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| Word Limit = 300 words Key Phrase = hazy Extra Credit = Figure out who's taking the picture, or, tell us where the husband is. |
It was obvious that she was the master of the house. Her casual sensuality gave her an air of power as she walked among her guests. Occasionally she would stop and whisper in their ear, her hand drifting over body parts most intimate, some of them covered, some bared for her approving touch. If she found someone special, she would kiss them pull them tight, and allow herself to be touched. She was always in control as she wandered here and there, watching other couples play as her stocking clad consort followed behind.
When she thought of something particularly amusing she would reach back for her consort’s hand. She’d pull her close and whisper in her ear and both women would giggle and share a kiss. When the mood struck, her hand would caress her attendant’s breast and she would kneel and slip under the soft red dress. A look of hazy pleasure would come over her face and everyone in the club would stop and watch.
Her feet slid across the oak floor giving access to her younger lover’s tongue. Businessmen who traded millions each day watched in awe. Women who demanded the highest price boiled with jealousy. Her climax approached and the room grew quiet. Muscles clenched and lifted her en pointe and she held her lover’s head in place under the red fabric. She denied us all the view but told the story with her sounds and expressions. A story of pleasure, mastery, and perfect confidence in letting the world watch.
Afterwards, her consort lit her cigarette and sat patiently at her side as she addressed the men on the couch.
“What can I do for you Mayor?” She said with a sly smile, “and remember, this is all on camera.”
My camera clicked, my wife smiled.
When she thought of something particularly amusing she would reach back for her consort’s hand. She’d pull her close and whisper in her ear and both women would giggle and share a kiss. When the mood struck, her hand would caress her attendant’s breast and she would kneel and slip under the soft red dress. A look of hazy pleasure would come over her face and everyone in the club would stop and watch.
Her feet slid across the oak floor giving access to her younger lover’s tongue. Businessmen who traded millions each day watched in awe. Women who demanded the highest price boiled with jealousy. Her climax approached and the room grew quiet. Muscles clenched and lifted her en pointe and she held her lover’s head in place under the red fabric. She denied us all the view but told the story with her sounds and expressions. A story of pleasure, mastery, and perfect confidence in letting the world watch.
Afterwards, her consort lit her cigarette and sat patiently at her side as she addressed the men on the couch.
“What can I do for you Mayor?” She said with a sly smile, “and remember, this is all on camera.”
My camera clicked, my wife smiled.
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I had the office to myself today so I slipped on my headphones, called up Pandora, and put it on my “Pink Floyd” station. What followed was a fantastic mix of 70s rock including the Rolling Stones, the Eagles, the animals, and every song gave me a new idea for the story. I settled on an image from “Paint it Black.” I like the idea of passing through a door into a world that has fundamentally different rules, where society’s limits are gone, no matter how scary it is on the other side.
I almost went with Hotel California, and I still might spin one more story out before bed, but now I have to go to the library to get books for my daughter, and yes, her book check is Monday.
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