Life is not a movie. In a movie, the skirt would rise, like a curtain, on her round hips, revealing the perfect frame of her lace panties. In life, under the skirt there’s the rugged edges of the blouse, and the cheap tights with the crotch reinforcement ( Read more... )

Her damp hair sticks to her visage. Relieved from the distraction of that frame, my eyes concentrate on her face. Her lips are still red, though they long lost their paint ( Read more... )

"Whatever you have been doing, sir, don't stop. It's been a long time since I saw that smile"
I smile at her words again. Maria's right. I'm at peace, finally. It's a sensation that springs from my very soul and spreads to every muscle in my body, relaxing it, yet it's not the weariness of accomplishment: rather, it's refreshing.

She rings at the door. It's weird to see her standing there, waiting for me to open the door. We smile to each other, uneasy smiles that are supposed to fill the absence of words. She doesn't know what to do, really. Everything that was familiar a few days ago needs my permission, now. Ellen probably was thinking of showing indifference through ( Read more... )

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Ellen just called. She wants to know when she can come by to take her stuff. Why can't I be a dork and tell her she can come anytime I'm not around?

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I'm too tired to go running. Chris hums in the shower. I smile to that, thinking of when I'll entertain her much the same way.

I grab her as she leaves for more coffee, pull her to me. My hands seep into her Romantic dress.
She slides on me. The lines of light slowly slide on our bodies like in an asynchronous movie. The world wakes up to our breaths. Again she's mine. Again she makes me hers.

She stumbles through the room, finds my back with blind hands. Her body is hot through the linen. She kisses me on the neck, embraces me with the angelic scent of her hair. I could just turn and start tonight once more, all over again ( Read more... )