Derek Owens
Sweet Burning Destiny of the Highland Duke's Reluctant Virgin Bride's Pulsing Fevered Desire
1
I love you heartling he proclaimed we have such a quantity of honey to consume my love my devil's plaything my ruby as of now I take control of these wedding night maneuvers he decreed in a voice so raw and low she barely recognized it his one hand moving to the honeyed vee between her legs groaning at the abundant wetness most of it made by her own hive with sticky fingers he examined all intimate recesses of that holy cleft paying particular attention to the bud that swelled and bloomed and dipping his fingers in the honey pot on the nearby table coated the pouting flower framed by vibrating pink petals to be followed by his impassioned urgent bucking and her primal keening as he used his other hand to flutter her abyss her altar blossom her chamber her cloven tuft her cornucopia her fountain her furrow her garden her gate her keyhole her magpie's nest her masterpiece her melting-pot her milking-pail her mons her quiff her quim her quimsy her satchel her seed plot her socket her thatch her treasure her wound with his bayonet his bodkin his bowsprit his butterknife his candlestick his firebrand his hammer his Irish root his lance his muscle his pilgrim's staff his pistol his plowshare his quarter-master his rudder his shaft of Cupid
2
oh no you do not rest yet he crooned softly tis your turn cat to clean my plate come with me now mayhap you have had no one to tweak that sweet conductive surface fluidity construct whilst I was gone and that has turned you weepish twas inevitable that some of my industrial non-corrosive lubricant dispenser spill into your womb I visited so often oh you fight dirty he growled as he stood proudly in his savage nakedness like a Viking god his hard arousal proclaiming his physical want of her his pleading eyes speaking of his emotional need as he huskily instructed her to kneel so they faced each other and using all the uninhibited skill she possessed she paid homage to his economy socket fitting reamer his deliciously solid-state dual field generation display the marble hardness of his raised cleanout plug with wrist action handle the deed is done she cooed oh teach me passion
taking her hot stem barbed fitting into his mouth sucking gently rolling the other anti-leak packing nut between his fingers her female flare cap pressed into him and he thought he would explode just from the touch of her stomach against his hardened pop-up stopper unit and moving his mouth to her other butterfly valve bit it gently as she unthreaded his threaded stainless steel ball valve then with the tip of his finger he skimmed a trail down between her self-retracting liquid filler packets to cup her simple impact craters in his palms isn’t this a pretty sight he sighed and shifted his compliant gooseneck spout springing free of his Levi's and she pushed him back onto the bed and sat up pulling the pants down his legs and discarding them on the floor staring in amazement at the beauty before her for never had she seen a naked man a strong bronzed firm man such a choke rod grommet set he had he was a living testament to the beauty of the male animal
whereupon he sat astraddle the arms of her chair with his champion flush valve just barely touching the dew of her grinding accessories with manifold clevis pin the veins standing out on his splicer coupling sustainer nozzle threatening to burst their sensitized nerve endings then placed his jig and fixture components at the door of her air release actuating unit trying to breach the lock whereupon he continued his ministrations until her heat exchange camshaft housing expanded and ached and the inner muscles of her flow measure control disk convulsed around his spark sleeve coil stock in a paroxysm of splintering little explosions oh he would show her what a specimen he actually was and by the gods she must admit his superior talents
3
as she caught his gaze and held it with her own she took his painted trillium in her hands and like the cartographer she was surveyed every inch of the part that made Quentin a man as she continued to stroke his poisoned dogwood he growled a curse and pulled her down on the bed next to him a quick yank and her nightdress joined his cape on the floor and with a heave he initiated their orbital inclination procedure buffing softly her inky death cap as she applied everything she had learned since their first kiss into caressing his summer squash which she stroked and nipped and teased allowing all she felt for him to come rushing forth like a thousand falling stars
she could not prevent herself from praising his three-lobed spearhead birch cone with her fingers and gazing upon his stigma beams she adjusted her axial tilt and horizontal breach rotation vector as his hands sought entrance into her moss cup and he kissed her like a starving man who suddenly comes upon a banquet his hands exploring her reverently sliding upwards cupping her two-leaved solomon's seal and teasing her pollen sacs as she pressed her nectary receptacle against his hairy huckleberry and only when she drew him into her sepal array did she know relief his wild apple dangleberries against her secret sassafras button bush with pleasure surging and sweeping and without really knowing why she suddenly opened her peltandra peduncles as he worried her weeds and grasses sliding inside her checkerberry mountain tea a bit further don’t he ground out between his teeth raising his head slightly away from her neck don’t move I should never have let this go so far my tender cat-tail but I wanted this I want you you told me you’d make me beg so I’m begging please love me tonight please teach me carve my pumpkin
4
with his corkscrew theory aimed at her kneading quotient and his tongue curled about her halo effect she unbuckled his breastplate for at this moment she realized the depths of his uncivilized nature and heaven be praised as she climbed him as if he were an oak tree as he positioned the tip of his superposition principle against her open mapping textual interface and piercing the indifference curve guarding her fission hypothesis whispered hush it’s done her mouth clamping tight on his mutualistic hypothesis ratio I am no longer ashamed she whispered indeed came the reply you are not and I thank God for it and she took him inside her absorption cycle theorem as he instructed her look here is a tiny effluence law that blooms with the slightest stimulation allow me to prove it to you and she felt her collusion field begin to unfurl laying bare her sunspot theory and making delicious love to her with his Barkhausen effect he said you lynx I have breached all your defenses your phylogenetic systematics are crowned with impacted pluralisms that would tempt the devil himself as molten sparks of fire lit inside him my god you're crying nay they are tears of rapture and for the first time in her life she felt worshipped down to her toes her insides all shaky
5
oh Thork we’ve been married twenty years and you still take my breath away
Derek Owens directs the Institute for Writing Studies at St. John’s University in Queens, NY. “Burning Destiny...” is from a work in progress, Kissing Schwitters, a collection of reworked pieces inspired by found materials. Here he has excerpted the juicy parts from a handful of romantica novels, replacing the naughty parts in places with terms from plumbing supply catalogues, plants from Thoreau's journals, and so on.
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I love you heartling he proclaimed we have such a quantity of honey to consume my love my devil's plaything my ruby as of now I take control of these wedding night maneuvers he decreed in a voice so raw and low she barely recognized it his one hand moving to the honeyed vee between her legs groaning at the abundant wetness most of it made by her own hive with sticky fingers he examined all intimate recesses of that holy cleft paying particular attention to the bud that swelled and bloomed and dipping his fingers in the honey pot on the nearby table coated the pouting flower framed by vibrating pink petals to be followed by his impassioned urgent bucking and her primal keening as he used his other hand to flutter her abyss her altar blossom her chamber her cloven tuft her cornucopia her fountain her furrow her garden her gate her keyhole her magpie's nest her masterpiece her melting-pot her milking-pail her mons her quiff her quim her quimsy her satchel her seed plot her socket her thatch her treasure her wound with his bayonet his bodkin his bowsprit his butterknife his candlestick his firebrand his hammer his Irish root his lance his muscle his pilgrim's staff his pistol his plowshare his quarter-master his rudder his shaft of Cupid
oh no you do not rest yet he crooned softly tis your turn cat to clean my plate come with me now mayhap you have had no one to tweak that sweet conductive surface fluidity construct whilst I was gone and that has turned you weepish twas inevitable that some of my industrial non-corrosive lubricant dispenser spill into your womb I visited so often oh you fight dirty he growled as he stood proudly in his savage nakedness like a Viking god his hard arousal proclaiming his physical want of her his pleading eyes speaking of his emotional need as he huskily instructed her to kneel so they faced each other and using all the uninhibited skill she possessed she paid homage to his economy socket fitting reamer his deliciously solid-state dual field generation display the marble hardness of his raised cleanout plug with wrist action handle the deed is done she cooed oh teach me passion
taking her hot stem barbed fitting into his mouth sucking gently rolling the other anti-leak packing nut between his fingers her female flare cap pressed into him and he thought he would explode just from the touch of her stomach against his hardened pop-up stopper unit and moving his mouth to her other butterfly valve bit it gently as she unthreaded his threaded stainless steel ball valve then with the tip of his finger he skimmed a trail down between her self-retracting liquid filler packets to cup her simple impact craters in his palms isn’t this a pretty sight he sighed and shifted his compliant gooseneck spout springing free of his Levi's and she pushed him back onto the bed and sat up pulling the pants down his legs and discarding them on the floor staring in amazement at the beauty before her for never had she seen a naked man a strong bronzed firm man such a choke rod grommet set he had he was a living testament to the beauty of the male animal
whereupon he sat astraddle the arms of her chair with his champion flush valve just barely touching the dew of her grinding accessories with manifold clevis pin the veins standing out on his splicer coupling sustainer nozzle threatening to burst their sensitized nerve endings then placed his jig and fixture components at the door of her air release actuating unit trying to breach the lock whereupon he continued his ministrations until her heat exchange camshaft housing expanded and ached and the inner muscles of her flow measure control disk convulsed around his spark sleeve coil stock in a paroxysm of splintering little explosions oh he would show her what a specimen he actually was and by the gods she must admit his superior talents
as she caught his gaze and held it with her own she took his painted trillium in her hands and like the cartographer she was surveyed every inch of the part that made Quentin a man as she continued to stroke his poisoned dogwood he growled a curse and pulled her down on the bed next to him a quick yank and her nightdress joined his cape on the floor and with a heave he initiated their orbital inclination procedure buffing softly her inky death cap as she applied everything she had learned since their first kiss into caressing his summer squash which she stroked and nipped and teased allowing all she felt for him to come rushing forth like a thousand falling stars
she could not prevent herself from praising his three-lobed spearhead birch cone with her fingers and gazing upon his stigma beams she adjusted her axial tilt and horizontal breach rotation vector as his hands sought entrance into her moss cup and he kissed her like a starving man who suddenly comes upon a banquet his hands exploring her reverently sliding upwards cupping her two-leaved solomon's seal and teasing her pollen sacs as she pressed her nectary receptacle against his hairy huckleberry and only when she drew him into her sepal array did she know relief his wild apple dangleberries against her secret sassafras button bush with pleasure surging and sweeping and without really knowing why she suddenly opened her peltandra peduncles as he worried her weeds and grasses sliding inside her checkerberry mountain tea a bit further don’t he ground out between his teeth raising his head slightly away from her neck don’t move I should never have let this go so far my tender cat-tail but I wanted this I want you you told me you’d make me beg so I’m begging please love me tonight please teach me carve my pumpkin
with his corkscrew theory aimed at her kneading quotient and his tongue curled about her halo effect she unbuckled his breastplate for at this moment she realized the depths of his uncivilized nature and heaven be praised as she climbed him as if he were an oak tree as he positioned the tip of his superposition principle against her open mapping textual interface and piercing the indifference curve guarding her fission hypothesis whispered hush it’s done her mouth clamping tight on his mutualistic hypothesis ratio I am no longer ashamed she whispered indeed came the reply you are not and I thank God for it and she took him inside her absorption cycle theorem as he instructed her look here is a tiny effluence law that blooms with the slightest stimulation allow me to prove it to you and she felt her collusion field begin to unfurl laying bare her sunspot theory and making delicious love to her with his Barkhausen effect he said you lynx I have breached all your defenses your phylogenetic systematics are crowned with impacted pluralisms that would tempt the devil himself as molten sparks of fire lit inside him my god you're crying nay they are tears of rapture and for the first time in her life she felt worshipped down to her toes her insides all shaky
oh Thork we’ve been married twenty years and you still take my breath away
Derek Owens directs the Institute for Writing Studies at St. John’s University in Queens, NY. “Burning Destiny...” is from a work in progress, Kissing Schwitters, a collection of reworked pieces inspired by found materials. Here he has excerpted the juicy parts from a handful of romantica novels, replacing the naughty parts in places with terms from plumbing supply catalogues, plants from Thoreau's journals, and so on.
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