I gave her some money and she stepped out of the car to buy some cigarettes. Crossing through the beams of my headlights, she struck a pose as if she was on stage. Her eyes squinted and her mouth drew into a devilish smile as she lifted her shirt above her breasts. They were small and perky and she had stopped wearing a bra when she learned how much it turned me on to see her nipples poking through anything she wore. She danced for me, shirt in mouth, arms above her head, hips gyrating, mouth open in a silent laugh. There were people in the parking lot, but neither of us cared. ...
slow draw the breath taking an eternity filling his chest
then a blink setting off the departure a droplet decades in the making
on its way three hundred feet to the ground reflecting not just the light but also the shades from the peak at each point of reflection before hitting the rock bottom with a velocity and weight of a wartime projectile
There’s a ubiquitous stain throughout the house, in every room. A brown sepia that comes from the fires blazing over the low summits of hills from the coastline on a regular basis. The windows are perpetually shut tight but still the stench of burnoff seeps in. The ocean’s sea breeze has long become a wet-dream memory.
Supper has long gone cold and sits abandoned in the small gas stove. It’s been an hour since she drew herself a bath only to lay her bareness across the double bed; its sheets disheveled and matted from the morning’s...
The chauffeur pulled onto a tree lined private paved road. She had time to think along the stretch of mile ride.
Zaniyah was still chagrined her father requested her presence.
For once would the man just allow her to grow up she thought?
The chauffeur pulled the vehicle in front of a four story limestone mansion. He rested the engine, unsnapped his seatbelt and opened the door. He stepped out the Mercedes limousine and pushed the door close
Gossamer, dream-like, your fingers dance, lithe and feathery as a cloud, across the humming harp strings of my body. With the sacrament of your touch, my spirit sighs. My desire forms my response in the shape of my hand arcing gently down your spine. How I long to breathe your redolent perfume, like the aroma of bloody red wine, to linger wrapped in your silent embrace, until the stars overhead wax rhapsodic echoed by our duet of dulcet warbles until we find a sort of freedom, in which love can grow, only to hear your soft whisper echoing across the chambers of...