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Post by Monaco on Oct 12, 2012 16:19:05 GMT -5
Bienvenue à Monte-Carlo! [/b][/color][/center] Here's Monaco's home sweet home. Amidst the luxurious city of Monaco stands a magnificent building, where people from around the world meet up to enjoy themselves with gambling and drinking. Enjoy your stay!
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Post by Loki Laufeyson on Oct 12, 2012 17:48:22 GMT -5
The casino restaurant was bathed in a red glow, surrounded by a thick blanket of whirring, ringing, clanging gambling machines, but France heard none of this. Monaco was sitting across from him at the table, perusing her menu and looking absolutely gorgeous. Her feminine form was luminous, her hair the color of sunlit hay and her skin the flushed pink shade of a spring cherry blossom.
Unable to resist, France scooted his chair round to her side of the table, draping an arm around her warm rounded shoulders.
"What are you zhinking, ma cherie?" He kissed her earlobe, then nibbled it a little.
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Post by Monaco on Oct 12, 2012 18:12:57 GMT -5
Slightly startled Florence winced as her companion suddenly draped her shoulders. She had been in such full cry scrutinizing the menu, that France’s abrupt touch bamboozled her. And as he even started to nibble her earlobe, she finally became unable to concentrate. With a half-squeezed eye Monaco withdrew her head while raising her shoulders a bit; not enough to get rid of his lips, which position she in fact enjoyed.
„That you can be pretty greedy, Monsieur France.", she answered with her usual neutral, obscure voice, though she couldn’t hide a undertune of flattered amusement.
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Post by Loki Laufeyson on Oct 13, 2012 6:30:23 GMT -5
"Oh?" Francis began, his sensual lips curling into a smile, "what do you mean, ma cherie?"
Her voice was flat and inexpressive, her usual speaking mode, but France could discern her steadily growing sense of enchantment. She squirmed beneath his touch, allowing him to nibble and lick her earlobe. This set him aflame with desire-- he wanted more, much more. He struggled to control himself.
"I admit zat eet es... difficult to desire only a beet of you, ma cherie." He lifted her hand to his lips. "Even now I... am trying very 'ard not to kiss you."
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Post by Monaco on Oct 13, 2012 10:13:42 GMT -5
The Monégasque let her thumb gently and slowly stroke his underlip, while her eyes followed it. „Geduld ist eine Tugend.“ , was the only thing she replied in her best German (which actually could be way better ), ere she continued choosing her dish. Patience is a virtue. Her lips graced a barely even noticeable smile at this thought. In her opinion Germany was not really a paragon when it came to following this saying of his people.
Out of the corners of her eyes she sighted France thoughtfully. He indeed wasn’t the most patient man she has met, especially when it came to love. Generally Florence was unsure how to interpret the sweetest words of his addressed to her considering the fact she wasn’t the only one he treated this way.
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Post by Loki Laufeyson on Oct 13, 2012 14:14:56 GMT -5
It was always shocking when a beautiful specimen refused him, even for a little while. He was losing himself in her eyes, in the softness of her skin, and every fiber of his being yearned for a kiss, a sensual touch, to experience her long, lean body against his in bed.
"Ohohohoho! You mean to make moi wait, mm? Fair enough."
He raised his glass of wine to his lips, his free hand gliding over her supple thigh.
"What are zhinking about eating, mm? I am 'aving ze fois gras, naturally."
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Post by Monaco on Oct 13, 2012 17:24:39 GMT -5
Monaco crossed her legs which caused that France’s hand slided upwards a bit, but she actually didn’t deign to look at, while she allowed herself a last glimpse into her menu.
„I feel like pot-au-feu today.“
With a charming smile she finally attended herself to France abundantly. She scrutinized him thoughtfully. Oui. France indeed was the most handsome man she had ever (which in fact was a long time) her pleasure with. It was no suprise that it was a simple thing for him wrapping around his finger every man and woman he desired.Florence was one of them, though she was after all way too proud to acknowledge this to herself.
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Post by Loki Laufeyson on Oct 18, 2012 17:04:17 GMT -5
She was doing her best to resist him, though her attempts were becoming more and more feeble by the hour. He chose a simple dish at length. He did not want to gorge himself too much on rich food-- not if he wanted to manage a stellar performance later-- in the heat of the night.
"A splendid choice!" he said, winking. "Now, ma cherie, would you like to go dancing after zis?"
This would be the moment-- the opportunity to hold her body so intimately to his would be crucial. In this way, he could coax her into arousal and thus into his bed.
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Post by Monaco on Oct 19, 2012 10:27:27 GMT -5
Her usually strict, thoughtful features turned rarely soft at this proposal of his and her dainty scarlet lips caressed by a gentle smile.
“Ah...it truly ‘as been a while since we danced for the last time.”
Literally an eternity. Monaco absentmindedly stroked one of her blonde strands of hair behind her ear and tried to remember. It must have been during those times in which the young Monegasque was Spanish property. Looking back and objectively considered, it seemed ridiculous to her right now, but back then she had probably seen in France something like a heroic knight in shining armor, who delivered her from the clutches of the dragon. She smiled slightly and drained her glass. To be honest, for years no opportunity had arise for her to dance with someone. The ballet, for which her small country was famous, was indeed her passion, but France was the last one, in front of whom she would make a fool out of herself to a lack of social dancing skills.
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