Opening Pandora's Box (Short Story) Love/Drama
Ok, so I wanted to do something different then the ususual Sci-Fi/Fantasy Adventure story. I wanted to try my hand at a Love/Drama/Comedy...This came off the top of my mind, and I will continue it...Peace! Enjoy!
Pandora smiled as her mind cleared the clouds of sleep from her mind. She awakened to the bliss of warm sunrays tickling her face and cool winds flowing over her body. The sultry croons of Rashid Devon played gently on the CD player. Pandora’s Afro-Asiatic features curled even further into a wide grin as memories of last night’s jubilant escapade came flooding back to her.
The sunrays intensified the memory and the tunes playing, the sensation. Her body responded naturally, her nipples and even the hair on her body came to attention. Last night was chaotic and explosive. “Explosive”, such a minor way to explain the feelings, the sights, the sounds and the taste of the erotic soul piercing sex she had with Marcus.
Or was it love making? Or just knocking boots? Pandora stretched and released another “minor” explosion. Her bodily juices flowed freely from her womanhood. She quickly crossed her legs, giggled and exhaled. “Damn!” “Sista need a plumber”, looking down at the growing wet stain on her silk sheets, “Baaad!”
Andromeda laughed out loud to herself, jumped up, dragging the sky blue sheets with her off her Egyptian Molino-Slay bed, and headed for the shower. Coincidently, the sheets where wrapped around her like an ancient sari, giving her a very exotic but wild look.
Last night is still freshly in her mind; Andromeda couldn’t help but reminisce about what she coined “The Moment”, as she continued into her neo asian-esque bathroom. The sounds of calming water falls from her petite wall plasma T.V. greeted her. Andromeda dropped the sheets to the floor and turned on her shower. Quickly the water turned steamy and Pandora stepped in, her mind fading back to “The Moment”.
She weeps salty tears, as the felling magnifies her senses. Her breast erects more at the thought….The feeling of his hot touch and lip message….His warm fingers walk up and down her body like soft by fleeting drops of rain. Her world trembles at her uncontrollable, gyrations, her pulsing won’t stop. Noises escape her pursed poised lips… She fights back, but the moment is here and can no longer be denied… She explodes…Her essence being devoured.
As her reminiscing ended, Andromeda tilted her head and let the hot water flow over her naked body. The hard drops pounding her flesh like a good massage. When she was don showering, Pandora dried herself and bounced over to her crystal vanity mirror.
This vanity mirror is a family heirloom, passed down for three generations from Pandora’s great-grandmother Sophia DuPont, who received it as a wedding gift. Pandora’s great-grandmother Sophia was a Moroccan of Moorish decent. She was a humanitarian who spent most of her time aiding the impoverished of Cambodia.
Sophia fell in love with a Cambodian soldier and this is where Pandora inherited her Asian-like features. These Asian features where the hallmark of the DuPont Women, as well as the legendary black woman’s booty.
Men fell over themselves like fools to woo them. Not all of the DuPont’s displayed the features; however most had the mocha skin, slanted hazel eyes and “Ka-Dunk-A-Dunk”! Pandora watched herself in her mirror and studied those family features. She mused with herself. She knew she was beautiful; however she kept her mother’s good upbringing, and did not let her beauty go to her head. Pandora knew in order to truly be beautiful one must also have the right spirit and attitude...
This Pandora definitely had, however she often wonder if these family edicts where indeed making her appear too nice, gullible, therefore a target for the predatory beast that lurked in the bars, outside the salons, in the stores, clubs, and on BlackPlanet.com.
These predators were the notorious “hit it and quit its”, the so called Player. Sighing, Pandora sat down at the mirror and dried her long dark curly locks. The she began her daily routine or primping and priming for the day. She had to make sure that tonight she captured the ageless look of a classical beau, for she is going out with Ramon. Ramon often praised her exotic looks and himself was a worldly man who had dated mostly foreign women.
Thing is, Pandora couldn’t get Marcus, or at least “sex” with Marcus out of her mind. The experience was breathtaking, beyond satisfaction. She didn’t want to dwell on it, but it was rare a woman in these times really enjoyed sex, not just the act, but also the whole nine yards.
With Marcus, Pandora got a smorgasbord, starting from the date, to the house, to the foreplay, the ambience, the actual act, then as importantly the “after play”. She couldn’t count one hand how many times she had that. Good ol’ down home, funky, soul piercing sex was just not the norm. A sista couldn’t shake it, and needed to work out a plan to keep it, and a plan Pandora will work up, but for now she had to focus on today’s date with Ramon or Mr. Indiana Jones.
Pandora called him Indy for short, he is a professional free-lance photographer; he is fascinated with ancient history, and traveled often to lands of antiquity to experience the atmosphere of those civilizations. He mostly sold his works to Traveling and History Publishing companies. These companies often endorsed his trips. Indy’s stories of where he had been, the peoples he interacted with, and what he had seen and done, always interested Pandora.
(Too be continued)
Pandora smiled as her mind cleared the clouds of sleep from her mind. She awakened to the bliss of warm sunrays tickling her face and cool winds flowing over her body. The sultry croons of Rashid Devon played gently on the CD player. Pandora’s Afro-Asiatic features curled even further into a wide grin as memories of last night’s jubilant escapade came flooding back to her.
The sunrays intensified the memory and the tunes playing, the sensation. Her body responded naturally, her nipples and even the hair on her body came to attention. Last night was chaotic and explosive. “Explosive”, such a minor way to explain the feelings, the sights, the sounds and the taste of the erotic soul piercing sex she had with Marcus.
Or was it love making? Or just knocking boots? Pandora stretched and released another “minor” explosion. Her bodily juices flowed freely from her womanhood. She quickly crossed her legs, giggled and exhaled. “Damn!” “Sista need a plumber”, looking down at the growing wet stain on her silk sheets, “Baaad!”
Andromeda laughed out loud to herself, jumped up, dragging the sky blue sheets with her off her Egyptian Molino-Slay bed, and headed for the shower. Coincidently, the sheets where wrapped around her like an ancient sari, giving her a very exotic but wild look.
Last night is still freshly in her mind; Andromeda couldn’t help but reminisce about what she coined “The Moment”, as she continued into her neo asian-esque bathroom. The sounds of calming water falls from her petite wall plasma T.V. greeted her. Andromeda dropped the sheets to the floor and turned on her shower. Quickly the water turned steamy and Pandora stepped in, her mind fading back to “The Moment”.
She weeps salty tears, as the felling magnifies her senses. Her breast erects more at the thought….The feeling of his hot touch and lip message….His warm fingers walk up and down her body like soft by fleeting drops of rain. Her world trembles at her uncontrollable, gyrations, her pulsing won’t stop. Noises escape her pursed poised lips… She fights back, but the moment is here and can no longer be denied… She explodes…Her essence being devoured.
As her reminiscing ended, Andromeda tilted her head and let the hot water flow over her naked body. The hard drops pounding her flesh like a good massage. When she was don showering, Pandora dried herself and bounced over to her crystal vanity mirror.
This vanity mirror is a family heirloom, passed down for three generations from Pandora’s great-grandmother Sophia DuPont, who received it as a wedding gift. Pandora’s great-grandmother Sophia was a Moroccan of Moorish decent. She was a humanitarian who spent most of her time aiding the impoverished of Cambodia.
Sophia fell in love with a Cambodian soldier and this is where Pandora inherited her Asian-like features. These Asian features where the hallmark of the DuPont Women, as well as the legendary black woman’s booty.
Men fell over themselves like fools to woo them. Not all of the DuPont’s displayed the features; however most had the mocha skin, slanted hazel eyes and “Ka-Dunk-A-Dunk”! Pandora watched herself in her mirror and studied those family features. She mused with herself. She knew she was beautiful; however she kept her mother’s good upbringing, and did not let her beauty go to her head. Pandora knew in order to truly be beautiful one must also have the right spirit and attitude...
This Pandora definitely had, however she often wonder if these family edicts where indeed making her appear too nice, gullible, therefore a target for the predatory beast that lurked in the bars, outside the salons, in the stores, clubs, and on BlackPlanet.com.
These predators were the notorious “hit it and quit its”, the so called Player. Sighing, Pandora sat down at the mirror and dried her long dark curly locks. The she began her daily routine or primping and priming for the day. She had to make sure that tonight she captured the ageless look of a classical beau, for she is going out with Ramon. Ramon often praised her exotic looks and himself was a worldly man who had dated mostly foreign women.
Thing is, Pandora couldn’t get Marcus, or at least “sex” with Marcus out of her mind. The experience was breathtaking, beyond satisfaction. She didn’t want to dwell on it, but it was rare a woman in these times really enjoyed sex, not just the act, but also the whole nine yards.
With Marcus, Pandora got a smorgasbord, starting from the date, to the house, to the foreplay, the ambience, the actual act, then as importantly the “after play”. She couldn’t count one hand how many times she had that. Good ol’ down home, funky, soul piercing sex was just not the norm. A sista couldn’t shake it, and needed to work out a plan to keep it, and a plan Pandora will work up, but for now she had to focus on today’s date with Ramon or Mr. Indiana Jones.
Pandora called him Indy for short, he is a professional free-lance photographer; he is fascinated with ancient history, and traveled often to lands of antiquity to experience the atmosphere of those civilizations. He mostly sold his works to Traveling and History Publishing companies. These companies often endorsed his trips. Indy’s stories of where he had been, the peoples he interacted with, and what he had seen and done, always interested Pandora.
(Too be continued)