things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
Cotton for me. I love soft and
are you wearing? Nothing at all. Perfect for cuddling and… other activities.
are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight? I rarely eat in bed. It makes the sheets scratchy, but before bed,
we fed each other apple spice cake with cream cheese frosting.
I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find? Oh god.
You’ll find all kinds of crap including a few toys, lube, old papers and
anything else I don’t want visitors to see.
you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the
night? Neither. I often shift during the
night but if I get cold, I either curl close or turn up the electric blanket so
we both stay toasty warm
I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up? Hell no.
No one put their cold parts on me.
In fact, I’m the one with cold feet and I’ll put them in all kinds of creative
places to keep them warm, so be nice because pay backs are a bitch, especially
when it comes to cold feet. LOL
are we reading? Right now, we’re reading parts of A Helping of Love. I’m working on the follow up (A Slice of
Love)and I need to make sure I have some
of the details that need to fit with the other story correct. If
you’re good, I’ll read the sexy parts to you out loud to make sure things get
going nicely. Imagine your own person
audiobook read by the author.
promised he would and hurried home as fast as the weather would allow. Once he
arrived, he spent nearly an hour getting out of his wet clothes, drying off,
and getting into dry things. He also dried off his wet chair and got on the
road again. Thankfully, the rest of his day went better, and by the time he’d
made all his calls, the skies had cleared. Peter decided he needed some
exercise, so he stopped at home to change and get a different chair. He drove
to the local high school and parked near the running track, getting out his
chair—this one sleek and sturdy, custom-made for him. Peter slid into it and
wheeled himself toward the running surface.
into position, he began moving forward, his arms propelling the wheels on the
racing chair. As he picked up speed, his chest, shoulders, and back came into
play, and he zoomed around the banked oval. The chair was weighted for him and
could turn on a dime. As he picked up speed, Peter’s blood raced through his
body, heart pumping life through him. After a while, it felt as though he were
flying around the oval, arms and chest throbbing, letting him know they were
being worked. He passed a runner in a blur and continued moving, staying in one
of the middle lanes, out of the way.
kept moving, passing a few more runners and staying in the groove. Breathing
through his nose and mouth, he reveled in the exercise, trying not to think
about how he’d been before a drunk driver changed his life forever. But that
was a while ago, and Peter pushed it away. It wasn’t hard, not out here in the
evening air, passing runners like they were standing still. Twenty minutes,
half an hour, forty-five minutes, each milestone passed with a small beep of
his watch. Once he reached his goal, he slowed but continued moving to cool
off. “Hey, dude, that was cool,” one of the runners called as he caught up with
Peter, running as Peter kept pace with them.
Peter said with a smile.
you compete?” a familiar voice asked, and Peter glanced to the side to see Russ
running along with the other guys.
want to, but I’m not sure I’m good enough yet,” Peter answered truthfully.
say you were. You looked like you were flying,” Russ told him, and as Peter
slowed, he noticed that Russ did as well, the other guys getting ahead of them.
“When I saw you, I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t hurt your legs,
shook his head. “I have a slight bruise, not from you, but nothing worse than
that. It’ll heal in time, but I have to keep an eye on it. How’s your arm? Does
it hurt?” Peter noticed that Russ was wearing a pressure bandage on each arm to
cover his wrists.
Russ said, touching one of his wrists. “I’m a bit clumsy, I guess.”
didn’t argue, and they came to a stop off to the side of the track. Russ was as
covered in sweat as Peter, his white T-shirt almost translucent, small nipples
are you ready to go home?” a man called as he strode across the grass, dressed
in what looked to Peter to be a tailored suit.
he answered before turning back to Peter. “I’ll talk to you later in the week,
and I think you’re good enough to compete.” Russ smiled before turning and
walking toward the man who Peter assumed was Barry. The large man looked
impatient, and as Russ approached, Barry hustled him toward a white Corvette,
where Barry appeared to throw a shirt at Russ, obviously afraid to get the seat
of his “compensating for my small penis” sports car dirty. Curious, Peter
watched Russ strip off his shirt, and he stifled a gasp at what looked like
black-and-blue marks on Russ’s shoulder.
man’s an asshole,” one of the runners said from behind Peter. “If he got
anywhere near me, I’d shove that Corvette up his ass.” Peter laughed at the
other man’s joke and looked away after Russ pulled on the fresh shirt and got
into the car. Barry started the engine, revving it as loudly as he could before
pulling out, tires squealing.
rarely hated someone on sight, but Barry fell into that category. His very
demeanor screamed self-righteous, sanctimonious asshole. Well, that was none of
Peter’s business. Russ seemed like a really nice guy, but he was taken. Not
that he’d looked at Peter twice. No one seemed to. “You like him,” the kid next
to him said. “It’s okay, dude, I like guys too.”
turned away from watching where Russ and Barry had left. “Do you know Russ
well?” Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Russ? He had someone already.
really. He runs with us sometimes. The big dude always picks him up and acts
like a superior asshole, but Russ is cool, always nice, if a bit quiet.” The
kid said goodbye and walked back to where his friends had gathered, still
recovering from their run. Peter held up his hand to the group, and they
returned the gesture before turning as a group and walking across to the far
side of the oval. Peter rolled to his car and drove home. He’d had a profitable
day business-wise, but once again he was coming home to an empty house.
his accident, Peter had lived with his parents, but he could see the burden of
taking care of him was falling to his mother. And as her health deteriorated,
Peter fought hard and long to become more and more independent. He got a job,
bought himself a small house, and moved out on his own. Both his parents
worried about him, but Peter needed to be self-sufficient. Before the accident,
Peter had been an athlete, a track star with high hopes and dreams. All that
ended when he’d opened his eyes in the hospital, unable to move his legs. Peter
hadn’t given up, and he’d channeled his athletic discipline and drive into his
recovery. When it became evident there was no hope for him to walk again, he
threw himself into becoming as independent as possible. That independence had
come with a price, and living alone seemed to be it.
Tantalizing Tuesdays has a 200 word limit, and writers select their own photos.
Here's my inspiration photo....*sighs*
My Unexpected Guest
"I'm not some
too stupid to live heroine in a bloody horror movie!" He railed, glaring. Crystal tears trickled
down his pale cheeks in defiance of his words.
I smiled. A pointed
lingering visual journey from his high heeled leather boots, the delightfully
tight denim jeans, the glitter of a ring at his bared navel, the too short, too
tight shirt, brought me back to his beautiful face. His cheeks were bright red
with emotion, and I let the mockery fade from my glance. He pleased me.
you aren't, my love. I would never have caught you if it weren't for my vast
experience in these woods."
The hapless youth seated
at my feet didn't seem any less alarmed.
The intensity of his gaze on my mouth charmed me. Oh yes..."The
teeth." I sighed.
you?" His breathy whisper sent shivers of awareness straight to my soul.
His being spoke to me, and he didn't even know.
"I am time
stopped, death gone astray." He stared, uncomprehending. "I am
pain...and ecstasy." Leaning forward, I flicked his plump, soft lip with
my tongue. "I am yours, for the length of your existence in this
world...and then... you are mine."
Images of the last few hours flicked rapidly through his
mind. He'd enjoyed himself. Every bit of the evening, from playing chess with
Johnny to watching Mason orgasm in the front seat of the car, had been
incredible. "Mason, I just can't. I can't tell you how bad it would be for
me if my parents found out about this."
As he pulled the Jetta into the parking space next to Mark's BMW, Mason spoke
again. "I swear, they won't find out. Honestly, Mark, I think this could
really be something special between us. Give me a second chance?"
It was the temptation of that husky voice calling his name during orgasm, the
sensual mastery of the kiss Mason pressed upon him, that caused him to agree.
His capitulation was most emphatically not due to any emotional need to be with
"No more sex in public places?"
"No more public sex," Mason assented readily.
Mark regretted Mason's agreement as much as he regretted making the demand.
To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955