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R Lips That Grip

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R lips that grip

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Many women worry that their…. Yet his narrative is gripping , perceptive, and moving at times, even if his conclusions are highly debatable.

The reins trailed on the ground and the rider's hands were gripping the mane. Peter held himself rigidly in the fear that he might disturb the hands that were gripping him.

Stonor sat down on a grub-box, and, gripping his bursting head between his hands, tried to think. Then listen anew to His teaching talks, so homely and so gripping.

He was standing in the rumble, holding himself upright by gripping the back of the two front seats. Find out with this quiz on words that originate from American Indigenous languages.

Words nearby gripping gripe water , gripey , gripman , grippe , gripper , gripping , gripple , grippy , gripsack , gript , grip tape. Words related to gripping intriguing , fascinating , riveting , interesting , engrossing , enthralling , exciting , captivating , spellbinding , arresting , consuming , preoccupying , monopolizing.

Example sentences from the Web for gripping The second pitfall is that Tendulkar has given the reader little of what should be a gripping , meaningful story of his life.

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Aroma of her usual stench, the crown fabricated in barbed wires and branch swayed with each of her careful steps. Soot and blood adorned flesh visible, some of it prickling from the very crown worn.

Advancing closer, intensity of gaze. Foul smelling Demon drawing nearer, steps would halt, mismatched gaze fixed as hoarse voice would call "Have ya come to find da Demons?

It had been told, after all, of the importance of being strong within the cages. He was sure he was free since getting out of jail and leaving the MC, but things for him were spiraling out of control.

He had no direction anymore and he was unable to suppress his inner beast as he did when he had the ones closest to him. Without a leash he had already decimated the innocence of a pure girl, and even marked her physically and mentally for life.

Ram was thinking about all of this and it made him sick. It ook a moment but a familiar scent wafted to his nostrils, carried by the breeze.

He'd cringe slightly as his silvers lifted from behind his glasses seeing the girl he met in jail. The girl who quite literally scared the ever living life out of him.

He was very appreciative that she gave him food, but was still nervous around her. He would then take a deep breath as she made her way up to him as he sat there.

He'd take another drag and blow it out. At least she wasn't covered in. I didn't even know any demons were here He remembered her comrades from jail and was a bit cautious that there were others around.

I'd say I've been keeping my strength up Added weight upon scalp, aside from being precious treasure to adorn her frame, brought with it pain as the thorns and barbed wires dug into her skin.

Agony was always something that helped the Demon remain anchored in present, keeping her fickle mind from visions. Greed gathered all sort of things, be they material or immaterial, giving them the same value.

There were a tenseness in the way one behaved, alike a coiled animal, uncertain of which way to bolt. A pattern the Demon had often witnessed when hunting upon her land.

In such a state, they should be approached with care for, cornered animal often reacted strongly. Something she had long learned applied to humans too.

Appraisal of such a thing would be done in silence, only but a shiver moving over digits now and again, peepers traveling over frame. The scent of the tobacco filled her nostrils with every inhales, mixing in with the salt charged wind that picked at her greasy locks of mane,.

Eyes of the man were hidden behind lenses, something that Greed detested, having her fix the mirrors of it before ravaged lips parted "Family and Demons make der Home der.

Ya might meet many Family came and went around the corner of city. The rest of his words would have her incline her head slightly before she rasped out, hoarse tone carrying queries "Ya didn't come to find da Demons but ya be looking for somet'ing" she states, the words holding the certainty she always gave to her beliefs.

Fixing mismatched gaze on features, steps drew her closer as she spoke in hoarse whispers "Der be somet'ing A tenseness she associated with her usual beliefs of all having Demons within themselves that too many keep trapped.

She seemed like someone from supernatural movie that crawled right out of the screen and into the real world. As his cigar was low he'd drop it to the ground and stomp it out.

Narrowing his eyes at the woman he'd lift himself to his feet and pull off his sunglasses letting his silver orbs rest on the woman clearly.

He had been restraining something and only two people have seen that beast inside him. Was she spying on him? Ram was becoming even more cautious now, his hand would fall to rest on his knife but he neither unsnapped it's restraints nor gave any sign that he was going to pull it out.

Same soles anchoring themselves to concrete and pulling the man to full height of frame. Drop of hand would be noticed, a gesture long seen.

A sign for many. The gesture coming with not pull of the blade, however, would have her focus return to the words spoken. Heels so rarely worn offered at least on advantage, when perched upon them, mismatched gaze were able to better sight features and gaze revealed at the lift of glasses.

Diving into the silver pools, the Demon listening in attentively to words, pairing them to reaction, letting them tell her of the truth of own words.

The sentiment would bring elation, ravaged lips slowly pulling into grin, revealing the rows of rotten enamel beneath.

Soot and blood painted features in proximity, putrid breath would whisper "I watc' and see all in city" murmurs holding true beliefs to them as Sisters and her held the disillusions the decaying eye they took from the.

Emerald and Gold of her eyes latched upon the Silvers of one's own, fixing them with devouring interest as she murmured "Wat be it dat has ya caging it?

He didn't get a chance to do this upon first meeting in the cells as her appearance and her scent drove him from even locking eyes with her. But now he was paranoid.

The fact she knew he had something inside he hated made him suspicious. His fingers would curl around the handle of his blade but still he wouldn't draw it.

As time progressed he was eyeing her face and all the markings on it. He would take note of her teeth and the rotting smell emanating from her.

Ram was already planning what he could do to silence the girl Sighing he shut his eyes for a moment and shook his head before opening them again.

Not something that normal folks should see Violence that so often rocked her with needs was a call she understood all too well.

Pupils would, for a few seconds, drown irises in black as the sensation acted upon her almost like a drug. Raggedly breathing, she took in the emotion with a violent passing of elation before her focus fully returned to words being spoken.

She could see him slowly taking on her frame, her face, the marks of violence and wars that made Greed who she were and yet His face softened, words spoken next stating of the restraints he needed to display.

The knowledge that anyone who restrain themselves for her could only but conjure the loud sound of mirth, the rough texture of laugh cascading past maw.

Emotion so sincere had the oddity upon head sway dangerously as she seemed to be truly gripped by the expression of glee.

After a few seconds had passed, some semblance of a breath would be caught, making for raspy and.

Soot covered and scars marked, one of her hand would attempt to lift to man's shoulder, coming to rest upon it if allowed as she would draw her face closer.

It would be to his ear, however, that she would try and lean to whisper "Wat does yer Demon need?

Mine always wants more. It wakes me in the morning wit blood on mah hands and it wants me to seek more of it.

It has me delirious wit pleasure when I split flesh open and reveal wat be beneat'. It demands for me to take all I desire, all dat time.

And it never grows tired. It always wants more and more and more and more I give it all it desires. All I desire. I keep it strong His hand on his knife would begin shaking as he was fighting the urge to pull it out and stab the woman.

As her raspy voice whispered into his ear he took in every word. He had heard the women address each other in the cells but it never clicked then until now.

His hand would stop shaking and he lowered his silvers looking down at her face. He had already taken in the markings and rotting teeth and the scent but strangely enough he wasn't bothered by it.

He wouldn't normally open up to anyone but he felt this woman understood. It wants to rape and torture them Goosebumps would rise from his skin as he spoke openly about the thing he was keeping at bay.

Beneath her palm she could feel the form losing some of its shudders and tenseness as, finally, the words poured free. Spoken without restraints.

Confessing of his sins. And Greed collected all of them, possessively, seeming enthralled by ever new deviance revealed, breathing pushing past cracked and broken lips.

An incline of her head would be made as he described all of needs, the movements having crown of thorns dig deeper into scalp, conjuring a flesh trail of crimson to slowly follow the counter of her brow, glide upon her cheek, take the curve of jaw and drown in mess of moss mane.

The reaction his body had to the description of his needs would not be noticed, having Greed's lips pull in a sliver of grin before she would lift hand from shoulder.

The callused texture of palm would attempt to cradled the stubble covered jaw, cradling it as she have name to the Sin "Wrat' Instead praising the sin identified and hidden within.

After few moments of silence, murmurs arose again "It be too beautiful a Demon to be kept caged. Why do ya do it?

The query would linger between two, gaze burning in intensity as she observed the silver pools, diving in their depths. Her smile put him off his game this was for sure.

He had no idea why he was being so open with the woman. It wasn't until she said wrath that he shook his head. He would be there during it's actions but it always felt like he was sitting in a theatre watching a movie.

He turned his head completely as she asked why he'd keep it restrained and would take a slight step back removing his hand from his knife.

I can't let something like that run wild I know many women If it was free I'm sure they would be in danger I can't let that happen It is being fed.

Violence and dominance and pain. It be wat it desires" the Demon keeping words of entity as separate for now, same as one had.

Funnily enough, with beliefs of cult and freeing so many, Greed had soon acquired skills that therapist and shrinks might have too. It were felt that the man was not ready yet to acknowledge the truth.

The Demon was not another being separated from him. He was the Demon. Seeing distance being made between frames and the words spoken next, brows would furrow and, it would be at that part of the discourse that shrinks and the Demon parted ways.

For one would offer drugs to dull the needs and techniques of restraints. That were not the gospel Greed preached. Instead rasps of her voice arose once more,.

Perhaps not today but something certain to linger. As if Greed truly had seen it. What he had done. Truth were, she had heard so many speak of it.

Of how they combat the needs. Hold it back and It takes over. It devours ya. Ya put ones ya wish to protect even in bigger danger Speaking truth of words and yet Her tone betrayed there were something.

Something more she wasn't telling him yet. Giving a sigh he nodded. She made sense, as much he hated to admit it she made way more sense than the VA doctors and psychologists did when getting him to talk.

It made sense He was silent for a long moment before finally speaking out. I have medication but I don't wanna take them I wanna know how to deal with this The acknowledgment of help needed were a sign in itself.

Of one accepting. Of Gospel taking roots. Following the frame as it settled back upon the bike, Greed would turn to face him, vibrant intensity in gaze fixed on the locks slanted Silvers.

Devour ya. Den ya gotta learn to devour wit it. To give it wat it needs. Keep it sated. Find ones dat are not close to ya.

Dat do not matter to ya and use dem for its needs. Give yer Demon wat it desires, keeping it well fed. Awaiting to see with curiosity what reactions would be gained from words.

Demon always knew two kind: ones that accepted the truth and ones that fought it and what they were. He lifted himself from the bike again and sighed.

He would then close his eyes for long moments as he thought quietly to himself. He still kept his eyes shut as he spoke.

Hid right hand would then pull his knife from it's sheath and would raise the blade letting her see the dried dark blood on the blade.

Full of dreams Looking up to the sky he would lick his lips before returning his gaze back to Esmeralda. I want to show these little bitches their place I want to them to know that they were born for a specific reason He was biting so hard now that blood was forming around his teeth.

His hand with the knife would raise and he'd press his wrist to his eyes then groan shaking his head. It had been unexpected but Esmeralda was not speaking to Ram at that point.

How last his Demon had been freed. What it had been fed. Seeing how it animated him. The powers the memories had upon him. The fierceness of the statements and, finally, the blood to be drawn as silence captured him.

If one expected a saving grace, a helping hand out of the path of insanity, then one had come to the wrong person.

No, there were no disgust or rebuttal at the words. Instead Demon listened in rapt attention, features a mast of avid interest.

Ravenous elation. Lips parting in slight and ragged breathing, gaze zeroed upon the blade and crimson displayed, letting the visions of it all take over.

Lust were usually a dormant Demon for Greed for it awakened solely upon specifics demands: violence and dominance she forced upon others.

So tale made called to many of her Demons, having her frame shivering slightly, digits barely contained at side. She wanted to reach for own weapons.

Own needs. For, while the sentiments rocked her frame and played high with emotions, control did not sleep. Demon kept herself and needs well sated.

Instead, gradually, her whispers would arise, breathy, a sign of the sensations that ran through her "It has to be fed" she whispers with a finality that bored no arguments "It has to be given wat it needs and between one of yer own or a stranger Da choice be easy, isn't it?

Guilt will have ya t'ink of caging it and it will control ya den. Guilt doesn't serve ya, it cages ya. A few moments of silence would pass before she would state, the words explaining the situation in words that left but two choices "It will always need and will never leave.

Eit'er ya feed it and lose guilt dat cages ya or Ya put end to yer own life, taking da Demon wit ya. Greed knew very well of truth in what she were sharing.

Ones did not accept her words easily or right away but she knew. Whatever came of today, her words would remain with the man.

Slow moving poison that would free him one way or another. Either with Death or Acceptance. Growling softly under his breath he'd open his eyes letting his silvers fall upon the woman.

She knew her shit. He couldn't argue that, nor did he want to. She made too much sense, but he wanted to test it.

He'd give her a smile as his body would rush forward to close the small gap between them with his movement he'd attempted to use his left hand to grab for the woman's throat.

If she would allow it, he wasn't trying to hurt her or apply any pressure just testing the waters as he always did. He wanted to see the woman's reactions, if she knew any sort of fear.

He wanted to find out what sound she'd make with his fingers around her throat. However, if she dodged he would simply stop in his track and begin chuckling.

In the many words spoken, in the many visions of events and how one was enticed and lured to free itself, always in the possibilities this one had lingered.

That Demon once freed would turn back upon Greed. Alike the coiled and frightened animal that went for what were nearest.

Therefore it would not be a surprise to her when the hand would lift and coil forward, closing around her throat even if, reflex, had her start.

Instead, it would be elation that split her soot and blood covered visage. Vibrant and strong, having her shudder with the strength of it as gaze burned brightly in depths of orbits.

One that chose to follow Demon could only awaken such an emotion. Demented extent of grin would peel and reveal rotten rows of enamel as rasps of putrid breath would part from her maw, slightly strained depending on the pressure put upon throat "I be not beautiful.

The words would hang between the two as she looked upon the man with the intensity of gaze, returning to him the words. Ones, silly ones, could see in the words fishing for compliments, perhaps, but those indeed would be silly.

The words held many truth. First in physical aspect itself. Beneath soot the visage held a ravaged display of scars. Burn on her left cheek, broken nose and crooked, sunken cheekbone on right cheek, rotten enamel, stench of her breath and frame, greasy mane, scars upon scars upon scars Beauty could never be used to describe the Demon.

Other truth were more than skin deep. The Demon was not a beautiful being. She was a foul, greedy, violent, demented deviant.

There were nothing to destroy. Nothing to mark. Only elation to be gained from deviance displayed. And last but not least of truth came final one. She were not beautiful or innocent.

She were not a prey to hunt upon. Demon had spoken of family and own deviance. This were not one that would be a hunt without a price.

The weight of the words might be all captured or completely missed, gaze burning with the many. In kind it would seek to close around throat of other.

Callused flesh did not hold on too tightly, instead the metallic nails upon fingers closing on almost tenderly over the extent of neck if allowed.

Features taking on an almost adoring expression in their mask of ravaged state as she peered upwards to the Silvers of gaze. His fingers applied slight pressure around her flesh.

He let his eyes move over her features and noted that marking this one would be worthless. He had a fond respect for the woman over how she accepted his actions.

His smirk would form into a smile as his wilver orbs fell to her raised hand as it would close around his own throat. Feeling her talons pressing against his skin he wouldn't move away.

He'd slide his knife back into it's sheath. His features were nothing compared to her's he didn't have a scar on his face He continued chuckling as his eyes stayed locked on hers.

Lips pulling wider. Pure elation coursed through her frame at the acceptance the movements displayed. Of how one understood all the Demon had spoken.

All she had revealed. Digits would release her throat but the emotion of avid interest and pride remained. Truth were, if one had not lowered their palm, if one had continued actions, it would never had truly been alike what he had done to others.

The Demon would be too pleased by the events, by the release of the needs, that the altercation would have been willing one.

A violent, combative, blood drawing meeting of bodies, likely to awaken own Demons, but one that would have been were elation and satiation would have been gained.

In such a state of fervent elation, it would take seconds minutes? For the movements of release and the sheathing of knife to be noticed.

The raising of palms and the. Take all dat ya be Yet, they held no edge to them, no threat. Simply baring of own needs before she murmured "Because I keep mah Demon free.

Because I feed it. I am able to stop mahself from it. Fixing Silvers with Emerald and Gold she goes on "It allows mah to see dat potential in ya.

Free ya. Bring ya to be all ya should be After long seconds she would question "Will ya hunt? Will ya seek one to sate its needs?

To give yer Demon somet'ing to feed? He was never afraid of dying. A Soldier can't be afraid of dying.

He shivered at her words. The actions flashed in his mind almost as if he was doing it himself. Though it wasn't the kill that he enjoyed.

He loved the torture He loved seeing the fear and pain in the eyes of his victims, he loved seeing them writhe and struggle to escape as he played with them.

I wouldn't mind seconds She was delicious Own display of mirth would come, lips stretching her curling as she rasped out in return "If I were to give ya somet'ing, it would not be da same.

Straightening slightly, body all wired with sensations of elation, call of voice would be made, low whispers as she stated "Do not wait for it to be starving once more to feed it.

Start hunting for wat ya need. And once ya have sated it a few times, come find mah again. The statements would be only warning of departure, Greed never one for social standards of actually announcing her leave.

Once all she. Turning upon heels, unless halted, Demon of Greed would move away and head to buildings close by, the city soon capturing her foul frame and disappearing in it with ease.

Even as she began walking away he continued to watch her. As she finally vanished from sight he turned to his saddle bag and would reach into it.

Pulling out a mask he'd stare at it and smile. It was the mask he had for the special occasion he had planned for Ophelia Chuckling he'd lift his head back in the direction Esme had disappeared before sliding the mask over his face.

He jerked his body upward, grabbed my ankles and held my calves together before pulling them straight. My ankles rested over one of his shoulders, my ass almost off the bed as he allowed his weight to push my thighs backward.

Back some more. And more. Putting them in sharp relief but keeping my legs closed and tight against his body. The wings of my cunt were sealed between the juncture of my legs and his cock had to slam past them, meeting more than my usual resistance.

I grabbed my breasts, lifting my bottom, his fingers gouging into my ankles. He moved his head. Kissed the inside of my arch, licked the tips of my toes as he buried his cock deep inside the cradle of my pussy.

He rubbed me inside, a rapturous friction that started at my slit and funneled to my core. His cock moved harder, faster, in between my clasped thighs.

You could hear my juices. The suction of a tight drive. He groaned at the sound and I knew it was music to his ears. His shaft was like wet marble and growing with the need to explode.

I licked my sore lips and grinned into the dark as he grunted with his next thrust into the restrained confines of my cunt, his full-to-bursting sacks pummeling my ass.

Spill in me, flood me! I could hear his teeth grinding as he pried my legs apart. He kept me spanned like a butterfly, elbows on the insides of my knees, while he put his full weight on my open thighs.

Down he drilled into my body, relentless. The delicate petals crushed. The fucking bordering on pain. His hands found my throat and I understood.

He DID miss me. Needed me. But much more. I had given him my woes in wordless tears. Now he was giving me his. Not as a punishment, but as a release and I trusted him to use every part of me, down to own my very breath.

I came with his thumbs on either side of my windpipe, his teeth in my shoulder. The strained air made the climax more intense. Touchable with my mind…my heart.

I soared as he bellowed. His orgasm ripping through him, his hands easing from my neck. He kept me pinned while his back flexed, his sweating skin stretching over his jerking muscles.

I could see the sheen in the light, feel the hottest floods of cum shooting into my pussy. I did not sleep in a gown.

Shrouded in blankets. I did not wake alone in the dark. I was no longer lost, hugging pillows and waiting for sleep. Papi was home. The sheets smelled of sex.

His skin was my blanket. And all was once again right in our world. I Missed you, Papi. No, she rarely did.

Demented Demon knew, however. She knew of the importance of leaving one to those long hours and days of solitude between visits. With the sun heating up the roof of the house and the humidity of the swamp, the shack was growing scorchingly hot.

With little food and water, wounds of the past few days, the long hours were an integral part of the overall grind on the girl's mind. One that the mossy haired intended to further push with actions of days but not simple those.

In her insanity she had long learned of the importance of control and patience. To continue to slowly push the girl towards what they aimed, then it would take time.

Pleased at the prospect, her soles beat heavily on the wooden planks as she enters, bringing in with her usual stench of decaying flesh and bogged water.

In her hand she carried a brown paper bag that seemed to be soiled at the bottom, filled with many things. Looking up, her emerald and.

Much like last time, she would come to her haunches near the bars, peering inside the cage, letting fevered gaze seek the girl's frames and features.

Example sentences from the Web for gripping The second pitfall is that Tendulkar has given the reader little of what should be a gripping , meaningful story of his life.

The Sheriff of Badger George B. The Woman from Outside Hulbert Footner. Quiet Talks with World Winners S. Motor Matt's Race Stanley R.

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