Archive | August, 2009


19 Aug

The moment she entered the theater door he was on her. He grasped her small hands in his, raised her arms over her head and spun her to the wall behind him. He forced a bent leg between hers and she felt the top curve of his knee rise to meet her. Her body slid down the wall. The softness of the skin over his knee-cap reminded her of something that made her flush as it slid higher against her and almost met. One arm now wrapped around her tiny waist and the other pushed her, palm to shoulder down further to the ground. His left hand found the sweet spot between the pale soft curve of her waist and her perfect ass. His right hand moved from shoulder to neck, thumb facing forward along the clavicle line still holding her firmly in his grasp. He had fantasized about holding her long neck in his hands this way. It was smaller than he imagined. He stretched his thumb under her jaw line just below the ear lobe and let his fingers burrow through the silky soft hairs on the back of her neck to her other ear. In one hand he held the entire weight of her head as she slid further beneath him. He looked down on her and held her that way for a moment then brought his hand to the front of her neck and wrapped it around again. He tucked the spot between his thumb and fingers up under her chin and held her like that as she slid the rest of the way down.  

 A nail in the wall caught her skirt and scratched the back of her thigh but she didn’t flinch. He caught her in his right forearm, releasing the grip on her neck to lay her body down and bring both arms above her head again as he pinned her to the floor. There was only time enough to gasp and catch a glimpse of the thousand multi-colored origami cranes migrating from the sound booth to the lobby before her eyes rolled back into darkness. A stress reflex retained from some childhood trauma as yet undiscovered, she thought as she awoke seconds later. Minutes later? She never knew exactly how long she had been gone.

 Her hands are free now, but they are always last to return. He knows this. He has already begun the work of locking her legs into place by swinging them over the bend in his arm, the skin on the backs of her knees taut against the fleshy insides of his elbows. She can feel his hot breath on her neck as he leans into her.  If she could move, she would only have to tilt her head left or right to kiss her own knee. She remembers the flush she felt as he forced his knee between her legs and begins to feel a familiar thrusting – her spine slightly curved at the spot where it meets the cold floor beneath them. Rhythmically, her body moves back and forth on that horizontal plane. He lets one leg slide gently from the crease of his arm to the floor. The toes are usually first to return but it’s a chilly night and her boots are still on. Thank you, she thinks and remembers the cranes. They are real and so is this.

 His weight is full upon her now. Her left leg sprawled out behind him; her right now stretched across his chest. She feels a tiny knee-cap press against her chest directly between her breasts and sees the dainty point of a black leather boot near enough to his head to whisper into his right ear. If it were not for the heat culminating at the spot where their bodies became one, she felt sure she would be shivering. Her whole body tingled at the thought and made her hair stand on end. The thrusting stops and is replaced by a new sensation. Hot hands cupping her cold, naked breasts – her nipples so hard they hurt. Hot breath again and lips against her right thigh quivering now from being stretched to its limit, responding in tiny convulsive impulses like static on a radio dial so deftly tuned as to find life where none was ever heard before. He lingered there in the rosy red that spread before him without restraint.

 She was fully and completely his. His mouth pressed against her full force while he held the quivery leg in place and buried his head between her thighs. It’s like silk he mutters looking up at her to gauge how much longer he’ll have her. His lips are shiny, wet with her sweet scent.

 The sight makes her want him inside her again and the urge is so strong she finds the words to say so.

 Maybe next time he thinks, maybe next time it will last just a little bit longer.

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