I guess everyone has heard that it is best to write about things that you know about or things you have done. I tend to write about those things that I dream about or desire to know more about and sometimes I just sit and let the words flow not knowing where the rushing rivers of words will take me until I get there. That is the way that I write and in my earlier years that was the way I lived. Floating from place to place not knowing or caring where I was going or how I would get there. Soon those days came to an end and I slowly began to settle down. I took a job as a teacher and spent 11 years instructing middle schoolers in the always-useful knowledge of history, geography and civics. I spent my free time at sporting events, working school dances, grading papers and writing lesson plans, putting away my passion for writing and exploring the written word. Then my world as I knew it came to a halt. My existence was suddenly questioned because that which I existed for was gone. So now I write and chat and look to a veiled future, one that I can no longer see with any clarity. But more important than all of this is that now I write. I have rediscovered a wonderful love in the words I use. I have sharpened my senses with imagery and on paper canvasses painted pictures with clarity and vivid life using my verbal palette.
This has nothing to do with my story I felt the need to express myself and I thank you for your time in reading this short dialogue.
Just in case you are curious I wrote this story in first and third person for a reason. As you read I assume you will understand. Enjoy.
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She lay on the bed. Blankets and sheets akimbo scattered from one end of the room to the other. Pillows piled on the floor. Empty bottle of wine and crystal goblets littered the nightstand. Running her hands along her arms fingertips tracing imaginary highways made of veins. Small goosebumps popped up on her skin as she felt the sensual tingle of her fingertips. Slowly moving from her arm to her throat around her ears and along the bones of her face. She smiled a sensual smile. One of understanding of ones self. She allowed her fingers to stroke her hardening nipples drawing in a ragged breath as the electric current shot through her body. Pinching each nipple. Pulling it as she rolled it between her fingers. The mixture of pleasure and pain, pleasure far outweighing the pain. She ran her fingertips down her stomach, feeling the soft furry down of the light blonde hairs surrounding her navel. Stroking her stomach lightly she could feel her heat growing, her body anticipating what was about to come. Her moisture flowing downwards, gathering at the juncture of her thighs preparing the way for her journey. She knew what she needed as she softly stroked the hood of her clit playing it like a harp. A gentle plucking followed by a long soft stroke. Currents of electric passion shooting through her as she continued to play her button with a practiced hand. Opening herself with her fingers she began to rub the outer lips of her hot, wet blooming flower. The lips starting to open and grow as they filled with blood driven by her passions. Thrusting two fingers inside she started to stroke in and out, keeping her thumb placed on her clit, rubbing with each stroke. A deep guttural moan rose from inside of her, escaping from her gasping mouth. Drawing her breath quickly as if it were her last, she hastened the pace of her pleasure.
Taking her free hand she started to rub over the clit soon taking it between her fingers pinching and rolling it gently. Feeling the waves of her release starting to flow over her she thrust another finger inside stroking deeply. With the additional finger and the tweaking of her clit she was rewarded with a heart stopping orgasm. Her climax flooding her hands and legs pooling on the bed as she thrashed about. Her fingers still stroking and rubbing but without her control or direction, as if possessed, they sought to bring forth another climax as strong if not stronger. Again she felt her body starting to stiffen as her climax hit a high plateau. Barely able to breathe she collapsed on to the bed. Her hair and face and chest wet with her sweat, as the rest of her was soaked from her own fluids as well. She lay perfectly still, unable to move as she gathered up her strength. Slowly she adjusted the Marti Gras mask that she wore. Sitting up she blew a kiss towards the camera and pushed the stop button.
As she showered she wondered if what she was doing was right or not. Heaven knows that she loved the excitement of knowing that she was being watched, but what if someone she knew found out. What is if they watched and her secret was found out? What would she do? How would she explain? These thoughts kept going through her mind as she finished her shower she fixed her hair in to a loose bun and moved to the bedroom to dress. Reaching into the dresser she pulled out a matching set of black silk undergarments lacy bra and thin panties. Slipping into these, she next slipped on her garter belt and black stockings. She removed a black formal evening gown from the closet and slid it over her head, enjoying feel of the material against her skin. A single strand of pearls topped off the outfit as she slid her feet into the Gucci high heels.
Looking at her self in the mirror she could not believe that she was the same woman who just an hour ago had been collapsed in the middle of her bed, covered in sweat and her own juices. She smiled a strong and confident smile as she left the room and headed towards the car that was waiting for her.
"I cannot believe that all the people in my district would want for me to vote for such a measure as the one that you are proposing."
"Personally I do not care what color they paint the room as along as it is a shade that will go with the new curtains I bought"
.."and I heard that she was sleeping with not only her boss, but the secretary as well."
Bits and pieces of conversations floating about the room, to many to try and keep up with even though I tried. Feeling my eyes glazing over from shear boredom I made my way over to the corner just to find a bit of solitude and quiet.
Just as I settled down on the sofa feeling the stress of the party and the people starting to ease a voice broke into my much sought after peace.
"Good evening, I hope you don't mind if I join you? It seems that we are both looking for the same thing this evening"
I looked up and into the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen. It was almost like looking onto a well. Blinking to regain my composure I looked at the face surrounding those eyes and was surprised to see the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Just as I started to speak the woman excused herself saying that her glass needed to be refilled. As she left I paused because the voice I heard did not match the face I just saw. Looking down towards the floor I saw a pair of highly polished western boots. Traveling up I passed over pressed black cotton jeans, a rather impressive gold buckle, (as well as an equally impressive bulge right below it), western shirt and coat and finally a black Stetson.
"Well it depends on what you think I am looking for Sir." I said flashing my famous smile at him.
"Well if you are like me these fancy parties tend to last a lifetime in only a few hours and you start looking for a new roost to sit on."
I was most intrigued with this western garbed man and I invited him to come and sit with me. As he sat down I saw a rugged face, the face of a man who had worked hard for what he owned and was in no means or manner about to give anything up without a fight. "So what brings you to this little gala of impressive political debauchery," I asked looking at him to see his expression.
