After Burn 2

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Part 2

Ellie 2.3

 
 

Ellie raced to the powder room nearly forgetting her purse and was relieved to find it unoccupied. She pulled her makeup bag from her purse and dragged a chair to the mirror. She sat with the brush in hand when a thousand memories returned.

She fought it, insistently sliding the brush across the blush and attempted to apply it, but concentration didn’t stop the deluge. She checked her reflection but failed to see it. Instead, she saw Ryker kiss her for the first time and her heart still skipped a beat.

Again she tried to drag herself out of it. She rifled through her bag and found the hairbrush. She removed several pins holding her hair in a braided upsweep and smoothed it with her hand when she recalled the time he had run his fingers through it, caressing her hair until she fell asleep. It was the first time they had made love.

She lowered her hand staring into the mirror but only seeing the moments with him, replaying in mind as they hadn’t in a long time. With a tear rolling down her cheek, she remembered. With the last of her determination bested, she saw him fist her hair and kiss her gently, walking her backwards.

Ellie still couldn’t pin down the exact moment she gave in to him. He kissed her until thought became feral desire. All else disappeared and fulfillment was all that mattered. They were crazed that night. Ryker fumbled with the zipper at the back of her dress and then lifted her off her feet. She began to protest when her back hit the wall and he gripped her wrists in one hand.

“I thought,” she started.

“Don’t think,” he cut her off, “just feel” and lifted her dress as she wrapped her legs around him. He deepened a kiss that made her head reel and his member entered her, hard and fast. She gripped his shoulders not realizing she had dug her nails into him. He slowed the pace, caressing her cheek until the heat and wetness between her thighs grew insistent. Ellie threw her head back in abandon, wanting harder and faster.

He cupped her tight little ass, pulled her against him and carried her to the enormous bed. He lay her down gently, still standing at the edge as she tried to squirm back further, suddenly needing some sense of propriety. He raked her naked flesh with his gaze and caught her beneath the knees to pull her back down with legs straddling him.

Smiling in the darkness, Ryker dropped to his knees and kissed her delicate feet, ankles, and shins, breathing hotly against her, sending shivers through her. He could tell she was anxious as she lifted her hips, squirming anxiously, and he made her wait another minute until he had to feast at her apex.

Ellie let squeals and gasps escape that she never heard and her wanton delight spurred him on like nothing he had known before. He kissed her stomach while lightly fondling her breasts, titillating her nipples until they could wait no longer.

He climbed to the pillows and pulled her up against him in one deft movement. She clung to him desperately, both of them kissing and nipping and tasting, wanting to recall this experience many years later. Ryker twined his leg around her ankle, effectively anchoring her, and drove himself into her hard, pummeling her as she bucked, keeping up with him until they both cried out at once.

His shaft was still semi-hard, sheathed in her pulsing wetness, each knowing they had more than satisfied the other. That was when she knew that love wasn’t about self-gratification at all. Ellie finally raised her eyes, applied her makeup, took a deep breath, and prayed that no one could read her thoughts.

 
 

By Wildfire8470

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©May 16, 2017 – 09:04 AM
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After Burn 1

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Part 1

Pink Tears2

 
 
Ellie started laughing and almost couldn’t stop. The punchline wasn’t that funny but she had needed the release badly. Six months prior, she went to bed and realized she hadn’t thought of Ryker for the entire day. Finally, she hadn’t wakened with her first thought being him. That was a first and she smiled as she closed her eyes knowing she would sleep without dreams, at last.
 
 
 
Tonight, Ellie was fully present, laughing with her best friends and actually present in the right here, right now. She wasn’t pretending to smile and she didn’t dread waking up tomorrow – finally. She no longer thought of tomorrow and that was freeing and fine with her.
 
 

Donna and Milly were her besties – forever, she told herself. Together they helped Ellie wade through the loss of her greatest love. With tiny steps and too many nights spent crying on their shoulders, and then crying herself to sleep, she had arrived back at her life and in her right mind. After mourning the loss of self and significant other, she had found her center and herself again. I’m not just breathing now, she congratulated herself. I’m alive!
 
 

Ellie sighed happily and scanned the hall for the powder room. She excused herself and took a step when her eyes landed on Ryker entering the celebration.
 
 

She froze as he smiled at her, not turning away as she had imagined this moment a year ago. Ellie’s breath caught and suddenly she knew what it felt like to be hit by a stun gun. The room whirled slightly as he walked towards her. Before he could reach her, Ellie spun and bolted for the safety of friends.
 
 

“Milly,” she said, lying a hand on her arm, “Milly, I need a moment,” Ellie whispered urgently.
 
 

“Sure sweetie, what is it,” Milly asked and then she saw Ryker approaching.
 
 

“Is there a back way out of here,” she asked, barely staving off hysteria.
 
 

“I understand,” Milly extended her hand to catch Donna’s eye and whispered to Ellie, “Stay put.  I’ll handle this,” waving Donna over with a flash of fingers and eyes filled with concern.
 
 

Her voice was protective reassurance a moment too late. Tears stung Ellie’s eyes which she riveted to the floor with her hair tumbling forward, hiding her expression. She felt pieces of her falling away as she came silently unglued.
 
 

How could he do this to me? Ellie wondered, imagining her bloodied heart splattering onto the linoleum floor. Hasn’t he hurt me badly enough? What the hell is he doing, coming back for more? My suffering wasn’t enough? God help me, he’s come to finish me off.
 

 

Ellie peered to see Ryker extend his hand to greet her friends who were plainly blocking his passage.
 

 

“Good evening, Millicent,” he said, approaching her.
 

They reluctantly exchanged hellos and Ryker held his breath. Milly clutched his palm in her fist pulling him close to her lips while Donna closed ranks behind him. Milly whispered venomously into his ear, “What are you doing here, Ryker”?
 

Donna brought up the rear, jabbing an accusing finger into his back, “Spit it out, disappearing Romeo. Why not try the truth this time,” Donna hissed.
 

Ryker looked directly into Milly’s eyes for the first time since they’d met, “I really love her,” he whispered, “I need her,” Ryker hesitated.
 

Ellie stood with her back to them, eavesdropping and peeking over her shoulder when she dared, biting back tears and wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
 

“Sure you do, just as much as you ever did, you son of a simpleton,” Milly ground out, holding his eyes in her angry stare.
 

“You need her for what,” Donna said acidly, “A night, a week, long enough to kill her this time”?

 

“I know you two don’t believe me but I need her to,” Ryker insisted, moving to step around Milly.

 

Donna caught the back of his collar as Milly fisted his necktie. Donna moved to stand next to her speaking her vengeance softly, “You’ll have to convince us first so go ahead. Try. We dare you,” she spat close enough that Ryker could feel their mutual wrath cloak him.
 

He glanced beyond them to see Ellie, with her head down and back turned. It was an insecure posture, and it was his fault. He had no desire to bring her more pain than he already had. All he wanted was to hold and comfort her, to win back the trust he had lost so foolishly. Not wanting to inflict a scene on her atop everything else, Ryker acquiesced.
 

“Okay, he said, squaring his shoulders and taking care not to break eye contact, “Why don’t we find an empty table? I’ll buy us a round and I’m all yours. You two can vent and I’ll answer every question you have. Do your worst. I’m not running.”
 

It was a boy who let her go, he realized, and I’m going to be the man she deserves, he thought resolutely.
 

Milly and Donna exchanged an incredulous glance and nodded their agreement. Milly fisted the edge of his sleeve, making sure this wasn’t a rouse. Donna stepped back to whisper quickly to Ellie, “Give us awhile. Go enjoy the party”.

Ellie turned grief-stricken eyes to her and Donna rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, whispering, “Pretense, Ellie. For now, pretend. You can do this”?
 

Ellie nodded hesitantly and Donna smiled brightly, “Make him jealous as hell, Ellie,” then winked at her and turned away to trap Ryker between Milly and herself.
 

Sliding into the booth next to him, she warned, “There are no guarantees you can convince us. Hunker down, Ryker. This is going to be a long, hard night and I offer no guarantees you will even survive it”.
 
 

 

By Wildfire8470

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© May 16, 2017 – 07:33 AM
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Part 2:  After Burn, Part 2

Desperate

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Desperate

 

In the shadows of the back room at a party, their mutual presence and timing was serendipity. His eyes met hers. She stood frozen in his gaze breathing a little too hard, her voluptuous chest rising and falling to the rapid beat of his heart. Their emotions were palpable. His countenance was that of a wolf stalking prey. Their mutual attraction was evident and insistent.

 

“Damn it,” he whispered, closing the gap between them.

 

“No shit,” she countered, throwing her arms around him.

 

Both knew the electric-blue heat crackling between them would likely be their demise. They lit the fuse on the keg of potential discovery that night, and risked life-threatening lies with every meeting thereafter. Theirs was a desperate love, demanding fulfillment at any price, so they rolled the dice knowing that any time together was too priceless a gift to remain undetected.

 

They lived on the fringes of practiced poker-faces, weaving in and out of the razor-sharp edges of night, skillfully navigating every possible means to spending time in each other’s arms, living and dying together by the tick of a clock. One ill-timed second, just the space of another breath could shatter too many lives. The intensity of their love and the depths of their attraction should have come with a HAZMAT label.

 

They were desperate and dangerous, a fatal combination, doing anything to sate the flames burning unchecked between them. They skated on killer blades across shards of icy domesticity, holding onto memories that could blast a Grand Canyon into undeserving worlds. They came together with precision, kindling, lighter fluid, and concentration. This love sliced the fragile ice with a single spark so potent it threatened to set the pitch-black night ablaze for all eternity.

 

With each of them married to another and too many lives dependent on their own, the culmination of lethal passion meant gambling everything; meeting in the small hours, slicing precious seconds in stealth to be together, or carving it out of thin air. They only existed together, arriving in disguise, signing names no one could trace, skating between luxurious hotels, the back seat of their cars, or anywhere they could lie together anonymously.

 

He breathed fervor upon her lips with his kiss and she drank his elixir with the desperate need of unadulterated addiction. He inhaled light that shone in her eyes that spoke of combustible emotions for him. Her eyes flashed an unmistakably beautiful light, like that of a Turkish lantern, conveying the sheer love in her heart and he could not look away.

 

They made vehement love with limbs wound together, bodies writhing in a deeply fierce, primal, copulate frenzy, much more incredible than either had known prior.  She vowed that her life was in the mercy of his hands.  He swore his only reason to breathe lay in the mercy of her presence in his life.

 

Together, they were salvation and damnation.  With that knowledge, they threw their craven bodies to the wolves within.  Fearlessly, they twined and bound their limbs, fondling and twisting entangled together on desperate coital fringes, loving more deeply, more intensely than their bodies would allow.  Their love was both lifeblood and lethal tonic.

 

They were junkies engulfed in gambling all on the chime of time between mundane days and rapacious nights. The two were drawn together by the pull of love like the pull of moon upon ocean, both were powerless to resist. Silently, they accepted the consequences of certain death in discovery, only truly alive in suicidal satiation, greedily welcoming the divine culmination of little death.

 

They knew the beauty of heaven in a flash that breached earth’s atmosphere with the hellish craving of junkies, both pimp and prostitute, together, offering up everything, gambling all on the craven need to torch the kindling with every dizzying orgasm. Supply increased demand and they embraced it with the honor among two who love, like thieves in the night, stealing what was not theirs to keep.

 

This couple, these two that defy every obstacle, to love, to share and bestow as one soul, united them in stealing a breath of life, each for the other, in meeting and fulfilling their ravenous taste for ambrosia, on the sharp end of a needle sans judgement, caution,  warning, and defying all labels.

 

Anyone barely glimpsing the power of their love would have killed to bottle and sell their combustion, knowing anyone would happily hand over his soul for a single sip of their cocktail. These two stole time to drink heartily and chase it with sensual fulmination; an explosion having a brilliance that blinded the gods and drowned them in their own nectar, sated and ecstatic for whatever time they claimed, each time, until the next desperate moment.

 

 

By Wildfire8470

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© January 11, 2016 – 02:16 AM

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You’re Mine (The Original)

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Standing in the shower, soapy hands in my hair, absentmindedly working the lather as I think of all that we have shared and your words echo through my mind as I lean back against the wall.

 

“You’re mine,”

 

Reaching to finger my clit as I remember your face, only inches from mine and your breath against my skin as you hissed,

 

“You’re mine. Only mine,” and I know that I am… that it is all I ever want to be.   I press one finger into my tight, hot pussy, already longing for you in ways that I have never desired another and I wonder about tonight, about the future, about how and where you will touch me, about what will become of me.

 

Closing my eyes, I run my fingers from shoulder to breast, imagining your hands on me, your fingers grazing my nipples and sliding down my abdomen, always with your voice in my head,

 

“You’re mine. You’re only mine.”

 

And I know that I am, but will never admit it.  

 

I wonder how long I’ll crave you as I slip two fingers into my aching wetness, imagining your long, hard cock slamming into me as my breath comes harder and faster. Stroking my clit harder and letting the hot water pummel me while I picture you driving your tongue into me, licking and laving me there, driving me into white-hot desperation as whimpers escape and I give in to this passionate assault.  

 

I am trembling with desire, tears are stinging my eyes, threatening to give way to the ocean behind my eyelids knowing that my soul is not my own anymore, that this heat and desire is all about you, always you, “You’re mineMineOnly mine,” and I cannot protest.

 

I cannot, will not refuse you anything, knowing that you possess me now; that you own my secretive thoughts and traitorous body. I am painfully aware there is nothing I can deny you.

 

“You’re mine,”

 

And I whisper the only reply that I have, “Yes, love. Yes. I’m yours, all yours, only yours.”  

 

Feeling you penetrate me, your cock driving into me flaming-hot and so, so hard as my tight little pussy explodes and I let the tears fall, finally admitting it, if only to myself, while fervently praying that you never test me, never find out just how much power you have.

 

I let my breathing slow picturing your strong arms pinning me to your chest, locking me into your embrace and I know… and I know… I am yours.  

 

I rinse the soap from my body with the last of the hot water. Wrapping a towel around me. I make my way into the bedroom and open the closet to pull all my work clothes aside, working my way to the back where I stashed all my “sexy clothes.” Your voice is still ringing in my ears, “You’re mine, my love. Only mine.”  

 

I pull back the dresses meant for office parties to find the short, skimpy dress that I bought just to wear for you, the one that remained hidden until now.  With trembling fingers, I pull the dress from the hanger and hold it up to me in the mirror, rolling my eyes at the slit that is almost all the way up to there, and wondering why I dared to buy such a skimpy outfit. Then taking a seat on the bed, I lay the dress beside me to lay out stockings, garters and five-inch stilettos, and then quickly pull the blankets over me.

 

I lay back on my pillows holding one against me, imagining your hard frame on top of me, feeling the weight of you holding me down. You are kissing me deeply, passionately and I am arching to press my body to yours, needing you with a fierce intensity. I slide my fingers between my thighs imagining you holding me down, pinning me hard against the mattress as you press the head of your thick, steely cock into my fiery, tight, little cunt.

 

Your hands, so much larger than mine, cup my breasts as I drive my fingers into your hair. You take my hard nipples between your lips while I close my heavy eyelids and surrender to this sweet agony. Always hearing you tell me, over and over again,

 

“You’re mine. You belong to me.”  

 

I push two fingers into my steaming-hot cunt fast and hard, thinking of your granite girth filling me, and stealing my breath as your demanding lips claim mine.

 

I remember how I fought you; fought for my very sanity and fought my own desires, squirming and writhing beneath you, fighting and pushing against you. Then both your hands were at each side of my face not letting me turn away, even as I  cursed your strength you kissed away the last of my fight.  

 

You were stroking my hard, sensitized clit and I was grinding against you, letting you claim me in ways that no one ever has. I let you bruise my lips, my neck, branding me your own, and I know… and I know… I am yours… only yours.  

 

I ache for you, my skin burning for your touch and I already feel my soaking wet pussy clinging to your rock-hard erection, driving into my hot center, forcing me open to you. You are pushing me past all of my limits, shoving me straight into the teeth of elicit, white-hot desire and making me burn for you as I stroke my clit faster and harder.  

 

I picture how you rubbed your cock against me there, grinding against me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to have you inside me. Remembering how I reached between our bodies, finding just enough space to take you with both hands and plunge you into my fiery tightness. Recalling the feeling of you, your unrelenting, steely need and letting the tension build into unbearable, electric-lust.  

 

I’m longing for your delicious completion as I force my fingers into my aching pussy again and again, harder and faster, arching to feel your broad, firm frame crushed to me, your lips on mine kissing me long and hard.

 

Your fingers stroke faster and harder until my pussy erupts, throbbing hard around my fingers and I can almost feel your full, hard length pulsing inside of me… almost… and I know… and I know… and I know… and I whisper it aloud, as if to dispel this demon, “I’m yours, love. Do with me what you will,”  

 

The words echo in my mind as my breathing finally slows. Always, always hearing you, over and again, “You are mine. All mine, only mine. Always,” until I come down from my all-consuming climax, where can I open my eyes into the darkness and still imagine you here.  

 

By Wildfire8470

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