MODERN TRASH

EROTICA IS USING A FEATHER, PORNOGRAPHY IS USING THE WHOLE CHICKEN.
Isabel Allende

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

MORE THAN JUST FRIENDS

Her cheeks were flushed. A tingling sensation ran through her, as though a thousand microscopic needles were dancing all over her body, making her skin prickle. It was as is if she wanted to surrender, to what, she didn’t know. What she did know was that it was a feeling she couldn’t get enough of.
She felt him near her now, felt his breath against her nape, bare and exposed as she sat with her back turned to the imposing shadows of night. Each word whispered in her ears – your skin is like silk…I want to touch you – all over…left her breathless, left her wanting him as much as he wanted her, but knowing all too well that if she let herself go, it would change everything. As if he could read her thoughts he moved closer, aroused by the challenge. With a gentle brush of fingertips, he moved loose strands of hair away from her cheek then bent to let his lips lightly touch her skin’s soft surface. A kiss, or was it? She craned her neck toward him, unable to restrain herself. Now she felt the subtle wetness as his tongue slowly, carefully began to explore. Reaching behind her, she guided his head from her neck to her jawbone, then to her own full lips, but he pulled away, teasingly. Her fingers dug deeply into the thick crop of hair that covered his head in dark, brown waves. Now he too, allowed himself to respond to her caress, as he buried his face more deeply into the dark recesses of her upper body, a body he had long hungered for.

         
He discovered the tender skin behind her ear and tasted first one, then the other, leaving her shivering with pleasure. He let his lips slide easily down her neck as his fingers peeled away the thin, cotton blouse from her shoulders, to expose creamy, unblemished skin. While he lingered on her suppleness, he breathed in her scent – magnolia mixed with orange blossom. It sent his head spinning until he could no longer hold back. Down, down his now eager lips traveled; her arm, elbow, wrist, palm, then up again to the blade of her shoulder that arched with pleasure at the mere contact. Leisurely but ardently, his wanting mouth found its way down her back until it reached the loosened waistband of her silk skirt.
Although completely at his mercy, she urged her body to be still, unwilling to give herself up to him just yet. Inside she was quivering uncontrollably. She longed to turn toward him, take him – all of him – into her arms, to feel his broad, muscular chest against her yearning breasts, to quell the anxiety of passion she knew they both felt – had felt – for far too long. But she remained unmoved, wishing this moment to last. It seemed an eternity, his mouth pressed tenderly but firmly against her, his hot breath burning a desire deep into her core. She had never felt this way before and she didn’t want it to end. How could she ever describe this to him? How, after all this time, could she allow herself to be vulnerable, to let him know her true feelings? And yet, here she was at last.
Her heart raced as she waited for his next move, and then it happened. He placed his strong hands upon her slender waist and gently squeezed, while his mouth edged downward, pulling her flimsy skirt along with him. She squirmed, wanting him to continue but wanting him to stop. Please stop, she thought, though her body ached for more and more. Her breath changed from satisfied sighs to quickened pants, her mind began to get foggy, lost in a moment so full of craving she could not bear it another minute. Arching her back toward him again, she began to slowly roll-over, giving herself to him at long last, consenting to the desire that had lingered for years between them.
Then she heard it. A ringing sound, distant at first but getting louder and louder with every passing minute. She sat up. It was the phone. How long had it been ringing? How long had she been dreaming? She looked at the clock beside the bed. It was nine AM. She felt exhausted, even though she had been sleeping for seven hours.       

Find out more about Joanie, her friends, colleagues and who she dreams about, as the story of Just Friends continues on Tuesday, March 22nd.
Stay tuned...
 

4 comments:

Simon said...

"making her skin prickle" seems redundant. As for the rest, this male reader is titillated and I expect lady readers will also appreciate the layering of emotion and sensuality...

Madison said...

The writing in the romance genre seems to generally lean toward the redundant, as well as an overuse of adjectives. However, thank you for your comment. I will keep that in mind. Glad you enjoyed it, especially as a male reader!

Zane said...

Reads like those cheesy old series for teenagers back when porn wasn't freely available. The sort you might find in some dusty old book store these days for a dollar each.

Madison said...

Whether it's intended to be or not, I'll take that as a compliment.

GRAFFITI BLEU; POET, MUSIC MAN, AUTHOR EXTRAORDINAIRE, AND MADISON LAKE'S MODERN TRASH

COLLABORATE!

WHEN THE SYNERGY OF TWO AUTHORS COLLIDE, A NEW STORY IS TOLD. WITHOUT RISK, LIFE IS STAGNANT.

Thank you, GB, King of collaboration!

EPISODE SEVEN FROM GRAFFITI BLEU'S INFAMOUS SIMONY CHIAVARY:

click on the tab GUEST #33 at the top of the page to read the full episode.