friday fictioneers fun with word play!

Alone at last, their bass nature took over and was reveled in.
Their heart strings tugged at one another with the intertwining of sinew and gut that can only come from a curt, vile cacophony of metered out sympathetic vibration born of lust and need.
They needed no rosin for their actions, just each other, attuned as they were to the diminuendo and crescendo of their bodies: this was no cupboard love; it was orchestrated by a higher power.
They bowed to one another, civility winning over strung out nerves and half sated bodies.


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