All Over (well, what i believe is the final copy, but maybe not)
well needless to say, today was plainly interesting. i spent the day w/ jess and mercedes in the DD room...i was scared, but by the end of the day i felt good, hyper..and weird. i was in a great mood though.
i spent lunch mostly with Lee and MaX was there for some of the time, as were Mercedes and Nina ..
god, its all in that smile... it makes me smirk like a child hiding from her parents in a closet...
do you even realize how wonderful you are? i don't think you do...and i will never tell you.
******************************************************************************************
ALL OVER
I spied on her. Her yellow tights were split down the back of her legs. I crossed my own legs to hide the tormenting arousal springing from the sight of her skin. Blood rose through me, and I pictured it exploding and dripping all over me like red food colouring, seeping into my veins again so her essence would remain forever inside me. She licked her lips, fingering the various fruits that shimmered in the candlelight. The apples were as ripe and shiny as her obsidian-black pumps, and I felt myself harden at the thought of her fingers caressing me as she did the apples. I could visualize her dewy body greasing mine with sweat.
I tried to spot her nametag but was much too far away, and the light would never have allowed it anyway. A candle flickered and sputtered in my direction. Still, I could not make out her name - though I wouldn’t be paying much attention if I did get close to her. Part of me wished to run away, but I could hear the ocean encouraging me to let myself in and find a way to staple her into my arms. I felt as though every cell in my body was interlaced with every cell in hers.
I studied her as she moved so even her shadow enticed me, and with each wispy flutter of hair and flush of her blooming cheeks, I became more rigid. Seeing her in that waitress uniform, gleaming and shimmering, I began to whimper in desperation. I needed to have her, and the words “fuck” and “screw” couldn’t quite cover what I wanted to do to her. She ripped the yellow tights off, making her a raw paradise to my already peaking parts. She barely gave me time to calm myself before she teased off her shirt. I was surprised to see that she wore no underwear, but of course she was the type to let her body soar.
I wondered why I couldn’t be in there with her, helping her remove what she wasn’t wearing. My answer came as a smack to the back of my head. My collar was tugged and suddenly I was heaved to the ground. I felt the bones crackling in my back as he got on top of me. A boyfriend - with a body like that, how could I not have predicted she’d already be spoken for? I let him punch me with all his strength and didn’t so much as wince; I was too far into my fantasies to note any pain. I did feel the blood trickling from my nose, though, and the icy hands wrapping around my neck finger by finger. I squealed and choked without saying a word. I became his plaything, impressionable and controllable. He interrogated me, and with each unanswered question I got another punch in the jaw, nose, chest, wherever he felt like most. Lust had blinded me, though. This goddess, who would forever be untouchable to me, became my painkiller, numbing the very pain for which she was the trigger.
That was six years ago. I was sixteen.
I’m stealing her breaths. I kiss her, slowly sucking the air from her lungs, clasping her waist so she can’t escape. I feel the vinyl curves of her body as she moves. She is four years older than me. At sixteen that seemed a big difference, but now she nuzzles into my chest, yellow tights protecting her from the roughness of my legs. There are many more pairs in my dresser. She is caressing me as she does the fruit on my kitchen table. Her pumps are hiding under my bed.
…Now she thinks I’m sleeping, so she whispers when she talks. She reveals her feelings like a monk in meditation, slow, unsure, distant, complex. But I can only make out a few words: remember…spying…years later… I…you. Her whispers are too gentle.
I open my eyes and look into hers - frosty blue and romantic - and know that life without her would be impossible. I keep this realization to myself and return the kisses I stole so that she’ll always have some there for me.
We are spinning around each other now, drizzling red wine into our mouths even though the sun is coming up. She finishes the bottle and tosses it into the air like a magician would a wand - but then it collides into the kitchen tiles and glass spews everywhere, slicing her tights. I watch as her yellow-cottoned leg flows into a concentrated red. She is not panicking. She is letting the blood trickle onto her fingers and is licking it off. She’s beseeching with lust - a lust that’s crawling from my torn feet all the way to my groin. She is screaming with laughter, and I smirk because the blood doesn’t bother her.
I’m remembering when I ran away from the window of the blood-spattered shack of a pub where she worked, my own blood not bothering me in the slightest, for I’d seen paradise walking. I remember the jealousy I experienced when he grabbed her and tossed her onto a pool table after he’d finished hammering me into the ground. She smiled and took control, pinning him down. I couldn’t bear to watch from that point on. I felt we three were the only people on earth. I spent the rest of that summer at a distance. I dreamed of her every night, tossing and turning because her body wouldn’t leave my mind.
Now I’m holding that body and pressing it into mine, and she kisses me until that night flees from my thoughts. We are on the kitchen floor and she is taking control, pinning me so forcefully that her corset tightens around her chest as she leans forward and I can barely budge. I don’t want to, though; I like to watch her as the velvet strings unravel. She drags her nails down my torso and giggles when I shiver. Her tongue, wet with sap, stretches across my neck. The tingling never stops; it’s always like the first time with this girl. I close my eyes and sense her staring at me, her eyes floating around my face taking gratification from my pleasure.
I can’t tell if my boxers are wet from the wine drifting across the floor or from our sweat meshing into puddles. Our bodies are so intertwined, it’s hard to tell where mine ends and hers begins. With one quick gesture, she yanks a glass of water off the counter. I can’t see her, but I can hear her and I can smell her when she twists around. When I feel her bend on top of me, I know what is coming and don’t flinch --- because it will feel good, like feathers on silk. The cool liquid slides down my temples and soaks my hair. She splashes the rest directly in my face so my lips twinkle and my eyelashes clump together. Now I’m wet all over.
Suddenly her nails feel sharper and I’m opening my eyes to discover it’s not her nails at all, but two shards of glass being gently towed down my chest. My eyes are widening as I look at her face. Her cheeks are red like food colouring. I’m not frightened - I’m amused. She is not hurting me; she’s letting me know who’s in control. She still has her tights on, and every time she moves her body up or down, they tear a little more.
i spent lunch mostly with Lee and MaX was there for some of the time, as were Mercedes and Nina ..
god, its all in that smile... it makes me smirk like a child hiding from her parents in a closet...
do you even realize how wonderful you are? i don't think you do...and i will never tell you.
******************************************************************************************
ALL OVER
I spied on her. Her yellow tights were split down the back of her legs. I crossed my own legs to hide the tormenting arousal springing from the sight of her skin. Blood rose through me, and I pictured it exploding and dripping all over me like red food colouring, seeping into my veins again so her essence would remain forever inside me. She licked her lips, fingering the various fruits that shimmered in the candlelight. The apples were as ripe and shiny as her obsidian-black pumps, and I felt myself harden at the thought of her fingers caressing me as she did the apples. I could visualize her dewy body greasing mine with sweat.
I tried to spot her nametag but was much too far away, and the light would never have allowed it anyway. A candle flickered and sputtered in my direction. Still, I could not make out her name - though I wouldn’t be paying much attention if I did get close to her. Part of me wished to run away, but I could hear the ocean encouraging me to let myself in and find a way to staple her into my arms. I felt as though every cell in my body was interlaced with every cell in hers.
I studied her as she moved so even her shadow enticed me, and with each wispy flutter of hair and flush of her blooming cheeks, I became more rigid. Seeing her in that waitress uniform, gleaming and shimmering, I began to whimper in desperation. I needed to have her, and the words “fuck” and “screw” couldn’t quite cover what I wanted to do to her. She ripped the yellow tights off, making her a raw paradise to my already peaking parts. She barely gave me time to calm myself before she teased off her shirt. I was surprised to see that she wore no underwear, but of course she was the type to let her body soar.
I wondered why I couldn’t be in there with her, helping her remove what she wasn’t wearing. My answer came as a smack to the back of my head. My collar was tugged and suddenly I was heaved to the ground. I felt the bones crackling in my back as he got on top of me. A boyfriend - with a body like that, how could I not have predicted she’d already be spoken for? I let him punch me with all his strength and didn’t so much as wince; I was too far into my fantasies to note any pain. I did feel the blood trickling from my nose, though, and the icy hands wrapping around my neck finger by finger. I squealed and choked without saying a word. I became his plaything, impressionable and controllable. He interrogated me, and with each unanswered question I got another punch in the jaw, nose, chest, wherever he felt like most. Lust had blinded me, though. This goddess, who would forever be untouchable to me, became my painkiller, numbing the very pain for which she was the trigger.
That was six years ago. I was sixteen.
I’m stealing her breaths. I kiss her, slowly sucking the air from her lungs, clasping her waist so she can’t escape. I feel the vinyl curves of her body as she moves. She is four years older than me. At sixteen that seemed a big difference, but now she nuzzles into my chest, yellow tights protecting her from the roughness of my legs. There are many more pairs in my dresser. She is caressing me as she does the fruit on my kitchen table. Her pumps are hiding under my bed.
…Now she thinks I’m sleeping, so she whispers when she talks. She reveals her feelings like a monk in meditation, slow, unsure, distant, complex. But I can only make out a few words: remember…spying…years later… I…you. Her whispers are too gentle.
I open my eyes and look into hers - frosty blue and romantic - and know that life without her would be impossible. I keep this realization to myself and return the kisses I stole so that she’ll always have some there for me.
We are spinning around each other now, drizzling red wine into our mouths even though the sun is coming up. She finishes the bottle and tosses it into the air like a magician would a wand - but then it collides into the kitchen tiles and glass spews everywhere, slicing her tights. I watch as her yellow-cottoned leg flows into a concentrated red. She is not panicking. She is letting the blood trickle onto her fingers and is licking it off. She’s beseeching with lust - a lust that’s crawling from my torn feet all the way to my groin. She is screaming with laughter, and I smirk because the blood doesn’t bother her.
I’m remembering when I ran away from the window of the blood-spattered shack of a pub where she worked, my own blood not bothering me in the slightest, for I’d seen paradise walking. I remember the jealousy I experienced when he grabbed her and tossed her onto a pool table after he’d finished hammering me into the ground. She smiled and took control, pinning him down. I couldn’t bear to watch from that point on. I felt we three were the only people on earth. I spent the rest of that summer at a distance. I dreamed of her every night, tossing and turning because her body wouldn’t leave my mind.
Now I’m holding that body and pressing it into mine, and she kisses me until that night flees from my thoughts. We are on the kitchen floor and she is taking control, pinning me so forcefully that her corset tightens around her chest as she leans forward and I can barely budge. I don’t want to, though; I like to watch her as the velvet strings unravel. She drags her nails down my torso and giggles when I shiver. Her tongue, wet with sap, stretches across my neck. The tingling never stops; it’s always like the first time with this girl. I close my eyes and sense her staring at me, her eyes floating around my face taking gratification from my pleasure.
I can’t tell if my boxers are wet from the wine drifting across the floor or from our sweat meshing into puddles. Our bodies are so intertwined, it’s hard to tell where mine ends and hers begins. With one quick gesture, she yanks a glass of water off the counter. I can’t see her, but I can hear her and I can smell her when she twists around. When I feel her bend on top of me, I know what is coming and don’t flinch --- because it will feel good, like feathers on silk. The cool liquid slides down my temples and soaks my hair. She splashes the rest directly in my face so my lips twinkle and my eyelashes clump together. Now I’m wet all over.
Suddenly her nails feel sharper and I’m opening my eyes to discover it’s not her nails at all, but two shards of glass being gently towed down my chest. My eyes are widening as I look at her face. Her cheeks are red like food colouring. I’m not frightened - I’m amused. She is not hurting me; she’s letting me know who’s in control. She still has her tights on, and every time she moves her body up or down, they tear a little more.