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Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Kimmydonn Week 51: Clear

Kimmydon
Wednesday



Picture 1

Picture 2


Kimmydon's Choice: both


Title:
Clear

His fingers traced her breast, her ribs, her hip. His lips echoed down the opposite side, both meeting where she still burned, even though she was sure she could burn no hotter, no longer. He had a magic of his own, something stronger than any spell she had cast.

The princess’s breath came in panting gasps. The knight held her tightly as she recovered her breath. “More?”

“Yes, please,” she cried, pulling him closer again.


My pencil nearly tore the paper scratching that out. I flipped to a clean one.

Once upon a time,

“A girl was sexually frustrated,” I said aloud, falling back on my pillow.

After all his hinting at ‘taking me to heaven,’ Dan was slow as molasses now that I’d made a move. I had never had a problem with this before, but after our dates, I couldn’t focus until morning. Still feeling squirmy, I considered writing more horrid erotica. I knew my strengths as a writer, and that wasn’t it.

On the other hand, he did tend to read what I wrote...

I had to try to explain all I was feeling. He knew I was still shaken from the assault, which made him tentative. He also knew he irritated the life out of me, making my intentions more suspect. Still, there had to be a way to do it.
I looked back at what I had written.

Once upon a time.

there was a scared little girl. She had friends and family who loved her, but she still sought solitude. She still hid behind her books. Safety was found on the page, or so she thought. Someone reached past the page, pulled the pages from her. At first, she didn’t know what to make of this stranger who seemed so completely her opposite. She wasn’t frightened of him, but he did make her uncomfortable.

Before she learned if her discomfort came from dislike or attraction, she shut him out. She stopped returning his calls, stopped taking lunch where he would meet her, tried to drive him away. She thought it had worked. He wasn’t calling anymore at least. However, now she knew which it was. She missed him. She missed his taunts, his teasing, his humor. She missed his smile, his voice, his hand in hers. So, she went to him. Fool that she was, she didn’t tell him she was coming.

That night, disaster struck her. Her friend, her knight, came for her when she thought she’d pushed him completely away. Never had she wished more for her books, her solitude, to disappear as when that awful man pushed her into the alley. She never wished more for her thick sweaters and layers of clothing as when he tore them from her, tying her with the scraps. She cowered and cried as he beat her, shoving her face to the pavement.

But her friend came, even though he shouldn’t know she was there, couldn’t know she was in danger. He came, following only a hint of her presence. He took his brief break, not to rest, but to look for her. No longer a stranger, he frightened off the assaulter and all but carried her to safety. He stayed with her when he should be returning to his job, his livelihood.

She had needed him, and he had been there. She had missed him, come searching for him, and led him to search for her instead. She never got the chance to tell him the reason she’d been looking for him that night, never explained that she missed him.

When she found herself filled with longing, filled with need, he continued to protect her, from herself now, sure she was uncertain, confused.

What he didn’t know was that she was more certain and clear than she had ever been before. She was conflicted, fighting a myriad of emotions - anxiety, loneliness, despair, joy, passion - but knew what she wanted, what she needed. Him.

I love you, Dan. I want to be with you, completely.


It was too much, over the top. Sappy in the extreme, but I didn’t know how else to tell him.

Turning the page, I chose to rid myself of the rest of the unrest his touch and kiss had left.


His lips found hers, all of his devotion sealed in that kiss.

“Yes,” she murmured, her hands linking around him, pulling him closer. “Please,” she pleaded, pressing herself to him, breasts rubbing along his hard, muscled chest. “I want you.”

“I know,” he said with a smirk, his lips moving to her ear, his breath curling there, moist and hot. “You’ll want more.”

She shivered at the effect his voice had on her, at the burning filling her. He used that, hands sliding down her back, cupping her bottom and pulling her legs around him, his want no longer an unknown. She moaned into his hair, his lips on her neck now. He carried her effortlessly to the bed where be began to peel the layers of clothing away, kissing the skin that each one revealed.

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