APassionateFlame
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Apr 24, 2010
- Posts
- 253
Just a place for me to put my thoughts and ideas - and perhaps even ideas for stories, or the beginnings of stories.
My Place
- Thread starter APassionateFlame
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APassionateFlame
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Apr 24, 2010
- Posts
- 253
Destination
Staring out the window of the airplane, Emily was attempting to get her stomach all untwisted. That little 'fasten seat belt' sign had flashed on a handful of minutes ago, followed directly by an announcement from the Captain that they'd be landing soon. Sure enough, the lights of New York were bright against the night sky as the plane descended. And the closer the plane got to landing, the more knotted up Emily's stomach became. It was stupid, really. She'd been fine the entire trip, and now all the nerves were setting in. So what if this was the first time they were meeting? So what if she'd never actually set eyes on him in person? She had known him for ages. This wasn't just some stupid internet-spawned relationship that had led to the desire to meet up and make good on heated promises. This was years in the making, this was supposed to be easy. She might not have ever met Will in person - but he was as much a part of her life as any other friend she'd had physically by her side.
But this was different, wasn't it? Now he was going to see her, and he was going to, hopefully, wrap his arms around her. Maybe that was it. The chance to finally get to wrap her arms around Will was a tempting and enticing prospect. There was no barrier, now. No phone to just listen to his voice through, no computer screen to read his words through. It was just going to be a man and a woman face-to-face finally - and that's what had her stomach knotting up. She wasn't so overly insecure that she was worried he wouldn't want her, or that they wouldn't instantly 'click.' That would be an awfully stupid notion, considering they'd spent the better part of a decade already wanting one another - and it was obvious they shared some sort of connection. Their friendship wouldn't have lasted this long if that wasn't the case.
It's more likely the nerves just spawned from the place all nerves spawn from - an irrational fear that things would quickly go south. Illogical, irrational and completely improbable.
Somewhere in the midst of all of her thoughts, she'd gone from staring out the window intently - to drifting off somewhere else. Before she knew it, the airplane wheels were connecting with the tarmac and there was no turning back now. The walk down the tunnel toward the airport seemed like the longest walk she'd ever taken. One small hand was tucked around the handle of a black carry-on, while her other hand smoothed over the pink, just-above knee-length skirt she wore. And then, damn that walk, it suddenly was the shortest she'd ever taken - and it was over before she knew it.
There was the usual hustle-and-bustle around the terminal. People waiting for family members and other loved ones. Women and men waiting for their lovers. She had to politely excuse herself more than once to get around all the happy reunions, so that she could have a happy meeting of her own. And then there he was. He was polite, but more insistent than she was - pushing past all the other happy folks so that he could get to her.
To say that he was exactly what she expected would be an understatement. Years of pictures has prepared her - but that's like saying a picture of chocolate cake could prepare you for the taste. It just couldn't compare. She froze where she stood, maybe because she was nervous, maybe because she wanted him to come to her, maybe because she just wanted to enjoy the view for a few more minutes. No matter what the reason, she froze on the spot. Those knots and twists in her stomach started to tighten - partly out of nerves, and partly out of a feminine desire. Her mind whirled with all the sorts of clever things she could say - but the fact of the matter was, when he was finally close enough to hear her, only one word escaped her lips.
"Hi."
It was nothing special, the single-syllable word. But it was the best she could manage, because her mouth was suddenly dry and her heart was skipping beats it'd never missed before.
Staring out the window of the airplane, Emily was attempting to get her stomach all untwisted. That little 'fasten seat belt' sign had flashed on a handful of minutes ago, followed directly by an announcement from the Captain that they'd be landing soon. Sure enough, the lights of New York were bright against the night sky as the plane descended. And the closer the plane got to landing, the more knotted up Emily's stomach became. It was stupid, really. She'd been fine the entire trip, and now all the nerves were setting in. So what if this was the first time they were meeting? So what if she'd never actually set eyes on him in person? She had known him for ages. This wasn't just some stupid internet-spawned relationship that had led to the desire to meet up and make good on heated promises. This was years in the making, this was supposed to be easy. She might not have ever met Will in person - but he was as much a part of her life as any other friend she'd had physically by her side.
But this was different, wasn't it? Now he was going to see her, and he was going to, hopefully, wrap his arms around her. Maybe that was it. The chance to finally get to wrap her arms around Will was a tempting and enticing prospect. There was no barrier, now. No phone to just listen to his voice through, no computer screen to read his words through. It was just going to be a man and a woman face-to-face finally - and that's what had her stomach knotting up. She wasn't so overly insecure that she was worried he wouldn't want her, or that they wouldn't instantly 'click.' That would be an awfully stupid notion, considering they'd spent the better part of a decade already wanting one another - and it was obvious they shared some sort of connection. Their friendship wouldn't have lasted this long if that wasn't the case.
It's more likely the nerves just spawned from the place all nerves spawn from - an irrational fear that things would quickly go south. Illogical, irrational and completely improbable.
Somewhere in the midst of all of her thoughts, she'd gone from staring out the window intently - to drifting off somewhere else. Before she knew it, the airplane wheels were connecting with the tarmac and there was no turning back now. The walk down the tunnel toward the airport seemed like the longest walk she'd ever taken. One small hand was tucked around the handle of a black carry-on, while her other hand smoothed over the pink, just-above knee-length skirt she wore. And then, damn that walk, it suddenly was the shortest she'd ever taken - and it was over before she knew it.
There was the usual hustle-and-bustle around the terminal. People waiting for family members and other loved ones. Women and men waiting for their lovers. She had to politely excuse herself more than once to get around all the happy reunions, so that she could have a happy meeting of her own. And then there he was. He was polite, but more insistent than she was - pushing past all the other happy folks so that he could get to her.
To say that he was exactly what she expected would be an understatement. Years of pictures has prepared her - but that's like saying a picture of chocolate cake could prepare you for the taste. It just couldn't compare. She froze where she stood, maybe because she was nervous, maybe because she wanted him to come to her, maybe because she just wanted to enjoy the view for a few more minutes. No matter what the reason, she froze on the spot. Those knots and twists in her stomach started to tighten - partly out of nerves, and partly out of a feminine desire. Her mind whirled with all the sorts of clever things she could say - but the fact of the matter was, when he was finally close enough to hear her, only one word escaped her lips.
"Hi."
It was nothing special, the single-syllable word. But it was the best she could manage, because her mouth was suddenly dry and her heart was skipping beats it'd never missed before.
Last edited:
Light Ice
A Real Bastard
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,397
And what about kisses?
What about kisses from nowhere? The kind where your little cheeks get framed by strong hands with rough palms, battered fingers showing surprising care as they lift your face so easily that your body rises on tip-toes to follow. A soft kiss, catching you without lip gloss, playing on the sweetness of your mouth's nude curve and the contrasting softness of full lips against a man's thin ones.
Tongues tangle, clash, your taste plundered brazenly and without apology.
Is this a place for that?
What about kisses from nowhere? The kind where your little cheeks get framed by strong hands with rough palms, battered fingers showing surprising care as they lift your face so easily that your body rises on tip-toes to follow. A soft kiss, catching you without lip gloss, playing on the sweetness of your mouth's nude curve and the contrasting softness of full lips against a man's thin ones.
Tongues tangle, clash, your taste plundered brazenly and without apology.
Is this a place for that?
APassionateFlame
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Apr 24, 2010
- Posts
- 253
Your kisses are welcome anytime, sweetheart. I'm surprised you even had to ask.
APassionateFlame
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Apr 24, 2010
- Posts
- 253
Snippets
He doesn't want a dominant, take-control kind of girl. Not this time. No, he definitely wants a girl he can command, and she is all too willing to play the role for this first, illicit encounter. Palms flat on the table, she glances over her shoulder with a wanton look, face framed by a flurry of hair and eyes hazy with the fog of desire. His command is quickly followed, her fingers slipping down between the valley of her breast, over the smooth skin of her stomach and between her legs; an appreciative murmur passing over her lips as her middle finger dances across her clit and then skims further down until both her middle finger and her ring finger slip into the slick wetness that waits for them. Waits for him. She's playing up the submissive role for him, fingers exploring her depths because he'd ordered her to, bent over the table because he wants her to be. But damn if she isn't getting off on the whole situation. Her eyes close and her lips part as she drops her forehead to the table, sliding her fingers from within the confines of her own body in order to glide the tips of them against that tiny little button rapidly. With quickening breath and weakening legs, it's a wonder she manages to stay on her feet at all, and it's obvious she uses the table as support, clenching the edge of it so that she doesn't fall.
"Oh honey, please."
Good lord, did she really sound that needy and wanting? The sound of his primal growl sends a brief smile dancing across her lips, pleased to find that he is not completely unaffected by watching her.
Holy fuck, he felt good sliding the tip of him against her folds, and her fingers move more feverishly as his voice finds her ears. She's coiling like a spring, winding herself up for that eventual climax that will send her spiraling completely out of control. As he thrusts into her, sending her to her toes, she lets out a sharp gasp, her fingers swiping one last time against the pulsing mass of nerves that is her clit, and then she shatters. Instinctively, her back arches and she tosses her head back as the orgasm rips through her like a tidal wave flooding the beach.
"Oh god, yes."
Her words barely find a way to hiss past her teeth as she's forced to raise her other hand to the table, slamming the palm down on the smooth surface like it's going to help her shudder past the sensations rippling through her. The smooth, velvet walls of her pulse and clench around him, and warm moisture floods over the length of him as an indication of her release. She's so hot as she pulses around him and he hisses his breath out as a result, evoking within her a feminine surge of freshly-bloomed arousal. She'd warned him about playing with fire, and he didn't listen, and so she'd bathed him in the flames of her release. Breaking slightly from the submissive act she's got going, she pushes her hips back against his seductively and moans out something that sounds somewhere between a demand and a request.
"Fuck me hard, baby. Hard and deep."
She's not much for indulging in dirty talk. Hell, she could listen to it all day long, get turned on by the dirty sweet-nothings he could whisper in her ear. But something about saying dirty things always sent a blush to her cheeks as it did not, even now in the midst of their most intimate of moments.
He doesn't want a dominant, take-control kind of girl. Not this time. No, he definitely wants a girl he can command, and she is all too willing to play the role for this first, illicit encounter. Palms flat on the table, she glances over her shoulder with a wanton look, face framed by a flurry of hair and eyes hazy with the fog of desire. His command is quickly followed, her fingers slipping down between the valley of her breast, over the smooth skin of her stomach and between her legs; an appreciative murmur passing over her lips as her middle finger dances across her clit and then skims further down until both her middle finger and her ring finger slip into the slick wetness that waits for them. Waits for him. She's playing up the submissive role for him, fingers exploring her depths because he'd ordered her to, bent over the table because he wants her to be. But damn if she isn't getting off on the whole situation. Her eyes close and her lips part as she drops her forehead to the table, sliding her fingers from within the confines of her own body in order to glide the tips of them against that tiny little button rapidly. With quickening breath and weakening legs, it's a wonder she manages to stay on her feet at all, and it's obvious she uses the table as support, clenching the edge of it so that she doesn't fall.
"Oh honey, please."
Good lord, did she really sound that needy and wanting? The sound of his primal growl sends a brief smile dancing across her lips, pleased to find that he is not completely unaffected by watching her.
++++
Holy fuck, he felt good sliding the tip of him against her folds, and her fingers move more feverishly as his voice finds her ears. She's coiling like a spring, winding herself up for that eventual climax that will send her spiraling completely out of control. As he thrusts into her, sending her to her toes, she lets out a sharp gasp, her fingers swiping one last time against the pulsing mass of nerves that is her clit, and then she shatters. Instinctively, her back arches and she tosses her head back as the orgasm rips through her like a tidal wave flooding the beach.
"Oh god, yes."
Her words barely find a way to hiss past her teeth as she's forced to raise her other hand to the table, slamming the palm down on the smooth surface like it's going to help her shudder past the sensations rippling through her. The smooth, velvet walls of her pulse and clench around him, and warm moisture floods over the length of him as an indication of her release. She's so hot as she pulses around him and he hisses his breath out as a result, evoking within her a feminine surge of freshly-bloomed arousal. She'd warned him about playing with fire, and he didn't listen, and so she'd bathed him in the flames of her release. Breaking slightly from the submissive act she's got going, she pushes her hips back against his seductively and moans out something that sounds somewhere between a demand and a request.
"Fuck me hard, baby. Hard and deep."
She's not much for indulging in dirty talk. Hell, she could listen to it all day long, get turned on by the dirty sweet-nothings he could whisper in her ear. But something about saying dirty things always sent a blush to her cheeks as it did not, even now in the midst of their most intimate of moments.
