Ten Words to Spare

"Hey"

"Hey..."

"What have you been doing?"

"Not a lot today. Work's been a bitch and I've been looking forward to talking with you since last night."

"Me, too." A pause... "I want you to do something for me"

"Yes?"

"We've been talking about fantasies now for weeks. But you know, you being you, have never really told me something you would really like to do. You've hinted around it, but not really.

"Oh... So what are you asking?"

"Yeah... Well, write me a story. Better yet, paint me a picture. With words."

I had to smile at this one. She was the one person in my life that honed in on my right-brained tendencies and was uniquely able to get me to talk and describe what was in my head better than anyone ever had. "What is this? An assignment for Creative Writing 101?"

She brightened. "Yes it is. A change of roles for the moment. I am the teacher; you are the student. You are to write me a story, no more than 250 words, of your favorite fantasy. Even one you haven't thought of yet would be more than acceptable. The first thing that comes out of your finger tips, no editing, no revision."

"Hell... Can I clean up the typos?"

Another pause. "OK. But that's it; nothing else."

"How do you know that I'll follow those orders, Teacher? We're five hundred miles apart and unless there's something I don't know here, there are no security cameras installed anywhere that will tell you what I'm writing or changing or revising"

"Because I asked?"

I smiled. "Good enough. How long do I have for this assignment, Teacher?"

"Until we talk later tonite? But you're not allowed to start writing until you can finish it in one sitting. And no notes. I want what's in your heart and head, and well, down below, too."

"OK OK. Fair enough. And what do I get for completing this assignment?"

"An 'A' if it's done well? A really bad grade if it sucks?"

I laughed and hung up the phone.

I managed to put the whole thing out of my mind for the moment, not an easy thing to do, as you might imagine, and dealt with the reality of my day. Later that evening, I remembered my promise, sat down at the computer, and this, the first and only draft, with the allowed typo and punctuation pass through the story when I finished it, is what came out. - - - -

She enters the room, dressed in a long black dress with a slit up the side. It is not low cut, surprisingly, but hugs her body comfortably. Her hair is piled on her head, and around her neck is a simple black ribbon. The unknowing eye wouldn't see that the blush on her cheeks was a flush, and that there were small beads of sweat near her temples, nor that her eyes had intensity to them not caused by the bright lights in the room. She is beautiful.

Nor would the unknowing eye realize that she had spent the last half-day in an increasing state of arousal, being touched and caressed and licked and fondled, brought closer to release, but never quite. Through all this, she smiled as she stretched and purred. She has spent the last hours dressing, to join me at the party.

She finds me, joins me with a look of rapture on her face. I touch her neck, and the caress brings a discernable shiver to her body. I pull her back into the shadow, lift the dress, smell her sex, and hold her under her breasts with one arm, touch her intimately with the other, and enter her from behind. She bites her lip and convulses for what seems like hours. I hold her as she falls limp in my hands and kiss her neck.

"Did anyone see us?" she asks? I smile...

*

Copyright 1997 – 2004 – "D"