Sometimes, wonderful scenes or stories come randomly, and with no planning or preparation.
So night I took this idea for a short little romantic scene, written in first POV, which is quite new to me, and just wrote.
Enjoy the read, and tell me what you think!
Touch By: AW
Clarke
No
The frown became more evident,
lining my face as I saw my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were latched to
the little bits of fat that sat out from the edges of the beautifully laced
corset that my wonderful husband of five years had bought for my birthday.
What happened to me?
Nothing
appeared to fit right. Sure, as we age, we all change a little here and there,
and this supposedly sweet and sexy outfit Luke bought for me looked more like a
haunting curse on my body than it was a representation of my sex appeal.
What sex appeal? My tummy hadn’t
been this big in years. And I’m growing curvier in places I never knew existed.
I should start exercising more.
I looked at the tired form in the
mirror once more with a deflated hope of enjoying the romantic night in that
Luke had begged of me for weeks.
Does he not like me anymore? Am I not pretty enough for him? I
unzipped the corset and slipped out of its constrained stitching, the frown now
buried deep on my face, and tossed it aside.
Looking at my naked body in the
mirror I silently pondered my past. What
happened?
Moments later, I looked to our king-size canopy bed where my
thick warm pajamas lay, waiting to comfort me. I slid on the light elastic
cotton pants and buttoned down the pretty pink top and took one look in the
mirror then let out a sigh.
More
angry at myself than anyone, I tossed the enticing red crotch-strap corset into the corner of
the room and headed to the kitchen to look for some ice cream.
Luke
and I have been married for five years. Five wonderful, happy, exciting years.
I can’t imagine being with a more wonderful, caring, funny man. They say it’s
true that you should marry your best friend. In fact, it was he, who, as my
friend of eight years once told me “You should take all the time in the world
to grow one or two really good friends. Then one day, you might be lucky enough
to fall in love with that one friend you know so well.” I truly do love Luke. I
can’t picture my life with anyone else.
But as
of late, I don’t know what it is…I’ve been in such a funk. With things changing
at work, and the season now colder, all I find is myself taking refuge in
curling up at home with some junk food and a growing lack of energy. He’s
mentioned us joining a gym to stay fit well into our thirties, but I just can’t
shake this rut.
The
Cookies-n-Cream in my mouth give me some escape. An escape, perhaps, which is
nothing more than a kick of the can down the road to an eventual meltdown. I
look across the room at the person sitting on her bed through the mirror eating
from the tub and the silence in the room lingers with a thick melancholy.
“Hey
sweets. I’m home. What a day.”
I hear Luke’s footsteps as the front door to our flat closes
and the place no longer feels desolate.
“Hi baby.”
Luke kicks off his shoes along the floor and he springs across the hall and surprises me at the bedroom
doorway.
“Happy birthday sweetheart. These
are for you.”
He approaches me with that
heart-melting smile he won me over with on our first date. In his hand he has a
bouquet of sweet smelling long stem roses, and places them on my lap, still
buried under the blankets. He leans in and kisses me on the lips.
“Mmmm. Cookies-n-Cream
lipstick? You’re so kinky.”
I smile at his usual corny humor,
but the grin fades as I look down at the beautiful bouquet. Its colour kills my
mood, reminding me of the evil pudge pinching bodysuit he’d gifted me this
morning for our night together.
Luke gazes at me with a look of
concern. “Honey, what’s wrong. You don’t like the flowers?”
“I do.”
“Then what’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“You lie like a rug!” Luke takes
a seat on the bedsheets inches away from me and attempts to dissect my mood
while lifting his work shirt up over his head.
“Tell me Lola. What’s wrong? I
can tell something’s not right.”
I look away, almost afraid to
bring up the source of my insecurities.
Luke then rests a hand on my arm
and rubs it reassuringly. “Come on. Hey. I am your husband. You can tell me
anything. It’s me and you baby. Always.”
I shrug as the tears begin to
well in my eyes, trying to keep them restrained by tracing a finger along the
soft petals of my lovely roses. If its one thing that has always melted me, it
was Luke’s touch. The reassuring warmth of his hard-working hands at the end of
the day always fetched the best of me. And so, with his hand on my shoulder and
mine on the lap full of flowers, I feel safe, and open up.
“I don’t feel right in my skin.”
“What?” Luke’s eyes widen,
shocked by my statement.
“Lola. You have got to be kidding
me. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Sweetie, from
the moment I saw you when we were just kids, I knew I wanted to be by your side
forever.”
Luke
was always mistaken for a charmer. Truth was, since we were friends for so long
in our teens, I knew for a fact that he never played with words. And it was for
that honesty that I came to love him hard. I knew that whatever left his mouth
was never sugar coated.
My lips fight its frown for a
grin, and while the battle ensued, I edge out more of my concerns.
“It’s just…you bought me that
thoughtful gift…and I can’t say I fit in those types of things anymore.” My
words cue the first tear to leave my eyes, and it slowly trails down my cheek,
but not before being swept aside by Luke’s thumb.
I close my eyes, wishing that
time could wind my body back several years, and drop it off at my much younger,
tighter self. But wishes like these were unhealthy and laced with regret, so I
simply cradle Luke’s hand in mine and continue to weep, as it’s all I can do.
“Sweety…” Luke edges closer to
me, lifting the roses out of my lap and setting them aside. He draws me close
and leans my head on his shoulder. As I whimper, I could feel him shake his
head.
“Lola. Look. I’m sorry I bought
that for you. Was I trying to make things a little fun and different tonight?
Yes. But had it known it would make you this upset, I wouldn’t have bought it.”
He gently lifts my head with a
curled finger and searches my glossy eyes. “You know I love you just the same
in these fuzzy pyjamas as I would in that corset.”
Luke could always make me smile.
He was my best friend. My rock. And I believed every word out of his mouth
enough to dwindle my tears. But seeing how down I felt tonight, my face lost
the fight to smile too soon.
Or had it…
“So, you don’t think you look
great in that red lacy thing?”
I quietly shake my head.
“I think then, it is only fair, that I be the one to wear it
tonight.”
My eyes suddenly widen at his
words and a chuckle bursts past my lips as I wipe the tears from my face. My
husband Luke was the only person I knew would could arrest my sadness and
blast it into laughter moments later.
“What? You’re kidding.”
“Naw, really, babe.” A smug grin
parks itself on Luke’s face as he attempts to right my wilted mood, at the
thought of a performance that might never be unseen.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I reply, my
lips working themselves straight, searching for a promised smile.
“I’ll prove it. Let’s see.” Luke
gets up and wanders about, searching for the lingerie piece he bought me. “Now,
where is that…oh, here it is.”
Picking it up, he holds it
between us, and examines its shape while trying to hide a look of near regret
while sizing it up.
But if there was anyone who could
make me feel good it was Luke, my soul mate; the man who was currently in a
stare down with a fitted red lace-up corset half his size.
The look of determination in his
eyes was enough to make me sit up straight, clutching the blanket around me,
eager to see his next move.
“Well, for starters, I’ll need to
take my pants off to get into this thing.” I watch Luke slip the jeans off his
thick muscular legs. He always looked great in his boxers.
My mouth hangs open as he unzips
the side of the corset and attempts to get his legs through each hole through
the lower portion that buttons at the crotch. Where did he find this thing?
I look on...
I look on...
He’s
actually doing it
I decide to play along, having
never seen my husband get so curious with a piece of ladies undergarment.
“Hey honey. You think you can do
it sexy for me?”
I then cover my mouth as he
obliges and slides the corset slowly up one leg. That’s when the giggles come
on full force. I sit and watch for the next minute as my husband challenges to simply “slip” into a silk corset he bought for my birthday.
“Wait,” he addresses, realizing
that he hadn’t slipped both feet through the bottom holes yet, so he slinks it
down and places his other foot through. He then slowly drags it up his legs in
the most unconvincingly alluring manner and I begin to laugh harder.
It isn’t long before the leg
holes get jammed at his knees. Determined to get it on, he yanks at the sides
until the buttons on the crotch snap apart, allowing it to be pulled up to his
waist. I just rest my mouth on a closed fist and shake my head in amusement.
But Luke doesn’t stop there. Eager
to make me feel good about myself, he decides to put an early death to the evil
skin sucking corset of doom. Now covering his lower torso, Luke carefully slides
an arm through each spaghetti strap and in one quick jerking motion, lifts his
arms to draw the corset upward. Immediately, the shoulder straps snap off. I
chuckle at his attempts to yank the body suit up to his armpits and do up the
side zipper in an effort to encase his handsome chest. He fails, having done up less than
an inch of zipper.
“There!” He lifts his arms in
victory. “You want me to throw on a pair of stilettos?”
“Please don’t,” I reply, one
hand raised and the other covering my face as I shake my head, still laughing.
“Thank God!” Luke lets out a sigh
of relief and places his hands on his hips. “Do you like?”
“That’s so hot on you,” I admit sarcastically. A smile finally finds
its way onto my face, after edging out the earlier frown.
I love my husband.
For years and years, I could always count on him to make me feel better.
I love my husband.
For years and years, I could always count on him to make me feel better.
He takes a moment to inspect his
body then looks to me.
“You know Lola, I believe what
you said earlier. This thing just doesn’t
fit right. What was I thinking?!”
With some effort, he manages to
pry the newly modified corset down and off his legs and crumples it up in
his hands before tossing it into a waste bin by the door.
Luke succeeded in making me smile, and what he would do next would cement my mood, and my feelings toward
myself, forever.
Taking a seat close to me on our
bead, in only his boxers, Luke whispers softly in my ear.
“You
know what I would like right now?”
“What?”
“I
would like to kiss you.”
“Sure
sweetheart.”
I soon
feel the warmth of his rugged hands cradle my jaw just above the neck and he
leans in slowly for a kiss. His lips touch me slow and soft, as if taking its
time to become acquainted with each and every vertical ridge that sweeps along
my lips, defining its shape.
My core
begins to heat as he pulls away and I look into his eyes with the same
admiration as that of the very first time we danced years ago. I was swept away
by the depth of his eyes, and wanted to make love to him as he held me so
closely. The wonderful memory floods back to me now, on the bed as I feel his
kiss and stare him deep in the eyes, wanting to drown in them.
“I’m
not done.”
“Oh,
you’re not, aren’t you?” I feel playful and nervous all at once.
Why am I feeling this way with my
wonderful husband of five years?
I figure… it’s just the way he can soothe my heart when it needs to be cradled against the storms I’ve endured throughout my life.
I figure… it’s just the way he can soothe my heart when it needs to be cradled against the storms I’ve endured throughout my life.
I go
quiet for a moment, still looking at his beautiful, luminous eyes and mutter an
admission.
“I’m
sorry.”
“For
what, sweetie?”
“For
being a mess at times.” I lean my forehead on his shoulder, seeking its warmth.
It’s not long before I feel the
sweep of his muscular arms around my body, and his next words pacify me once again.
“Never apologize for that. We are
all emotional beings.” Out of the hug, he brings my eyes to meet his. “And you,
Lola, are definitely my sweet little chaos.”
I blush, the heat in my core
spreading like waves in a pond after a stone punches through its surface.
“Thank you,” I mouth softly.
“You’re welcome,” he whispers
back.
“And as I said, I am not yet
finished kissing you.”
“Yayy! How many more kisses can I
get tonight?”
Luke looks at me with his
brilliant eyes and smiles.
“I’m going to kiss you one hundred
ways tonight.”
“What?” I ask, both puzzled by
his statement and anxious for the claim of his lips.
He proceeds to unbutton my pajama
shirt, starting with the top button.
“I am
going to kiss you one hundred ways tonight, or rather, in one hundred places on
that body that I find so beautiful.”
“Well,
you might find…two.”
By now,
Luke has released every button on my shirt and slowly pulls it down my arms,
yet not for a moment shifting his deep gaze from my eyes.
“I will
show you at least a hundred…”
The
look of calm confidence in his eyes turns me on to no end. I am both shocked by
his proposal, and eager to see what his lips would determine beautiful by his
standards.
Luke
extends a hand, and as I grab it he gently picks me up and carries me to the other
side of the bed, then gently sits me over the covers. I assume he doesn’t want
me hiding beneath them, as I sit there, wondering impatiently where his lips
will travel.
And
though I never doubted my husband’s words…just to be sure…I start counting in
my head.
Sitting
behind me, I feel Luke’s warm hands gather my long hair and hold it up as his
lips come to rest just behind my ear. They are so soft on my skin that it
ignites every nerve in my body, making me the sweet chaos of emotions that he
now nicknamed me.
“Two,”
I count in my head .
I feel the gentle drag of his
chin along my neck as he nudges his lips onto my collarbone and again shows his
admiration.
Three.
Luke takes his time to acquaint
himself with me. Slowly the number increases in my head, his lips claiming a
different part of my body every time.
He lifts my arm and dots my
shoulder, my elbow, my wrist, each fingertip of my hand in his, all kissed slowly.
I soon close my eyes to heighten each sensation on my skin, not knowing where
he’ll land next.
He lifts my arms straight up, and
his hands trace them down from wrist to just below the elbows, and his lips do
not forget the skin on my triceps that as of late, have made me so self
conscious. But my husband’s soft reassuring kiss begins to melt away my
insecurity.
Luke always made me feel loved.
And tonight, he’s doing it all over again. I feel his effects, winding me and
my body back to our youth, where we were flooded with the excitement of
discovering each other’s bodies.
But what makes all this feel so
good is that I’m feeling that wonderful energy now…
As the numbers continue to rise
in my head, I feel my husband’s sensual lips define different parts of my body
that I would otherwise want to forget about.
Thirty two…
Thirty three…
Thirty four…
The room is still and quiet, and
I am in a wonderful state of bliss.
“Lie down sweetheart.”
Luke cradles my neck as he props
it up with one of our soft plush pillows. Now on my back, my eyes open,
thinking he’s done. But I see him kneeling at my bedside, leaned over, just
staring at my half naked body with a sweet smile.
I look at him with a nervous
smile.
“What? Why did you stop?”
He responds with a warm growl,
this time sweeping my body with his hungry gaze.
“I am enjoying the sight of my
beautiful wife.”
I giggle and raise a hand to his
cheek. Admittedly, he made me feel so good about myself. Lying there, I watch
as he creeps onto the bed and sits up at my feet, gently taking one of them and
massaging it for a long while, making them easy to kiss, knowing I am
incredibly ticklish.
I continue the count. He places
my right foot on his shoulder then picks up my left foot and kisses every
detail after a gentle massage. Then, it too comes to rest on his other
shoulder.
My eyes shut again, further
heightening the receptions of my skin. I felt his body shift forward and soon
my pants are in his grip and I feel them slide off my waist and down my legs
before being tossed aside.
Luke brings his body closer, and
while being careful not to put any weight on me, I can feel only the brush of
his forearms against my waist and the soft trace of his devoted lips on my
chest, laying claim to every inch.
The way his touch travels my body
makes me feel like my younger self. I keep count as his lips works its way down
me, reminding me of how each of the growing number of body parts were not mere
flesh, but rather a beautifully valued portion of who I was, and who he had
always loved, with unending devotion.
Eighty seven…
Eighty eight…
Eighty nine…
By now,
Luke has me reacquainting myself with
more parts of my body that I had ignored over the years. The tender sections of
my inner thighs. The curves just below my belly that I often hide with baggy
clothes. The backs of my knees that I never cared to look at in the mirror, and
preferred to leave behind me…
Luke kisses them all, as a reminder
of how beautiful I truly am, and how delicately I fit together. I, his sweet chaos, a painting of brilliant hues and line work all bound by an energy he felt drawn
to from the moment he laid eyes upon it.
I could
not believe Luke’s actions as he completes his promise to kiss me in one
hundred ways. His lips have taken me to different times and places, reminding
me of how he interacted with all of me over the years, and not just in any one
place or time. The notion warms my soul even more, as almost my entire body is
taken by his lips tonight.
He
takes each hand in his grip and kisses each palm as I excitedly keep the tally.
Ninety eight…
Ninety nine…
I love
that he kissed my hands. He reminded me of how hard they work each and every
day. For me. For him. For us. Luke always knew how to make me remember that
each day is a collection of efforts and actions. And even though we might
experience moments of disparity at one time or another, it was through actions
like these tonight, that reminded me we were in this together. He and I. Two
friends who knew each other so well, would spend the rest of their lives
together, and stay strong through their efforts and actions…
Luke lowers
my hands to my sides and looks me over with his loving eyes. I gaze back,
immersed in the love of a man who knows to look past one’s thin outer shell,
however it may be decorated, to find the rich beauty of the inner self.
He then
gently rests his ear against my chest and takes his time listening to the even
rhythm of my heartbeat. He knows it’s a part of my body that, like all the
others, hadn’t really changed.
I look at Luke’s face, which
harbors a sweet smile as he hears the smooth and relaxed percussion deep inside
me, and he slowly lifts his head, turns his lips to my chest, and kisses my
heart.
“One
hundred,” he whispers.
We made love so passionately that
night. We couldn’t take our eyes off each other the whole time.
I had married a man who showed me
beauty when I couldn’t see it, gave me strength when couldn’t find it,
…and led me back to my happiness
with just his simple, loving touch.
