The following was dreamt and penned by the fantastical: Ra
The halter spins with charms and silk that braids in a fiery color wraps.
Around my ankles to basin shapes.
I smell horse leather, strapping around my wrists with painted fingernails.
Caressing my skin to open wide like a skillful Seiðr with an unholy sex magic to endure.
My Swan feathers is engaging with you.
As gentle as rose petals and Raven feathers to your Godly grandeur.
Wælcyrie Skies will be the source when we fly.
The chariot that lifts me.
Is strong as a horse back that takes strides from side to side.
Your strong presence surrounds me with a hung pipe to devour me from the side.
I am an untamed mortal that invokes the words of a Wet Licked Taint.
Untainted love is the body Spæ that I yearn to yearn for you to blow my V-spot in turn.
Yes I understand your spells.
All lights dims when you walk in with your mighty hammer.
Your secret power of pounding flesh is lightening.
Unholy fantasies in Wælcyrie skies when we fly to Valhalla.
A token of my glisten flesh.
To you without restriction as you solicited to capture my milky skin in rapture.
The touch of horse leather in nines.
I like a mighty Kjósa that chooses my chest to be slain with licks of your wet lips.
A bite of a talented Völva is not satisfied yet.
But he who yearns more for my honey against my lower lips has great hunger.
It is all so magical when we lock lips to pass a key of tongues to lips to lips.
A Seiðr with Raven hair has Godly arms to lusts for.
Grabs hold and ride the endowed like a beautiful horse.
A Spækona is into the air.
The sound of ragging chains and scented leather are possessing my moans with groans with sticks and stones.
Untamed beast is unstrapping himself as the keeper of my keys.
Lock me away and turn the other cheek he speaks.
Feast your eyes and lets the beast turn loose.
Swans and Ravens will fly to sounds of Moans and Groans.
Ascension to the Wælcyrie Skies.
Every part of our mortal flesh will ache from legs, basin, chest and mind.
Your sex magic will set me free.
Loosen yourself Beast and hunt for my White Deer please.
Ring Ring I hear and call me back my dear.
Völuspá is chained to a swing oh dear.
Unstraps all of your chains and take my aches and pains without fear.
He who carries the magic staff, has the keys to chain my soul with a crack of a whip to endear in one snap.