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Yes exactly.
The name is the second essence, and in their names, reflecting the rays of the legend of restless pride and romantic outcasts, Velvet found something that his nature, tormented by gray hopelessness of days, was reaching for.
Of course, the Forest Witch could not be Eurydice, an anemic beauty from the realm of the dead.

In blissful moments of apotheosis, something amazingly bestial was fluttering in her, as if a free-running lynx soul shone through her dark skin with tongues of indomitable flame.
And only the embodiment of Orpheus could have belonged to these never, even in the hottest moments, not closing, always looking into the face of his beloved dark eyes; decisive,

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but at the same time soft, like wax, hands; strong, playing frosted highlights of the moon, thighs.
When they had nothing left but a thin white bracelet on the ankle of the Sorceress, the second action began – the most elegant, the most subtle from the point of view of aesthetics, but also the most thoughtful.
Sometimes the Velvet with the shudder of the thief caught in the act of fire was burned by the sparks of Orpheus’s gaze or stumbled upon the mischievous expression of the naughty woman Witch.
But everything happened so swiftly that the fright of velvet passed quickly.
Continuing to contemplate, he whispered himself to the fact that he supposedly thought that it was just a shaky nervous system.
The same thing happened the next time: he caught their eyes, like the gullible butterflies flying to the light of his soul, was frightened, but then he reassured himself that this simply could not be what he thought.
He soon got used to the flashes of longing and fear that usually accompanied the second action, so much so that he was just waiting for them with the perverse impatience of a true esthete.

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Fantasy Orpheus knew no bounds.
The Forest Witch followed him in everything, and only when he was fed up with exhaustion of excitement did he rush forward, coming up with something unusual that could hardly arise in a quick, but very straightforward, male consciousness.
Velvet especially liked those moments.
It seemed that Orpheus was disappearing enveloped in her arms, kisses and caresses of her partner, like a larva in the dense shell of a pupa.
At such moments on the stage reigned flexible back witch with a thin dotted spine in the middle and oval buttocks, poured inescapable royal grace.
All the rest of the time, Orpheus, having become like Pygmalion, sculpted from his mistress freakish, almost unthinkable, but magnificent figures in his perfection.
Especially Velvet liked it when Orpheus gave the Witch the cello pose, keeping one hand on the back of her head, the other – caressing the delicate pinkness between trustingly spread legs; the bow replaced his own mouth, avidly digging into the nipple of one of the breasts.
However, it is unlikely that the authorship of this composition entirely belonged to Orpheus, – something similar was seen in the Hermitage Museum, in the Rodin Hall.
In the third act, the actors rejected the mind.
There was no question of any fantasies.
The subordinates of Her Majesty’s passion, they merged into one being, which confused, shook and attracted Velvet.
It was embarrassing that one of the components of this being wore obviously masculine features.
A force that shook through every movement of this creature shook the indomitable, diabolical force, comparable only to the avalanche of Vesuvius.
The velvet was attracted by a clear feeling that he is the same as this creature, or rather its components – sensitive, tender, decisive, impish, strong, soft, savvy and completely natural.
As soon as the third act ended, the nightlight with fish went out and the scene plunged into impenetrable darkness.
But Velvet sat for a long time in his chair, indulging in dreamy dives in mise en scenes, only flashed before his eyes.
Sometimes he thought about the one who played the main female role.
And from where in the city, in the midst of the furious rhythm of the plant for the production of ambitions, pride, greed and vain hopes, in the midst of the rationalized miasma of rationality and rationalism of the close asphalt-concrete space, it was taken by the Forest Witch? Webcam xxx chat.

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