I enjoyed talking with you. You are a very cute girl *smiles*

 

*sigh*

I cannot sleep...

 

im on yahoo!

I'm really horny at the moment and I've been wanting to cum on cam for a woman but I havent had any luck.

 

Not appreciative

This is the second self advertisement I've found in my thread. Please post elsewhere. I do not cam.

 

you said romantic and intelligent would you like to give me a try? just pm if interested

 

Sweet sounding words, a gentle poem, a love song or a romantic eve, i could thing of nothing better than to be with you and to share all of these. I would love to talk to you. You sound like an amazing woman. I too value intelligence and have a lot of respect for women. If you would like to chat, please give me your address and I will ensure you recieve my address so that we are able to talk. I am a 18 year old male, 6'3" with blonde hair and crystal blue eyes.

 

Lonely

Is there an interested man?

 

This is brilliant! Getting guys to speak properly who usually are in other threads saying something like "omgz i wana cum all ova ur face". Classic

 

*Ahem* :rose:

Gracing your shoulders and the back of your neck from left to right with a feather-weight fingertip, the surprisingly stealthy Mercutio make his presence known even as he walks past your perch, "It would seem I've brought a rose for you, m'Lady."

He smiles then, a warm, broad gesture that seems to take up the whole lower half of his face, even crinkling up the corners of the pair of emerald orbs perched at the top! In his hand is a long-stemmed rose, its thorns neatly trimmed, its petals rose-red with hints of white swirled about in its center. Placing the token flora upon the table, he can't help himself but to comment on the incredulity of the quest at hand, "I must say, my dear, that choosing a dive-bar over a finer gathering establishment in the hopes of finding a gentleman is akin to searching a hayfield for a needle simply because you've heard that every stack has one!"

He chuckles, a deep baritone with sharp, transient notes nestled within. He rests his hand upon the back of the chair opposite your own, his attention once more turning to you as he gestures to said piece of furniture, "May I?"

Pausing for but a hair's bredth of time, he doesn't wait for your reply, making himself perfectly comfortable in the perch whether it was warranted or not. He crosses one leg over the other as he leans back into his new found rest, letting one arm rest in his lap, the other layed casually out across the table. Taking a moment to gather his surroundings, his gaze wanders from over one shoulder to the other before locking onto yours.

Many have referred to his gaze as disconcerting, while others have found it comforting. Either way, it's because he's digging into you with every passing moment, reading every twitch of muscle, every tug of sinew, every glimmer in your eye as he attempts to strike up conversation with you. That constantly analyzing stare and his overall demeanor tend to lend an aire of comfort to any situation the man asserts himself into, often leaving those involved feeling both perfectly safe and completely exposed, all at the same time.

He'd continue his vocalized thoughts, not letting you get an edge-in word-wise until he's said his piece and made the proper introductions, "You've thrown out a nigh-impossible challenge to the masses, hoping that some salivating dog amongst the pack of salivating dogs will smell sweeter and, perhaps, God willing, drool a little less than the others. In truth, you're looking for a thoroughbred, when the majority of what you're likely to find are ravenous, feral mutts, all wagging their tails even as they aim to sink their teeth into your oh-so-delicate flesh..."

He'd smirk then, that - pardon the language - 'shit-eating' grin he's infamous for that turns the left half of his mouth down while lighting-up the entire right half of his face! "Of course, where there is a will, there is a way, as the saying goes, and I see you have a will about you. Now, who knows the way? That, my dear, is the question of the evening, is it not? Perhaps it is the bold-faced Richief, or Cockateer, the gentlemanly scholar? Though, the latter is a bit too old for your tastes, I'm afraid. Hmm.. A conundrum, then, methinks have we."

Rat-tat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat-tat. His fingers dance, one tip at a time, upon the tabletop as he seemingly stares through you for a moment, as if searching for the very answer to your question in a far-away land only he might tread. Then, in an instant, he's back, his forested hues aflame! Again, his gaze bores into your own, softened by those ever-present up-turned lips. "Well, it seems we'll just have to make do with what's available here and now, shan't we?"

He chuckles again, three good, "Heh's," to fortify his already up-beat demeanor. "With that in mind, allow me to introduce myself.."

He'd stand then, his leather-clad feet clop-cloping against the floor as he lifts himself with ease. Boldly, he'd announce, "My name is Mercutio. If I may, I dare say you shan't soon forget it!"

With a wink, he'd tuck one hand about his middle and the other behind his back, bowing low to the fair lass before him, raising again after a second's time to smile and ponder aloud, "And what might be thy name, oh sweet. patient Lady whom hath so graciously allowed me to sit and pratter on as I have, hmm?"

Again, that dubious grin makes its presence known, though, this time, there is no further quip, no further verbage, no action whatsoever. He simply stands, gazing at you with thick brows held high, thoroughly expecting - though patiently awaiting - an answer.

 

To Mercutio

-I blush profusely at your incinerator's gaze. Barely can I breathe as you have stolen the oxygen from the air with not only your presence but with your love of speaking. I gaze upon you. I am mesmerized not by your eyes, but by your manner, cocky but not seeking to be conceited, or at least, not overly so. I lean forward with my chin upon my hand. I listen attentively to your speech and formulate my own thoughts and impressions of the man before me. My shyness and my defiant heart compete for presence in my words. I know not quite how to respond, but with so many eyes upon us, even my most simple of responses is held at bay. Goosebumps pepper my pale, freckled skin in memory of the sensual touch you graced me with at first meet. I bite my peach colored lip and soon the most simple of responses seeks escape from my mouth. I lean back off of my hand and drop it to join its mate in my lap- I am Lady Rosaline. -my soft alto holds an air of elegance-

 

"Rosaline.."

He can't help but muse over this name, as it is inextricably connected to his own, "Lady Rosaline.. The fair maiden by which a brother-in-arms would lose his heart and swear-off love forever!"

He can't help but laugh then, boisterous and good naturedly, ending it with a smile and a sigh. Taking his seat and resuming his obviously comfortable positioning, the dapper young man would simply gaze about, ever-watchful of the world around him. It wasn't fear.. It was readiness, alertness. It drove him to eye the darkened silhouettes as they milled about the place, some good-naturedly drunk, others randy and out-spoken, and others still almost violent in their belligerance.

He saw them all, and he did so with an efficiency that meant the lovely Lady Rosaline would never be without his utmost attention for long. He'd rumble bemusedly, "I've heard of your exploits, fair Mistress, though assuredly, they could very well have been the exploits of another bearing your name. However, I find that any rose, no matter its name, not only smells as sweet, but pricks the digits as thoroughly..."

He tone would take on an almost menacing tone with those last few words, his head lowering to sharpen the look of him, his eyes and brows all but merging from the angle. It was a knowing look, one that warned of both playful punishment and serious admonishment, as each situation may require.

Still, he'd smile - always smiling, like a jester, or a fool, but without the lack of composure one would expect from such. An ever smiling man without a silly moniker was, without doubt, a man who knew where he stood in the world, and where the world stood with him. He'd continue, an impishness to his spoken word that was previously lacking, "Speak, my dear. Tell me of yourself, so that I may better gauge the hue of your petals, and the thorns inherent thereof..."

"Oh, but first!.." He'd snap his fingers over his shoulder as a waitress weaved her way delicately through the crowds. Handing her a folded bill of hidden mark, he'd ask her to bring him a smooth sipping vodka in a chilled glass, then turn his gaze to you, "Would you care for anything, m'Lady? Pick your poison. Or, perhaps the fair lady is peckish? It's not fine-dining, but it'll ease that hollow feel for awhile.. At least, in part."

Again with that grin.. Hard to tell if it was an honest reminder of inherent deviousness, or simply a facade, a poker-face designed to enthrall? Either way, it was not oft absent, and this time is no different than the rest!

 

My Lord

-laughs softly, a sweet gentle sound without the annoyances of high pitched resonance- Pick my poison? What a fine array of words so linked to your first statements. I believe mulled cider shall do. You asked of the connection of my name to yours. I have had no "exploits", my lord, but the silly Romeo had nothing to do with me, and if you are implying that he has something to do with you, I can only ask how you revived yourself from the grave. -delicately sips from the goblet brought to me- You ask to know of me to better know my thorns. Well, sir, I am defiant. As much as I love to have a strong, dominant man, my opinions and my actions of are of my own will. But enough of that. Alas, my lord, I must away for duties I shall not mention here. -stands and with a nod, leaves the room, head high, my 5'9" stature towering over the petite serving girls-

 

He can't help but laugh quietly to himself as he listens to this vision before him speak of defiance as if he were some established figure-head. Notions of problematic relationships with authority figures abound within his head. Perhaps she has some unresolved issues with her father or some similar patriarch?

His gaze would lift back to her own, a soft chuckle still in his throat as he replies, "No, my dear, I did not mean that you had some relation to the hundred-years-dead characters that assuredly inspired the better known tale of tragedy that helped make famous the late, great playwright, William Shakespeare!.."

He could only smile, then, his brain ever ticking with thought, after notion, after hint, after innuendo.. "'Twas an allusion, is all; a play-on-words, if you will, of what may be now or what once was a reality within your world. Based on your response, I have gleaned many a thing about you, already, both intentionally and unintentionally revealed."

Not a word escaped his lips as he watched the woman rise, her words having said enough. Perhaps she was away to powder her nose, or off to don more appropriate attire with which to clean the stalls in. Either way, it mattered not. She knew his name, and she knew where to find him, now. She'd be back, of that he was confident.

In fact, even the way she held herself told him more about her. Why so pretentious, so.. passively volatile towards the other women present? To this he could draw a myriad of conclusions, but, regardless of the inherent truth, they were all boons for him. Be it jealousy, a lack of self-esteem, a competitive nature, etc. - they all meant the conversation had gone well, as she was obviously trying to prove something. Whether she was trying to prove it to herself, to him, or to the world, well.. That remains to be seen!

"And to be seen, it most assuredly shall be..." He spoke lowly, to himself, as an audible finish to his thoughts. This was accompanied by a soft chuckle, not unlike the one mentioned before, followed by a sip of his vodka, and the turn of his gaze back to the other patrons crowding the room.

 

mmm nice

 

i can handle that...

i will pm you.

 

very nice

 

u r gr8

 

messaged you

 

i am quite the romantic my dear, message me

 

i'm your guy