Friday, July 25, 2008

Books to Read

Amber and the Ashes - all three books in this series

Saturday, July 19, 2008


Even with the lights on the shop felt dark in that way where you know
it's night outside when you can't even see where the nearest window is
in the building. The way the lights seem a little less bright, and
every shadow pushes as deep into circles of the glowing hanging lamps
as you can imagine. Like every minute they protect you less and less
from the shades that cover the world in the absence of the sun.

He pushed her body against the backdoor of the car, her legs
spreading, welcoming him between them in the dark as her skirt pushed
up her thighs, her left leg hooked around his hips. The smell of
grease filled the garage as his fingertips pulled across her bared
thighs. His lips caressed her smile, as she opened wide to accept his
invading tongue as it slid warm and muscular between her lips, licking
at the roof of her mouth as she sucked on it gently, her panties
already damp and feeling constraining about her sex.

Both of his hands rubbed up her body as his hips pressed hard enough
between her spread legs to support her against the body of the car,
her feet locked tight around his ass as both his hands pushed her
shoulders back and her lips away from his kiss before he ripped open
her blouse, exposing her barely covered bre#%!s to the air, pushing
down her bra and leaning in, his lips wrapping tight around her right
nipple, swirling his tongue around it.

Smiling, he closed his teeth around the hard nub of the nipple and
flicked it as fast as he could up and down with his quick tongue
sending electric shivers through her body, her hips forcing themselves
harder against the hard bulge in his jeans. Her fingers pushed through
his hair as she gripped his head and held him close, encouraging every
movement of his lips and tongue. Every single muscle in her body went
taught and ready to go at the grinding of that hard shaft against her
motor, and his fingers knew just how to stroke her.

Delicately, her fingers reached down below his working lips and
between her legs, undoing the restraints covering him, letting out the
bare flesh that she craved against her body as her mouth opened and
moans filled the air, mingling with the smell of sweat and used oil as
she accidentally knocked a wrench to the floor off the top of the car
behind her when she threw her head back.

Nothing was better than a mechanic inside of her... they just always
seemed to know how to rev her engine...


I hope you don't feel guilty enough to keep yourself from imagining me
stopping the elevator that we are on in the office after hours, when
there is no one left to call it to another floor and let you out..
before I move towards you, reaching a hand out, wrapping my fingers in
your shirt and pulling you to me... sliding my tongue out and flicking
it at your neck, letting you feel it hot, wet, textured against the
skin of your neck, not quite hot enough to distract you from the
feeling of my hips pressing against your body, a hard bulge in them
pushing into your belly as you feel my command of the situation, of
your body.

Can you find it in yourself to forget any reason you ever might have
thought of to stop yourself from letting your head roll back, and
exposing yourself for me, like a gift, a simple surrender. Helpless as
my touch gropes at your hips and belly, pushing your shirt up your
body till you feel my fingers, strong and determined wrapping around
your breast, the curve of your tit, and giving it a firm squeeze,
handling it like it is my own personal plaything. Can you forget any
reason not to arch your back and give them both to me, to take and
show you how well I treat my toys?

Can you forgive yourself for being compromised if it was all me?
Pushing myself upon you, taking you helpless to the carpeted floor as
my fingertips trace your breast, its smooth curves, its soft surface,
always getting so close to teasing your hardening nipple, but never
quite flicking across its sensitive tip. My attentions maddeningly
making you want more, but stubbornly denying it as your breathing
quickens underneath my tall body holding you to the ground, my lips
moving slowly, steadily, with a mind of their own up and down your
neck, making it difficult for you to think with the hot moist massage
of my steamed and ever heavier breath on your neck, behind your ear,
on your skin behind your hair as it falls out of place.

No one in the world would find blame in you for spreading your legs
for me at the moment my fingers finally flick just barely across the
tips of your exposed nipples, to let me have what I want, to save
yourself from the force I would have to use if you tried to stop me.
When you're mugged, you give your wallet, when you're here, under me,
you give yourself. It only makes sense to spread your legs, your knees
raising up, your skirt falling down till it is spread out and rumpled
around your hips at the moment that you feel that hard bulge again,
pressing against your underwear, pressing into it, grinding, hard
enough that you can feel how thick it is, as the lips under your
dampening fabric spread out, you feel it between them, the barrier of
our clothes like hateful wall, preventing you from feeling the heat of
naked flesh. If it isn't your fault, you might as well be satisfied by
it, after all.

You might as well use your fingers to undo the clasp on my slacks..
and pull your underwear aside when I thrust down, letting you feel the
round slippery head of my flesh, dripping with thick fluid all the way
down the length of your spread lips, stroking commandingly along your
exposed pink center. You might as well thrust your hips up when you
feel it, round, wet, in charge, pressing just barely over where it
fits inside, pressing just barely a quarter of an inch, sinking inside
of you too slow. Is there any reason not to pound your hips forward
and let out a little scream, here, in the elevator, where no one can
hear whether it's a cry for help or for more, a scream of pleasure at
the feeling of that whole length thrusting deep inside of you as My
lips finally touch yours, wrapping around your lower lip, tugging on
it with my teeth, my right hand tracing circles around the curve of
your ass, bumping over the scrunched up line that tugs to let the
center of your underwear pull aside and let me in, and back down again
before I pull my hand back and swat it right on you, just as I am
grinding inside of you, the pain of the hard smack feeling like pure
ecstasy as it mingles in your body with the heated pleasure shooting
up your spine, till you can't tell which is which.

Is there any reason left why you shouldn't buck your hips hard enough
to roll me down underneath you when I'm not moving fast enough for
you. Is there any reason left in the world that you shouldn't buck and
grind and rip at my throbbing probing flesh inside of you till your
whole body is battered with the spasms of overwhelming o%g#@!s, your
whole body cumming with the beat of your wild hips against my willful
control over you....

I hope you can let yourself imagine that...

Lost in the Feeling

She found herself leaning further and further into his arms,
forgetting to pay attention to the world around her as his lips moved
against the tiny hairs on the back of her neck, sometimes not even
touching the neck itself, feeling more like a presence behind her. His
right arm completely encompassed her waist, his fingers touching on
her hip and belly. She wondered if he knew the effect of the almost
thoughtless circles his trimmed nails drew on her flesh through her
shirt and jeans were having on her, or if they were as innocent as
they were slow.

It never even occurred to her that she'd looked away from the movie
screen entirely. Both eyes were closed, anyway. His lips made full use
of her fully exposed neck, available completely for the attention of
his lips as she felt his fingertips slide under her shirt, and then
the quick pop of the button on her jeans slipping free. This wasn't
why she was here, she didn't really want this. She didn't have to stop
him just yet, it wasn't as bad as it could be. She hadn't kissed him
yet, there wasn't even anything that she would have to tell her
boyfriend. Those fingers just knew what they were doing too well to
stop them when all they were doing was lightly rubbing her belly.

Just a few more minutes and she would go and get a drink, and that
would be that. Solutions were never any simpler, she thought as she
turned her back to his chest, spreading her legs as his fingers began
to trace the edge of her underwear.

Gardens of the Afterlife

"It's beautifully maintained."

"Thank you," Simon replied very simply, smiling. His heart was in his
work, and he felt it was visible how much care he placed in it. Few
people ever said much to him about it, though. Simon didn't really
expect them to, they frequently had so much else on their minds. He
wasn't sure whether she knew that it was his work her compliment had
gone to.

He didn't know her name, either, but she was pretty. Her hair did that
thing where the sun glittered off of it around the edges and made it
look like it was giving off light on its own. She sat down next to him
at the edge of the pond. It was Simon's favorite spot. Not because of
how pretty the pond looked, or the view, though they were both quite
excellent. It was really the sound of the babbling of the tiny
fountains churning the water that he liked.

It was the only noise he ever heard inside of the walls of the
Lakeside Cemetery aside from the guests. It's not that there was
anything un-natural about the quiet inside the gates, or that Simon
was supernatural. He just liked a little bit of noise in the
background, something soothing.

After a moment, he turned to her and asked, "Are you here visiting
someone close?"

She nodded gently, saying, "My father."

"Were you close?"

She looked out, eyes drifting across the mild hilly landscape, filled
with trees and lattice covered trails and so many tombstones, even a
few small mausoleums. His question wen unanswered for an uncomfortably
long moment, and Simon found himself becoming quite aware of the
feeling of the sunlight on his back, hot even with the cool weather.

"No," she finally answered. "No, I wasn't really close to him. I don't
even really know why I'm here today. I just felt sad, and... well... I
don't know."

Wind blew through the grounds, a quick cool breeze that disturbed
Simon's hair. He understood. Not in any way that he could spell out or
express what she meant, but he understood. This place was beautiful,
and sometimes words just could not express why. He looked out to the
right, at the top of the nearest hill, where the sculpture of and
angel peered out, standing guard over the eternal resting places of
the permanent inhabitants of these walls.

"There's healing in this place. I've found it here."

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