An Evolution of Learningbywildsweetone©
To the Reader,
This is a group of short stories written by myself on the Author's Thread. I hope you enjoy my growth as I have enjoyed growing through learning.
Thank you to the Webmaster for allowing me to publish these stories here.
* * * * *
The curtains rose gently as the breeze wafted through the window. Unseeing, she gazed through the gap in the curtains her thoughts full of him. He would be home in 10 days, his Tour completed. The moon lit the pathways of the night. Though the breeze was warm, she shivered pulling her robe tighter. The sky lost its appeal; she left her bay window seat and crept back into bed.
Remembering the relaxation course earlier in the year, she closed her eyes imagining a beautiful glowing light above her head. The light trickled down over her entire body like a slow flowing waterfall. By the time it reached her feet, she was deeply asleep.
He came to her as she lay breathing softly. He bent over her and kissed her full lips. Tracing them with his tongue, he stilled his touch as she stirred. When she quietened, his mouth moved down to nuzzle the tiny throbbing pulse in the hollow of her neck. Further down his mouth moved, to her milk-laden breast. With its nipple exposed so perfectly he didn't resist his reaction. His warm mouth closed over it and he suckled gently. He drank his newborns nourishing supper stopping only as she moaned and turned.
He stepped back and stripped his uniform off, throwing the shirt and trousers over the rocking chair. Using the chair he sat and unlaced his boots. He stuffed the heavy woollen socks down inside them. Standing, he removed the last vestige of clothing.
Noiselessly he moved to the bed, slipped between the covers and wrapped her in his arms. Thank God he'd been saved to come home.
The baby's hungry suckling woke her. Silent tears overflowed as she prayed for his safe return.
* * *
138 words - just a slice perhaps...
She lay sobbing, naked, tied by the feet and hands with heavy ship's ropes to each corner of the four poster bed.
Her partially shaven pussy was wide open for everyone to see.
Humiliation overwhelmed her as her eyes darted from face to face. They surrounded the bed, watching her writhe with embarrassment.
Her nipples were set on mounds of pure fantasy. Soft delicate skin bruised, cut and oozing blood from the cat o'nine tails her lover had punished her with. Tears streamed from her eyes clouding her vision. She was grateful for that. She didn't want to watch as the punishment continued. Didn't want to see their expressions of lust and excitement.
WHACK! She screamed in agony as the cat sliced open her nipple. Someone poured salt-laden water over the wound. Her fainting left the room silent.
* * *
She closed her eyes, her body swayed slowly with softly playing background music. She cast her mind back to the morning.
She'd been woken by her partner. Slow, soft suckling on her breast. Her hand had reached over, blonde hair running through her fingertips. Massaging her partner's head, the suckling increased.
It hadn't been a dream. She'd moved her body closer, loving the sensual feeling of aroused nipples against her belly. The tingling had begun deep inside. She lifted her leg over her partners' body and moaned deep in her throat as she felt fingertips lightly caressing her pussy lips.
Her juices poured as her partner moved down her body... Licking, kissing wetly, lower and lower. When finally her pussy was reached, she couldn't control her body any longer.
"Yes, oh yes baby, that feels so good," arching her back she had orgasmed, her partner licking all her honey, sucking her swollen clitty.
It had taken another hour before they were able to leave the bed, and even now as she danced at work, her body still trembled.
* * *
Swoosh! The door closed behind him.
"Which floor Sir?" she asked.
"The top," he replied.
His arm ached from carrying his briefcase. Rose perfume filled the tiny compartment as he changed hands accidentally brushing the dozen roses against her.
"Mmm, they smell beautiful," she breathed deeply, smiling. "Are they for someone special?"
"Yes, they're for a close friend," he returned the smile. She was shoulder height to him. Her blond hair pinned in a neat bun; light makeup perfect, as was her uniform. Her smile was genuine and she portrayed a person who enjoyed her work.
"Your friend is lucky."
Thanking her, he bent his head and kissed her lightly. She stood on tiptoe; her hands slid either side of his face as she kissed him back. Her lips parted, without second thought his tongue slid deep inside.
Her hands caressed his body, slowing at the front of his trousers where his manhood waited. Featherlight fingertips dealt deftly with his belt and zip.
He moaned as her hand held him. Reason left him as she knelt and replaced her hand with her warm, moist mouth. When her tongue slid over him, he leant back against the steel rail. Its coldness bit into his back as her teeth nibbled on him.
With full hands he was unable to touch her. Sensually drugged he thrust his hips forward. Teasing him with her tongue, sucking furiously fast causing an uncontrollable explosion. She swallowed most, dribbling a little down her chin. As he calmed, she stood and using her finger scraped up his honey from her chin, channelling it into her mouth.
Grinning mischievously she zipped him up, buckled his belt and opened the elevator door.
"Have a nice evening, Sir," she smiled.
"Guess what just happened to me?" he asked his friend Paul.
* * *
Dust flew up behind him as his black convertible sped over the metal road. 15 minutes later he came to the crossroads she'd mentioned. Turning left he soon found himself outside the Inn.
Jumping out he took the steps two at a time, entered and walked to the registry desk.
"Room booking for Smith please."
The clerk looked him over, shaking his head at his lack of luggage; he checked the registry book and handed over a set of keys to room 19.
"Would you like anything else, Sir?" the clerk asked.
"No thanks. That's all for now."
As he opened the door to his room, he listened. Soft music played through the hallway. Smiling he entered his room, closing the door behind him.
He relaxed, stretching his long lean body out on the bed. With his hands behind his head, he lay thinking about her. They'd met on the net. Playing backgammon of all things. Chatting for hours they eventually swapped pictures. They became as close as two people could get without physically touching. He could hardly wait to meet her.
Remembering the loving warmth in her voice on the phone, and her caring attitude when he most needed a shoulder to lean on, he knew he had fallen in love with her. Now all he needed to do was see if she felt the same.
She arrived later that afternoon. When he opened his door she greeted him with a beautiful smile. She walked past him, her rose scent floating in the air around him.
He closed the door and walked to where she waited. Only a moment of uncertainty stood between them. Then, smiling, they walked into each other's arms.
She held him close. Lifting her head, looking deep into his eyes, she whispered, "I love you."
* * *
I looked up at Harry as he walked by my desk, his black briefcase in one hand, rye sandwich in the other.
"Hi Harry, nice lunch," I grinned.
"Thanks," he mumbled his face full of food. The hot look in his eyes stopped me grinning.
He was a guy who showed an outward appearance of being completely in control, most of the time. Looking at the mayo dripping down his chin, watching him crash into the boss's secretary, dropping his briefcase and papers scattering all over the show, you wouldn't believe any control was there. I knew differently.
Two weeks ago he'd asked me to partner him for the evening at a dinner and dance the company put on, without hesitation I'd accepted. He'd let his hair down, relaxed and had been great company. Perfect mealtime manners and a good sense of rhythm made the evening enjoyable.
He'd taken me home in his Jag, parking outside my apartment. Turning, he'd kissed me lightly. Mellowed out from the amount of drink I'd consumed, I kissed him back and my hands had started wandering of their own accord, slipping inside his shirt, finding and teasing his tiny nipples as the kiss deepened. The heat inside the car increased quickly. It took a mountain of control for him to stop, but stop he did.
He'd walked me to my front door. Kissing me hard and brief, he'd smiled and gone back to his car to drive off into the night.
Watching the klutz in action in front of me, it took all my control not to run to his aide, not to kiss the mayo off his chin, not to grab him by the hair and find an empty office with a lock on the door.
Then again, what harm could it do?
* * *
"Damnit! You bitch of a cat!" I screamed and dropped him. Blood poured as I ran to the kitchen sink. "You ungrateful little wretch!" I scowled
"Hey girl! What's all the racket about? I heard you over the lawnmower!" My neighbour walked in through the slider, grabbed my hand, and looked closely at my finger.
"A little thing like this, and you made all that noise? It's no bigger than a pinhead," he scoffed.
"That pinhead went through my finger!" I growled.
"It's only a little scratch. Here let me kiss it better." His head swooped down and he kissed my finger gently. "Uh oh. More blood." Before I could pull my hand away, he put my finger into his mouth and sucked. Looking up at me he grinned, my finger still in his mouth. I yanked my finger away.
"Hey, I was only helping." I turned away, running my finger under the tap.
"I can fix my own finger," I growled.
"Yeah right. I'd like to see you try to put a sticky on that one-handed."
I grabbed a plaster from the cupboard and stuck it onto my finger. It looked daft, but there was no way I was willing to let him touch it again.
"I have some news for you," that grin was back.
"It better be good," I grumbled.
"Oh it's great. I'm going to be a daddy!"
"Congratulations!" Happy for him I smiled. Then I stopped, saying "Oh god, that means a little one of you will be walking around."
"Very funny. I'll make sure he doesn't come to see his Aunty who tortures her cat," the wink was powerful. We chatted a little longer, then he waved and I watched him saunter off and finish his lawn mowing.
His wife is one lucky woman.
* * *
I walked along the path feeling the evening breeze cool on my skin. Here and there house lights were on, most glowed in the gaps between the curtains or blinds.
As I walked, I cleared my mind of the day's happenings. This is 'me' time. Time when I think of nothing in particular, nothing at all. Time when I walk and smell freshly cut lawns; time when I watch the stars.
Music beat from one house, a TV sports channel from another. Still I walked.
I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I wasn't alone. I looked behind me, nothing. The street lamps came on, a slow glow at first. There was a blown one a little further down the path. I didn't feel very comfortable any more. I walked a little faster.
The group of bushes rustled and I kept walking. A hand grabbed my arm; another closed over my mouth. I couldn't scream, couldn't cry out for help. I was dragged backwards, into the bush. Laid on the ground face down as something was shoved into my mouth and tied behind my head.
Roughly I was turned over. My terror reflected in black eyes. A hand reached down and lifted my skirt. I squirmed, kicking out, trying to push him off. Not succeeding. His hand slid inside my panties and began slowly caressing. Through my fright I felt pleasure.
The caressing continued, slow circles rubbing. With one finger slipping inside, I closed my eyes. My moan was muffled against the gag. My orgasm was full and fast.
He left me like that. I stood, straightening my clothes, taking off the gag and walked back home.
The bright lights greeted me. So did my husband.
"Did your birthday turn out eventful after all darling?"
* * *
The group sat quietly, unmoving, listening. The storyteller closed his eyes and began his tale. I moved away.
A book lay unopened behind me. It looked as if nobody had read from it for some months. I picked it up, opened it. A damp musty smell emanated from the pages. I turned a few over holding them gingerly. They held the words of lots of stories. Some only a page or two, others longer.
I stopped at one page and read,
'He lay asleep naked on the river's edge. His chest moved slowly as he slept deeply. His toe twitched as an insect landed. It flew off leaving a tiny drop of blood in its wake. The water rippled as it flowed over a slimy rock. The sun leaving bright splotches on his body as it shone between the leaves, warmed his body. He stirred, turning in his sleep. His eyes opened and he lay watching me.'
Startled, I dropped the book back on to the table. I glanced over at the group and found their eyes in my direction. The eyes of the storyteller were the same eyes that had watched me from the pages of the book. I knew he'd written it. I wanted to know more.
I moved toward the group, sat amongst them and listened.
He smiled and went on with his story. His voice mesmerised me. I was walking his tale, seeing his sights, feeling his touch. My whole being was his to take on his travels. Though our distance was short, we traversed it well, every detail etched on my mind. He brought me back slowly. When I opened my eyes, he had gone. The feelings he gifted me with remained in my life.
Such is the beauty of a good storyteller.
* * *
A red skipping rope lay on the concrete driveway. I looked at it in dismay. Laying there meant nobody was home. Walking past that rope was a difficult task, but I did it.
Under the arch, into the enclosed garden I walked. Looking at the house I could see it was empty. All the ground floor windows were closed, the front door shut. I went up the two steps, knocked and waited.
The garden was beautiful, she'd put so much work into it. It flowed from one plant, one tree, to the next. Blues, purples, pinks, greens. Serenity abounded.
"It's a lovely garden," a voice whispered behind me.
I spun around, the unexpected sight of him blocking all thoughts. I hadn't seen him for years. In my mind I'd believed he'd left or died. Seeing him now simply disarmed me.
"You do recognise me then," he commented. "Come in, we have much to discuss." He took my hand, walking with me into the darkness of the house. He led me into the kitchen, the brightness making me squint for a moment.
"Please relax. Sit and let's just enjoy each other's company while we have this chance," he gestured towards the stool.
I sat still, wary of him as he sat opposite me. He reached toward me, my arms had already extended themselves. His hands were warm as he held mine.
My eyes closed and he took me to a place no other had seen. Up high in the snowy mountains, perching on the edge of rocks. Complete silence enveloping us, privacy. Time was non-existent, we were as one.
Shouting and banging, familiar family noises had woken me. Blinking at this abrupt wrenching from peace to chaos, I looked at her.
"I see he returned," she smiled.
* * *
With only one customer ahead of me in the queue, it wasn't a long wait to get to the counter. I looked around at the other people in the bank.
The lady in front of me wore an outrageous outfit. Bright coloured blowsy blouse and tight as white trousers. Her make up looked like she'd put it on with one of those cement trowels, very thick but successfully filling the cracks in her face.
A man stood at one teller's box. His leather jacket was on the floor at his feet. He and the teller were speaking quite loudly, discussing his personal account. He was very tall, and he spent most of the conversation looking at her computer screen.
The queue moved up, someone came in behind me.
The weirdo lady shouted out from her place at the counter, "Gidday Steve, how's things?"
"I'm Dennis," he answered. "Things are fine here."
The weird lady went to chat with Dennis so I moved up to the counter. I handed over my little bag of money and asked the teller to deposit it into my husband's visa account. I looked across at the loud speaking man. His teller packed up his books and handed them to him.
"Thanks very much," he boomed.
With my banking finished too, I went to leave the building. Reaching for the handle to pull the door open, I stopped as another hand covered mine.
"That's my job, little lady," he looked down at me.
"But..." I stammered.
"No buts," he smiled, leaned forward and kissed me full on the mouth.
Surprised, I thanked him and walked through the door towards my car. I glanced back.
He carried his jacket over one arm; his white stick was firmly in front tapping the sides of his pathway.
* * *
I love shopping at the fruit and vegetable store. It's over the road from the library, so not much of an inconvenience.
I called in, grabbed my wallet and the nearest trolley. You know the kind, they have four wheels which want to race to all four corners of the shop at the same time. Oh and of course, one of them squeaks.
I pushed it ahead of me, stopping at various produce items and ticking them off my list. Oh yeah, I need a list nowadays, something to do with that menopause thing. Often can't remember what I had for dinner the night before, little own what groceries to buy. So, the list, the wallet, the trolley and I collided our way around the shop.
Bananas, laid belly up of course. A magazine said belly up means you're available. Like the flower behind the ear thing. Though I can never remember which ear.
Bag of potatoes, a necessity for a growing family.
Next lettuce, those novelty ones. They look so pretty and taste foul, but that doesn't matter, so long as it looks good on the plate. Right?
I picked over the carrots. Holding each one, checking it for length, thickness, bending it a little for freshness. Nothing quite like a good strong carrot, know what I mean?.
Courgettes. You know them as zucchinis. Those green things that grow into marrows, great big things that don't fit in the fridge never mind anywhere else. Half a dozen ought to be enough.
Mushrooms and broccoli went into the trolley. Apples and Californian oranges, yum.
On the whole, the checkout was pretty painless.
Oh, please remind me to take the carrots out of the fridge an hour before I need them. Maybe I should write myself a note for that..
The rain hadn't eased up any. I desperately wanted to collect the mail. I decided to make a dash for the letterbox. I knew I'd get wet, but it'd be easy enough to dry off when I got back inside.
There'd be no chance of ducking and diving between the drops today. Before I'd got half way I was soaked. My blouse stuck to me like another layer of skin. I lifted the lid on the letterbox and pulled out the mail. Blast, it was only junk mail again anyway.
Sooner or later that web cam would arrive. When it did, I'd have some fun.
I held the mail tight in one hand, putting the box lid down with the other. Turning I saw my neighbour standing on his balcony watching me. Quickly I looked away. I slowed my pace. I walked the long way back around the front of the house, revelling in the rain as it landed on my body. It trickled down my hair, ran down my back. My stockings were sodden. Each move felt like his hands were caressing me.