She looked more of a jeunesse doree with panties, who needed a guyliner to negate her antithetical position while she seemed to revel in the company of a man clothed as of a baroque eruption. The redolent of his earthiness as unto an anodyne for his palaver had no promise of surcease much to the anger of her keeper, the retrofit, who was true to his quondam status of a vigilante. The noble looks occasionally seemed to twitch and it signaled the keeper with the curt imprimatur to provide to administer what seemed like a prophylactic to dispel the panoply of bacteria this meretricious dude may transfer as his overtures were predictably physical in nature.
Though moniker less his narrative arc was quintessentially directed to her sclerotic attitudes and ossified notions and seemed to equip her noble position with a portmanteau status thus providing her with a larger bandwidth to operate on.
She had by now, to the dismay of his keeper, seemed to forswear the cerebral and embrace the visceral. A sudden epiphany seemed to encourage her to desert her antediluvian noble stature and rush towards the dwellings of a troglodyte. And in this she found a catharsis and delved in the seminal pleasure to pursue his thesis of life. This arbitrage of earning a wealth of happiness as she laid down her nobility to surcease seemed to give her a hammock under her heart