You Swore You'd Never Tell…

Another day, another anonymous contest on Alison Tyler's blog. These are such fun. This one was about kissing, so needless to say I couldn't resist writing up a little something. Last time, I won. This time, I was equal 4th. Not bad, I think. There were some really kick-ass entries. Check them all out here.

Here is my story, Say It Again.

The bedroom wall in my back, your thigh between my legs. Your lips pushed mine, pulled mine, opened mine. The warm, wet slip of your tongue against me. It was a true, possessive kiss. My hands around your neck, I wanted you deeper. But, you pulled back, barely touching your lips to mine. Your hands on either side of my face, reducing me to whimpers and moans. Softly begging for another crush of your mouth, another taste of you. I licked your bottom lip, but you just smiled. A few seconds ticked by, neither of us moved.

"Fuck, just kiss me."

It was all I could say. You gave me another smile.

You knew what you did to me. You were proud. The first time you kissed me, I knew it was all over. I would never fully recover. But, I kept thinking, in time, it would change. It wouldn’t hit me so hard every time you ran your finger slowly over my bottom lip. That the taste of your mouth wouldn’t turn my guts to jelly forever. I thought I’d get used to you, someday. But, that day still hadn’t come. I had come to realize it probably never would. You pressed your thumb on my chin, opening my mouth just a bit more. You stared at my lips, devouring me with your eyes before your mouth had the chance.

"Say it again."
"Fuck, just kiss me."

I See You Shiver With Antici... pation!

I'm nervous. I don't want to be, but I am. My stomach has been in knots all day; the tension at times overwhelming.

My mouth is dry. No matter how many times I wet my lips, it's not enough. I can't think. My thoughts won't stick around long enough to make sense. Each time I try and grab one, it's gone before I can reach it.

I'm sweating. My back coated, my hair stuck to my neck in clumps. The air won't move, won't give me any relief. Breathing slowly, my heart still races, still pounds against my chest in a dangerous rhythm.

I don't know how much longer I can wait; how much longer I can let the anticipation course through me. Curling and uncurling my fists, I feel like I'm plugged into a current. I look at the clock, but time hasn't moved much at all. I'm still waiting.

Just do it; just do something already. I don't think I can last much longer. . . .

I Sign I Sign I Sign Anonymous

Recently, Alison Tyler had a contest on her blog to post an anonymous story of about 250 words based on a post-it (pictured here) from the fabulous Naked Chicks on Post-Its. I couldn't resist having a go at this.

And, lucky me, I was voted the winner of the contest, with a staggering 19 out of 69 votes. I figured now that it was all out in the open I would share the story with you as well. Please to Enjoy!!

***

Untitled (Working title from blog: A Good Boy)

She just laid there, staring at me. My hands were still secured to the bedposts, my cock still hard. But, she just leaned there, gently running her hand up her thigh. I longed to touch her, but I couldn't. This torture had been my idea, but now I was getting fed up with her games. I reached out my foot and touched the curve of her calf, but she pulled away. I sighed and struggled against her favorite silk scarves to no avail. She smiled at me.

“Don’t be so impatient.”

“I’m not impatient, I’m pissed off.”

Her hand reached out for my chest and ran up over my ribs. Her face was once again close, our lips so nearly touching. I lifted my head just in time for her to move away. She smiled as I sank back in defeat. She let her nipples brush over the hair on my chest. I tried to lay still, to be a good sport, but it wasn't exactly my strong suit. Her hand played over my leg, my stomach. Her breath was back tickling my lips, and again I strained to taste her mouth.

This time she took pity on me, letting her lips fall onto mine. She pushed my head back onto the pillow with her kiss. I felt just the tip of her finger graze the head of my cock, but I kept my hips still.

“Are you going to be a good boy this time?”

“Yes. I promise.”

***
What do you think, should I keep going?

In The He Said, She Said, Sometimes There's Some Poetry

"You must be quite a romantic." "Were you a literature major in school?" "Interesting collection, kind of all over the place."

That is what some of my yard sale customers said to me yesterday. After perusing my book piles, they had each come to a simple conclusion. Just by looking at my discarded tomes, they had seen enough to think they knew all about me. (Oddly enough, I wasn't a lit major.) They were pretty close to the mark. I know most people don't like to admit it, but what we own does say so much about us.

I am hopeless. A Hopeless romantic. No matter how I try to hide it, the truth does lie in everything I own. The movies, the books, the music. All of them reveal my not-so-dirty little secret. I do love a good love story. All kinds; from the classic to the unconventional. All over that yard sale table was the evidence of my predilection for the all encompassing emotion of love. In all it's forms, functions and foibles.

I'm happy that my favorite stories are out there, making other people fall for them too. Seems only fair to let others enjoy what has brought me so much happiness. I wish my books luck in their new homes. May they become a small part of who their owners are. A small window into their souls. Baring that, I hope they keep the table leg straight.

Lids Down, I Count Sheep, I Count Heartbeats

Between a bout of illness, working and my usual late night routine, my sleep schedule has been totally crazy. A sore throat and running nose kept me up feeling miserable early in the week. Then, even when I managed to start feeling better, coughing and sneezing fits would hit me just before I settled to sleep. My body has turned fickle in my (new) old age. I didn't get to sleep before 4am all week.

I thought I was better, I thought I was over it. I wasn't. Last night, my leg started to hurt. My feet were cold. A killer line to a story would go strolling by, and need to be written down. Had to get up twice to take medicine. Rolling over to look at the clock, 3:53AM staring back at me. And, I was getting up early to watch Footy. I have to get up early tomorrow for Yard Sale 2: Buy My Crap, Please!!

So, yesterday, I had to do something I love to do, but don't do nearly enough . . .nap. (What did you think I was going to say, dirty birds?) Yesterday afternoon, with the dimming sun streaming through the shades, I napped. It was a glorious lie-in; a beautiful, snuggly two hours well spent. I'm going to do it again today, as soon as I get this finished. I can only hope that today's nap lives up to yesterday's high standards.

So, I'm off to Snoozy-Town, with a full belly and a happy head. Wish me luck selling more crap tomorrow. Have a great weekend, all!!

Old Age is Just Around the Bend, I Can't Wait to Go Gray

I'm 32 today. I prefer to think of it as my Sweet Sixteen x 2, but who are we kidding? I'm reminded of a great line from When Harry Met Sally that I thought was appropriate.

Sally: And, I'm going to be 40.
Harry: When?
Sally: Someday. . .
Harry: In eight years!
Sally: But it's there.

I'm off to make a wish!!
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Working Hard to Get My Fill, Everybody Wants a Thrill

I know it sounds silly, but I believe that the mere act of talking about things can make them happen. Okay, maybe not big things, or particularly interesting things. But things none the less. I can quote an episode of the Simpsons and no more than 48 hours later, it will be on television. I can mention a person in passing, and they will call or turn up no more than a week hence.

Of course, it has never worked on big things, like winning the lottery or being offered a book deal. But, every time I lose hope in my ability, something will happen to turn me back into a believer. For those who don't know, I've been obsessed with seeing a certain AFL player without a shirt on. And, no, I don't think obsessed is too strong a word. His reluctance to do so has driven me mad for months. But, I never stopped hoping it would happen.

Well, never let it be said that I lack powers. Useless as they may be, this weekend, they have made me very happy. While I don't take credit for the act itself, I do take credit for the universe bringing it to me. The real heroes are those tireless folks at Hot Aussie Footy Players Shirtless. The name says it all, doesn't it? Their efforts have made my life a little brighter many times, but never more so than a few days ago. So, thanks. You'll never know what it means to me.

It was worth the wait, don't you think?

What The Hell is ADD?

If someone could please tell me where my focus goes when it leaves me, I would be eternally grateful. I swear, I'm just having a hell of a time keeping track of myself lately. Which is bad, because I have a lot to do.

My house is a wreck, I've got another yard sale looming, deadlines, a birthday, too much to think about. Thus, I can't keep anything at the front of my mind for more than a few minutes. Even posting this is taxing me at the moment. But, it is late, and I should be in bed. But, I won't be for a while.

Hope your weekend is swell, mine looks to be hell.

Wish I were Here!!

Make A Break, Another Escape

I take my laptop everywhere, in the hopes that when the mood strikes I can get some writing done. I did the same thing this weekend, when I headed to the homestead for a wedding. But, between everything I had to do, and everything I ended up doing, very little writing was done. I could blame the bride and groom, or my niece's affinity for carousels. But, there is really only one big culprit for my distraction this weekend. Men in tiny shorts.

I am a big fan of Australian Rules Football, and this weekend started the finals. That's Australian for playoffs. My team, the Geelong Cats finished the season 21-1. Guess who was lucky enough to fly all the way to Australia to see them lose that game? That's right, ME!! I know there are those out there who share my love of the game (Craig, I'm looking at you!) But, I think I can safely say that, while we both love the game, I love it for one extra reason. The players are hot, you see. They spend all their time running around in minimal clothing with some of the best bodies in sports. And, in the case of my Cats this weekend, in the rain. It is sometimes too much for a girl to handle!

So, as my Cats were victorious this weekend, they get the week off. Thank God. Maybe now I can get back to work. While they are distracting, they can also prove very inspirational.

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*Kathryn, I'm sorry I forgot you! It was late, forgive me. This one is for you!

Don't Be Alarmed If I Fall Head Over Feet

I have always been a bit accident prone. A genuine klutz, a bit clumsy. After all, I am the girl who broke her leg essentially walking. But, it is more than that. I can't carry two drinks without spilling one of them. I can't eat without spilling something on myself. I trip over invisible things; bumps and lumps in my path that aren't really there. I once fell in a parking lot, because it was too much for my body to walk and talk on a cell phone. That is why when I drive, I don't do anything else. It would be too dangerous.

I blame my incessant need to multi-task. Maybe if I wasn't talking and gesturing while I eat, I wouldn't spill something. Maybe if I wasn't doing dishes and filling ice cube trays, I wouldn't drop a glass. And, maybe if I wasn't trying to write a story, an email and sing along to a song, I wouldn't have so many damned typos. Thank God for spell check. It is the clumsy writer's best friend.

I hope everyone had a lovely Labor Day weekend. Now, back to work!!