I need your comfort
Wrap me in security
*Pinterest image, source unknown
You are intrigued by her disordered lingerie drawer. You are more aroused by Dare’s lingering essence that is captured in great concentration among her clothes. Afraid of more distraction, you hurriedly pick out what you are looking for and gently close the cabinet. Dare listens acutely to every movement and you see the tension in the elegant curvature of her neck, the rigid arch of her back and the erect peaks of her nipples straining the black lace dress.
You toss the mystery items onto the bed and guide Dare to stand up, pressing the length of her body against yours. You want her to feel the desire in your uneven breathing and the rigidity of the muscle in your jeans. Her need for comfort is palpable as you watch a tear escape her closed lids. You capture the saline pearl with your lips, tasting her grief and need and lust in the elixir. You wrap your arms around Dare, holding her securely and tightly. You know she is gallantly trying to hold in her emotions and that is not something you gleaned from Jace. Her set jaw and the determination in her stance not to melt into you tell you all you need to know.
“Keep your eyes closed, Dare,” you command as your fingers guide the hem of her dress over her hips, breasts and head. Your resolve to take things slowly with Dare is staunchly tempted as you admire every inch of her stunning body. She shivers; her pebbled nipples invite you to share your heat. Your mouth ghosts over her flesh; your hot breath taking her to the edge of anticipation and desire. Your fingertips graze over the roundness of her hips as you reach around her to pick up the black fabric from the bed.
“Please forgive me,” you whisper as you bring it against her body.
***If you have missed any of the installments, I have created a “Danger of a Dare” page that hosts the entire story as I add to it.
I have a confession to make. I never graduated from college. I quit near the end of my junior year. I sometimes think I regret that decision, then I attempt “assignments” like this one from Writing 101:Be Brief and I realize that I am not a very good student … at all. The following piece is 250 words … brief for me.
I attempted to tap into my words this morning, hoping the one night’s stay in my personal ditch of pity was enough to unclog my creative pathways. I approached the door to Dare’s bedroom, excited to be a voyeur into an intimate union. All I encountered was a closed door with a sign that boldly stated, “Do Not Disturb”.
Refusing to be deterred, I headed to my dining room to collect a bottle for my next oceanic message. I was dumbfounded to find that the bottles had been broken and the scattered shards mocked my writing aspirations. Defeat was whispering in my ear but I stomped my bare feet in stubborn defiance and headed down the boardwalk to the beach, hoping to find a treasure among the scattered sea shells. Of course, I choose a morning that is awe-inspiring in its beauty, but the shore is barren of all shells. The gentle waves lick the sand clean, whisking away my hope to rediscover my voice, hoarse with strangled emotion.
I turn, head hung with eyes shielded from public view. That is when it blew across my path. A crumpled piece of paper, tattered by the saline breeze. I grasp it with trembling fingers and read:
The masculine scrawl does not indicate its intended recipient, so I claim this romantically penned note as my own. Sometimes, all we need is a little hope … and greed.
*image courtesy of North Carolina’s Brunswick Islands
Photo taken during sunrise on 9/19/2014
I vanish from view
Invisible to your words
Broken is my heart
*tumblr image found at the monochrome id
*written as a katauta
My lack of response for today’s Writing 101: Serially Lost assignment. I am at a loss for words today. I looked at this assignment and my heart literally sank. Talk about more loss, again? Two days in a row? I felt my heart harden; the walls of my internal Panic Room slammed shut with no access in or out. I don’t even think air can infiltrate my defenses right now. The tears are shuttered behind my lids of cement.
I have approached the subject of “loss” from various perspectives, hoping to trick my mind into letting me write. The thought of loss of virginity was most entertaining, but my heart felt that to be even too much of breach into my emotions and past. Discussing the loss of anything less valuable than a baby, or a soul mate, or husband/best friend/lover seems too much of an insult to those that I’ve loved and truly lost. But yet, today, I cannot find the words to adequately portray the losses I’ve experienced and the impact they have had on me.
We are all familiar with loss, in some degree or another. We have lost material possessions that cause inconceivable inconveniences. We have lost dignity, grace, and confidence. We have lost games, contests and sports matches that have made us angry or weep. We have lost relationships that have shaped us for good and bad. We have lost love that sometimes we celebrate but most often than not we mourn. We have lost human connections, born and unborn, that grieve us so deeply it leaves permanent grooves upon our souls. And currently, I’m lying in one of those damned ditches reliving the heartbreak but with no words to share it. Maybe I will soon, but not today.
You step forward and support each foot on your thigh as you slowly peel her knee-high boots from her smooth, shapely legs. You do not hide your desire for the beauty as you let your fingers caress her skin from knee to delicate arch. You are intrigued by the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickens. You move between her bare legs and tilt her chin up so her gaze meets yours. Her grief melts into a caramel pool of wanton desire, tempting you to taste her carnal delights. She has no idea she has been the sole focus of your dreams for many months now. But your fantasies did not do Dare justice. The warmth radiating from her core has you straining to resist the instinct to roughly claim the alluring woman before you.
Your hand sweeps her hair from the nape of her neck, causing her skin to prickle with anticipation. Your calloused palm grips her firmly, but you are careful not to mar or bruise her. “Close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?” You watch as her pupils dilate with surprise and arousal.
She slowly licks her lips, as if she is enjoying her very own unique taste. She offers you a saucy smirk, “Yes, Sir.” You see green fire flicker in her eyes before her lids close, depriving you of the visual pleasure. With palm cupping her neck, your mouth claims hers in raw, animalistic need. You feel the urgency to unite with this exquisite woman and you allow that urge to take you both to the edge of breath deprivation before you pull away. Her whimper makes you smile as you suppress your own growl, forcing yourself to control your ragged breathing. You back away from Dare and the bed, watching her eyes to see how obedient she intends to be for you. When you are confident that she is currently submersed in her pool of desire, you turn to the dresser and begin opening drawers, searching for the items you need.