not so amused, so convinced that she'll break first. Even as she playfully insists, eyes cast aside and pink coloring her cheeks, that her resolve cannot be bent, that she's too hard-headed to give-in now that you've challenged her into kissing you first. But she still kisses you first, long minutes after she could have, were she not so adorably stubborn; she still touches her lips to yours first, 'causeyou know how to get your way, you know which strings to pull for her to come to you, even if you cheated, somehow, and kissed just below her ear after trailing the tip of your nose from the crook of her neck to under her chin, making her move her head your way. And you're gloating inside, pressing a proud grin to her lips; you would be teasing her mercifully, mocking her like the teenager that she likes in you, were you not finally kissing her, her tongue slithering between your lips in search for yours. In your dream, past and present get blurred into flashes and your breath is stolen from your lungs, and you wonder how you were once able to forget how it was, to be kissing her. How you were ever able to stop, and spend months without her lips wedged between yours. And it's slow; the first kiss is so very slow it almost feels shy but you're not nervous. It all feels too good for you not to be anything but electrified yet petrified. In your dream, she's sitting on the bed and your knees are touching, enough to feel the press all the way up your spine, but you still put your hand on her thigh 'cause it's the only move you can make that doesn't make you feel like it'll all vanish up in smoke should you move too fast. You still press your lips harder into hers, still swipe your tongue over hers, a little faster, a little hungrier, 'cause she's there, she's right there and she's kissing you back, pulling away long enough to change the slant of her mouth before chasing after your lips again. And you're not scared of moving anymore. You're scared you won't be able to stop. You exhale as she bites your lip, soft and subtle, and you realize your hand is at the nape of her neck, fingertips lost in silky strands. You didn't realize your hand snaked its way there and it makes you break the kiss, 'cause this is a little too much, too fast. Your heart is racing, your cheeks are burning and you watch her face with delight as her eyes slowly flutter open, blue made darker and lips made redder. She's so pretty, so enticing, you just want to kiss her again, and you almost do but then you don't, you laugh instead, and she frowns for a second, confused, just before she smiles, and it's decadent; this gorgeous girl staring at you, the perfect picture of temptation. There's still a spark of puzzlement twinkling in the silver of blue swallowed up by blown pupils as she looks at you, but she grins, raises an eyebrow and asks a falsely-offended "What?!" And, in your dream, you commit this image to your memory, 'cause you think that, right this moment, she might be the most beautiful girl you have ever seen.