Tuesday, November 18, 2008


Another challenge from the lovely Ms. Tyler. This one was 250 words around the theme 'broken'. Enjoy.


The radio plays our song.

I refuse to cry.

Instead my hands move along my bare breasts, tracing your path to my erect nipples. My fingers skip lightly across their tips, in tribute to your touch.

I shakily exhale, the sob stopping in my throat. My hands continue their journey, down my midriff, playing briefly with my navel piercing. I smile, remembering the day I got it done, how your face paled when they put the needle through my skin.

Tears prick at my eyes.

I refuse to cry.

My fingers tangle in the soft brush of curls, making their way down, sliding through the wetness. One finger slowly penetrates, my thumb gently pressing my clit in lazy circles. A second digit joins the first, my free hand grasping my throat. I can still feel your bite – the same spot, every time.

My fingers pound in time with the beating of my heart, and I close my eyes to imagine they’re yours.

The singer croons for lovers.

I refuse to cry.

I’m coming close. I piston my fingers in faster, harder. My other hand takes over on my clit. My middle finger rubs against the sensitive bud fast and furious, as a third opens me up further.

My knees buckle as I cry out, waves of pleasure causing me to crash to the floor, sobbing. My hands, sticky with sweat and come, reach up to cradle my cheeks.

The music stops.

The song is over.

I’m finally broken with goodbye.


"'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away"
-'Broken' by: Seether

Monday, November 3, 2008

Somewhere only we know...

It made you feel cheap, you said. You felt bad that I would have to spend money to be with you. That's why you turned down the motel idea. That's why you gave me no encouragement when I asked for the tiniest little sign for me to turn around and drive to the nearest run-down, sleazy motel that I could find.

I understand what you meant. I can even respect that.

I know that we could go to your place. I know that chances are the roommate will be home, as she always is. And I know that we'll lie on your bed, slip a DVD into your computer, and then not bother watching it. I know we'll be together tonight.

The walls are paper thin. The roommate isn't getting any right now, and besides, she's known you all your life. It's like fucking in the same room as your sister. EEEWWW. Yeah, I get that. So we want to be discreet. We could wait for another time, when she's not home. But then there are the neighbours. It's never really private.

But I want you to understand why I need you in a hotel, why I need you someplace private.

Somewhere only we know.

When you kiss me, nipping at my lips, tongue seeking mine, I want to be able to moan. I want to be able to sigh when you envelope me in your arms. When you tackle me onto the bed, I shouldn't have to stifle my laughter.

I want to hear the echo of your thighs slapping off mine, and the crack of your palm as it deals out punishment to my trembling cheeks. I want to shriek and scream as your tongue delves between my legs and laps at my wetness. When your fingers slowly penetrate me, I don't want to have to bite down on a pillow, or a sheet. I want to let loose the primal cries that over take me.

I want to tear down the walls when I feel the tension of you between my thighs.

And when you finally fuck me, I want to pant, wail, pound and grunt like animals. When you take me from behind, I want to hear you call me your slutty bitch. When you fuck my ass again, I want to let you know exactly how good it feels. I want to hear you call me yours when you come inside me. When I come, I want to sigh your name, and melt into you.

I don't want us to have to hold back.

Let's go...somewhere only we know.