Hey, come here.
I have something to tell you. A secret.
Closer! I won’t bite.
*grins* Unless you like it.
Every other day, the click-clack of my heels announced my arrival down the long tiled floors of the auditorium. Every other day, the young man in the third row center followed my entrance into the lecture hall from the moment I opened the door. Every other day, I wondered why it always made me start, when I caught his gaze and returned his curiosity.
His eyes were the pale blue of the sky reflecting upon the emerald green of the salted ocean waters. And his stare, that is all one could call it, was disconcerting. It bordered on rudeness, but somehow, it wasn’t. As I lectured, the same lecture to the same faceless seniors on the same day of every new collegiate year, I wandered in and out of the calm cool pools that were his eyes. He watched me: never smiling, never responding, never flirtatious. In the beginning, I was almost alarmed by his seemingly cold superiority and then I felt confronted, confused, upset and finally………..the challenge set the tempo.
He never responded; he just slipped the hypnotic stare of his gaze under my skin to crawl its way to my stomach and the soft receptive folds of my center. Every other day, he unnerved me more. The magnetic rapture of his steely blue eyes were made only stronger by the dark frame of his black eyelashes. I could drown in those eyes.
Even before the click-clack of my heels announced my arrival down the long tiled floors of the auditorium, I felt a passion build inside my body as the swagger of my thighs focused the heat upon the pearl of my existence. That excitement was unlocked at the moment his gaze weaved its way to my trembling core. I could not wait to see him; every other day, I thought about him as I showered, rubbing the poof across my body, water caressing every curve I wanted his hands to explore, his mouth to devour, his eyes to memorize. My nipples reached for a caress as the soft mound where my thighs met trembled in anticipation.
The click-clack of my heels announced my arrival down the long tiled floors of the auditorium . His gaze stopped my breath until I had a moment to regain my composure. His ice blue stare grabbed my gaze, holding my passions hostage to a calm exterior. His eyes followed me everywhere as I lectured the faceless audience. He took notes on his laptop without ever releasing me to look elsewhere. I felt the perspiration bead on my forehead and between my breasts, pooling at the underwire of my bra causing a tickle as it escaped by cleave of my belly to the heat of my obsession.
I could no longer resist. I must know the source of his hold, the well-spring of his power over me.
“Mr. Emery, please remain after lecture.”
“Yes, Ms. Blanchard.” And it struck me; I had never heard his voice. The seduction was complete. His voice was a velvet cover in which his ardor wrapped me. Oh, how I imagined his breath upon the small of my neck, commanding softly my every will through his demanding lips on my flesh. This was our destiny……….I was ready.
“Mr. Emory,” his very name rolling off of my tongue felt like a kiss, “please come down here to me…………………”
“Yes, Ms. Blanchard. Would you please help me? I am blind, you see…………………”
Oh Muffy, that was great! You sucked me into the passion and promise…that was all on her side. Delightfully sensual and I loved the twist.
Thank you, Dianne. He didn’t move me until dinner tonight as my husband and I sat, ate and shared our thoughts through a connected stare over roast pork. Then, it sank me….What if my passion for this man wasn’t so easy, so reciprocated? Oh, the pain of being a prisoner of our own passions……………..:) xo
Wow. That’s why I leave the writing up to those of you with the talent. All I could think of was “Take your shirt off!”. ;_
Kim, that i so kind of you to say, but for the longest time, all I could think of was “Take off your shirt”, too!!!!:) xo
Mail (will not be published) (required)
Powered by WordPress and WordPress Theme created with Artisteer.