Let the mermaids in my teacup distract us for a while




She moves so gently over the water that it barely ripples beneath her feet. She makes no sound.

Lowering herself to sit on the surface, she bends her knees and presses her feet into the depths. She lazily swishes them back and forth, feeling the warm water move around them, between her toes, beneath her fingertips as they trace the surface softly. She takes in every detail of her surroundings.

The ocean continues endlessly, whichever way she looks. Strokes of golden purple hues are cast across the net of clouds above her by the setting sun to her left. It warms the side of her face and body gloriously.

The air around her is electric. It dances in tiny, nonsensical patterns and whispers a thousand sweet truths against her exposed skin, creating a charge she feels revived by. She cannot remember the last time she breathed with such ease. Each inhalation infuses her, the turmoil within steadily dilutes and eventually shrinks away – replaced with a clear, untainted energy. Awakened, she becomes more and more aware of the sensations in her body, the rhythmic beating of her own heart within her chest, the movement of her own energy occupying every space beneath her skin. She feels alive again, resuscitated after the heaviest of conscious slumbers. Her connection to her own existence renewed.

There is a silent purity here that she is now both filled with and overwhelmed by. It is here that her undying spirit ignites. It is here that she finds herself again.



The Hotel Room

Something about the way her gaze changed made him stop speaking mid-sentence. The only indication she gave of noticing was the slow lift of the left corner of her perfect lips. The energy between them shifted, it became electric.

With her eyes still locked on his, she sat up straight and slowly pulled her cardigan off, revealing one delicate, beautifully bronzed shoulder at a time.

He allowed his eyes to move from hers as they traced a slow meandering trail downwards – drinking in every detail she exposed to him. Her parted lips, her defined jawline, long slender neck, beautifully present collarbones.

He was mesmerized. All he could do was watch breathlessly.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Locking his eyes on hers again he swallowed hard and licked his lips. As he opened his mouth to speak he was surprised that what he had to say came out in a barely audible whisper, “Get on your knees.”

She tilted her head and bit playfully on her lip, as if contemplating her next move.

In a fluid movement, she brought her long legs around to her side; barely revealing anything beneath her skin-tight skirt, save for the tiny clips holding up her sheer pantihose. She rearranged herself onto her knees, facing him.

Relaxing her head backward, she gave him full view of that gorgeous neck again for a brief moment as she scooped her long hair together and brought it down to rest over one shoulder. “Be descriptive,” she purred, “As though my body were a marionette, and the only strings you controlled were your words.”


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