Ravishly Imagined Never
By: James Dubeau
Wrapped only in darkness
Our two bodies writhe
Together
Passionately devouring
Lips
Souls
Feverishly hands
Rake across skin
Clawing
Grasping
Caressing
Pulling you to me
And me into you
Silken sheets drape
Across our bodies
Twisting
Tying
Binding
Our legs
Our bodies together
Star shine
Filters through
Illuminating you and I
Eyes lock
Pausing
For mere moments
Taking it all in
Heart
Mind
Body
Soul
Before attacking
Ravishing
Once again lost
In deliciously carnal
Lust
----------
My hand reaches
Across the bed
Grasping
Squeezing
Nothing but sheets
Eyes flash open
To nothingness
You were not here
Not with me
Not tonight
Not ever
Chilled air
Raises mountains
Gooseflesh upon my arms
Legs
Entire body
There was no way
You could have
Been with me
As always
Everything is a bit
Complicated
Sadness overtakes me
Only briefly
Replaced by a wolfish grin
Eyes close
As my mind
Drifts
And dances
With the
Technicolor dream
Before it fades
With the dull gray
Lights of dawn
Showing posts with label Lust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lust. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Friday, August 29, 2008
Jack Chance Case Files - Part 2: Open For Business
I gave the lazy-susan one more spin, but came up with the same results again. Cornflakes. “Cornflakes and beer,” I say to the fridge as I pull it open for a cold one. “Breakfast of champions, once again.” After pouring myself a bowl I flopped down behind my desk, put my feet up, and ate. It doesn’t taste the best but it’ll do in a pinch, and in a pinch was where I was. Between a rock and the proverbial hard place. It had been at least a month since I had a job where my income didn’t all go to bills.
A shadow moved across my office’s smoked glass door followed by a soft rapping. “Come in,” I said looking up from my bowl.
My spoon never made it back to my mouth, but my jaw decided to meet it half way. She was stunning, absolutely stunning. An image that any G.I. would kill for to grace the side of his aircraft. Big brown eyes peered out into the room, darting about with uncertainty. Mouse brown hair hanged below her shoulders, resting on a low cut beige short sleeve shirt. Black slacks ran the distance down her mile long legs. Her body was strong and athletic but with the curves and softness a good woman should have. She would have given Rosie the riveter a run for her money.
“I don’t know if I’m in the right place. My name is Joanne Stanley.” I smiled, introduced myself, motioned for her to sit, and reassured her that she was in the right place. She continued speaking but never once stopped glancing nervously around the office. “I usually can take care of my self, one has to when they live alone and work in a factory with nothing but men, but I need some help. A friend of mine has gone missing. It has been a few weeks now and I have not heard from him.”
“What is his name?” I asked.
“Robert Wallic.”
“What do you think happened? Could he just be on vacation?”
“I don’t think he would go on vacation without telling me about it. I usually watch his place when ever he leaves town, even for a weekend.”
“Do you think something bad happened to him? Was he involved with any illegal activities? Could there have been foul play?”
“I don’t know. I’m just so worried about him and I don’t know where to start looking. I don’t think he was wrapped up in any crime or drugs.”
I nodded and said that I would take the case. After going through my contract and payment arrangements I pulled out a note pad and asked her to tell me everything she knew about Robert. She talked about a wide variety of topics from how they met and became friends to what their plans were for the coming year. I interjected occasionally to brighten up some dark areas of the stories she told. By the time we were done I felt like I had already known Robert for ten years and had some decent leads to follow up. When she left I told her that I would keep in touch with any findings that would come up.
A shadow moved across my office’s smoked glass door followed by a soft rapping. “Come in,” I said looking up from my bowl.
My spoon never made it back to my mouth, but my jaw decided to meet it half way. She was stunning, absolutely stunning. An image that any G.I. would kill for to grace the side of his aircraft. Big brown eyes peered out into the room, darting about with uncertainty. Mouse brown hair hanged below her shoulders, resting on a low cut beige short sleeve shirt. Black slacks ran the distance down her mile long legs. Her body was strong and athletic but with the curves and softness a good woman should have. She would have given Rosie the riveter a run for her money.
“I don’t know if I’m in the right place. My name is Joanne Stanley.” I smiled, introduced myself, motioned for her to sit, and reassured her that she was in the right place. She continued speaking but never once stopped glancing nervously around the office. “I usually can take care of my self, one has to when they live alone and work in a factory with nothing but men, but I need some help. A friend of mine has gone missing. It has been a few weeks now and I have not heard from him.”
“What is his name?” I asked.
“Robert Wallic.”
“What do you think happened? Could he just be on vacation?”
“I don’t think he would go on vacation without telling me about it. I usually watch his place when ever he leaves town, even for a weekend.”
“Do you think something bad happened to him? Was he involved with any illegal activities? Could there have been foul play?”
“I don’t know. I’m just so worried about him and I don’t know where to start looking. I don’t think he was wrapped up in any crime or drugs.”
I nodded and said that I would take the case. After going through my contract and payment arrangements I pulled out a note pad and asked her to tell me everything she knew about Robert. She talked about a wide variety of topics from how they met and became friends to what their plans were for the coming year. I interjected occasionally to brighten up some dark areas of the stories she told. By the time we were done I felt like I had already known Robert for ten years and had some decent leads to follow up. When she left I told her that I would keep in touch with any findings that would come up.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
That's My Dog
I was walking down the street, leash in hand, taking my dog out for a walk. It was a sunny day and the few birds in the sky were chirping their hearts out. A puffy white cloud or two floated by, one of which looked surprisingly a lot like a ’57 Chevy.
A cute blonde was roller-skating towards me. Well, cute is more an understatement. Her skates were filled with long tan legs that reached all the way up to black spandex running shorts. Her taught stomach glistened with sweat which dripped from a crimson sports bra. A smile arose on her lips as she approached and her eyes scanned me from top to bottom. “Aww, what a cute puppy you have,” she said with a giggle as she approached.
I mumbled a thanks and smiled. We started talking about puppies and the weather, you know, that kind of stuff you talk about when you don’t know someone well enough to strike up a real conversation. There the moment that I was dreading came to a head. A “hurk, hurk, hurk,” came from below us. As we both looked down, horrified, my dog barfed all over her skates. “Yep,” I said as he started to lick the vomit up, “that’s my dog.”
A cute blonde was roller-skating towards me. Well, cute is more an understatement. Her skates were filled with long tan legs that reached all the way up to black spandex running shorts. Her taught stomach glistened with sweat which dripped from a crimson sports bra. A smile arose on her lips as she approached and her eyes scanned me from top to bottom. “Aww, what a cute puppy you have,” she said with a giggle as she approached.
I mumbled a thanks and smiled. We started talking about puppies and the weather, you know, that kind of stuff you talk about when you don’t know someone well enough to strike up a real conversation. There the moment that I was dreading came to a head. A “hurk, hurk, hurk,” came from below us. As we both looked down, horrified, my dog barfed all over her skates. “Yep,” I said as he started to lick the vomit up, “that’s my dog.”
Friday, August 15, 2008
Jack Chance Case Files - Part 1: Eye Inside
A couple sat down on the edge of the bed. He was older; his silver hair glistened in the light. She was younger; her long blonde hair flowed past her shoulders. They held each other’s hands and gazed into each other’s eyes.
It seemed like eternity before one of them spoke, although it was only a few moments. As she spoke her left hand moved to pet the red comforter that was spread across the bed, it slid back and fourth. When he spoke her hand instantly stopped moving. A tear ran down her cheek and she rubbed it away.
She stood up and yelled at the man. Her hands clutched her chest, covering the cleavage that her slinky black dress had left exposed. He stood and approached her with his arms out stretched, as if to comfort her.
As he came near her she reached out and slapped him across the face. He staggered back in shock and rubbed his jaw, then he lunged forward and wrapped her up in his arms. She struggled but could not wiggle out of his grasp. His words calmed her and the struggling subsided. His grasp of her turned into an embrace as their lips met in a passionate kiss.
Together they made their way back to the bed. Their lips locked together as she struggled to remove his suit and he her dress. Soon they were lying entwined on the bed in a naked embrace.
In the next hotel room over I took a drag on my cigarette and gave a long exhale as the scene unfold before me on the TV screen. Some dame had wanted me to track down her husband and his nightly affairs. It wasn’t hard to track down where he went at night; it was always the same hotel every Wednesday night. All I had to do was pay off the desk clerk to give the guy the room next to the one I had rented. The rest was just setting up the camera in the ductwork and waiting. Come morning I’ll be handing the tape off to his wife along with a card for a divorce attorney buddy of mine.
To the untrained watcher, my job seems like a grizzly business. I get paid to snoop around in other people’s garbage and root out their darkest secrets. Tailing a husband that had been suspected by his wife to be an adulterer is pretty standard fair around these parts. The big cases that turn up in the movies are always a work of fiction. A drop-dead gorgeous dame that falls into a detective’s lap with a case full of murder and intrigue never happens.
It seemed like eternity before one of them spoke, although it was only a few moments. As she spoke her left hand moved to pet the red comforter that was spread across the bed, it slid back and fourth. When he spoke her hand instantly stopped moving. A tear ran down her cheek and she rubbed it away.
She stood up and yelled at the man. Her hands clutched her chest, covering the cleavage that her slinky black dress had left exposed. He stood and approached her with his arms out stretched, as if to comfort her.
As he came near her she reached out and slapped him across the face. He staggered back in shock and rubbed his jaw, then he lunged forward and wrapped her up in his arms. She struggled but could not wiggle out of his grasp. His words calmed her and the struggling subsided. His grasp of her turned into an embrace as their lips met in a passionate kiss.
Together they made their way back to the bed. Their lips locked together as she struggled to remove his suit and he her dress. Soon they were lying entwined on the bed in a naked embrace.
In the next hotel room over I took a drag on my cigarette and gave a long exhale as the scene unfold before me on the TV screen. Some dame had wanted me to track down her husband and his nightly affairs. It wasn’t hard to track down where he went at night; it was always the same hotel every Wednesday night. All I had to do was pay off the desk clerk to give the guy the room next to the one I had rented. The rest was just setting up the camera in the ductwork and waiting. Come morning I’ll be handing the tape off to his wife along with a card for a divorce attorney buddy of mine.
To the untrained watcher, my job seems like a grizzly business. I get paid to snoop around in other people’s garbage and root out their darkest secrets. Tailing a husband that had been suspected by his wife to be an adulterer is pretty standard fair around these parts. The big cases that turn up in the movies are always a work of fiction. A drop-dead gorgeous dame that falls into a detective’s lap with a case full of murder and intrigue never happens.
Monday, July 28, 2008
The Liar and The Whore
“What the hell is this?!?” The man shouted as he kicked open the bedroom door. A fist of papers was grasped in his hand as he stormed towards the bed. The form in the bed just rolled over and groaned towards the verbal assault. “Who the hell are you? I invite you into my life, I give you all that I have, but what for? You are nothing but a liar and a whore.”
“Your not talking any sense baby,” the form said from under the covers. “Come back to bed, I’m cold.”
“No! I want you out of my house and out of my life. I never want to see you again.” He yelled as he pulled the covers off of the bed.
“Why did you have to do that?” the girl asked as one hand rested on her naked stomach and the other rested under her head and pillow. “We had a good thing going. Why did you have to go and ruin it?”
“Who are you? These papers say that you aren’t the woman that I fell in love with.” He threw the papers at her in disgust. “I don’t want some sort of crook under my roof.”
She sighed as she withdrew her hand from under her head and beneath the pillow. Her heavy navel revolver was brought into view and roared to life. Fine red mists exploded from his body as shot after shot penetrated his body. His blood splattered across the room and covered her naked body as he fell to the floor. “Why did you have to ruin it,” she asked, “We had such a good thing going.”
“Your not talking any sense baby,” the form said from under the covers. “Come back to bed, I’m cold.”
“No! I want you out of my house and out of my life. I never want to see you again.” He yelled as he pulled the covers off of the bed.
“Why did you have to do that?” the girl asked as one hand rested on her naked stomach and the other rested under her head and pillow. “We had a good thing going. Why did you have to go and ruin it?”
“Who are you? These papers say that you aren’t the woman that I fell in love with.” He threw the papers at her in disgust. “I don’t want some sort of crook under my roof.”
She sighed as she withdrew her hand from under her head and beneath the pillow. Her heavy navel revolver was brought into view and roared to life. Fine red mists exploded from his body as shot after shot penetrated his body. His blood splattered across the room and covered her naked body as he fell to the floor. “Why did you have to ruin it,” she asked, “We had such a good thing going.”
Friday, March 09, 2007
Parallel Play
There she is
On the dance floor
Just a few feet from me
A smile on her face
Gleam in her eye
And grove in her step
All illuminated by the strobe lights
With my unique brand of funk
I slide into place next to her
Flashing a smile
When ever she looks my way
But alas my efforts go unnoticed
When the music dies away
She fades away into the crowd
And I am left alone
On the dance floor
Just a few feet from me
A smile on her face
Gleam in her eye
And grove in her step
All illuminated by the strobe lights
With my unique brand of funk
I slide into place next to her
Flashing a smile
When ever she looks my way
But alas my efforts go unnoticed
When the music dies away
She fades away into the crowd
And I am left alone
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