Tuesday, August 15, 2017

"Touch" A Short First Person POV Scene to Indulge In

I'm currently working on my third book, Tale of James, but last night I couldn't get inspired to write.
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

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?”
“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...
 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.
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?”
                “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 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.
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.

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