Dangerous Women, Fiction, Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation, Romance

Iowa Assignment

Iowa Assignment

sycamore-access-des-moines-iowa

 
 
 

Photo by JRE13

 
 
 
Mia stood resolutely in her boss’ office, with white-knuckled hands gripping the edge of his desk. 

 
 
 
“You’re sending me to Iowa? Iowa? For God’s sake, Hal! I said I needed time to think not miles and miles of nothing to do,” she argued.

 
 
 
“You’re going,” he stated emphatically.


“Hal! I’m a Reporter! What in hell is there to report in friggin’ Iowa? Did someone see Jesus in a cloud,” she spat with incredulity.

 
 
 
“Mia, you’re getting married in a month. Even if you don’t attend the meeting, I’m making you go. Go and think about this,” Hal insisted, not backing down.
 
 
 
 
His face was filled with concern and his brows furrowed every time he looked in her direction. Mia took a deep breath and relented slightly,

 
 
 
“Enforced vacation,” she queried.


“Yes,” he said unapologetically, “You’re engaged but not wearing his ring. Face it, there’s something wrong in paradise. Spend some time at Sycamore Access. Take some fabulous pictures. Sit by the river and really think about this. You’re not happy, Mia.”


 
 
 
Mia stepped back and took a seat in the leather chair, recalling how arguments as vehement as this one used to end in wildly passionate sex. Her heart dropped from chest to feet. She knew he was right.

 
 
 
“Okay,” Mia agreed, “On one condition,” she said with a hungry smile as she stood and walked toward him.

 
 
 
Hal grinned tentatively, backing up in his seat, warning, “Mia,” but she knew he still wanted her as much as she wanted him.


 
 
 
Mia approached like a cat preparing to pounce. Hal pushed his chair back until it hit the wall. He was trapped. She grinned licking her lips.

 
 
 
She unzipped her skirt and stepped out of a black half-slip revealing garte belt, black stockings and heels. She leaned down to unbuckle his belt and remove his dress slacks.

 
 
 
“Mia,” Hal warned, drawing her name out, “What are you doing? Remember, you’re en—”

 
 
 
She placed two fingers over his mouth and quietly shushed him, “Shhh. Don’t,” she instructed him.

 
 
 
Hal fell silent. They hadn’t made love in months. Both had reluctantly agreed that an office romance was entirely too complicated, especially in an office filled with nosy reporters.

 
 
 
Finally he was naked from the waist down and Mia seized the moment. He was already harder than she had ever seen him and closed her lips around him. She ran her tongue around the head of his stiff cock as his head fell back and he releasing a groan.

 
 
 
Mia pushed him fully into her mouth through tight, sucking lips while stroking his length with her warm, moist tongue. Slowly, she pulled away and straddled him. Hal gripped her ass whispering how he had missed this.

 
 
 
“Mmm hmm,” she replied, unable to speak intelligently. Mia watched his face, his closed eyes, the wrinkles in his brow disappearing, and then pushed up and down his entire length. God, he was hard.


 
 
 
Hal grasped her tight little ass cheeks more tightly and stood to push her down on his desk. She pulled up her knees and perched four-inch stilettos at the edge of his desk while he ravaged her, kissing her everywhere he could reach, pounding her tight wetness while his balls slapped her ass.
 
 
 
Hal pinched her pink nipples softly squeezing her full, aching breasts, making consummate love until they built a crescendo that insisted on release.

 
 
 
Mia bit her lip hard to stifle a scream, and he held his breath as his thick girth throbbed inside of her.

 
 
 
By the time they were spent, it looked like a small bomb had detonated in his office, just like old times, Mia reminisced. She knew it was now or never. She had him exactly where she wanted him.

 
 
 
Mia’s breath caught as he softened, still sheathed deeply within her, and said,  “Please Hal, don’t make me go.”

 
 
 
She plead batting eyelashes slightly as Hal reached for his desk drawer. She waited pensively, wondering what he would find to use for a makeshift toy. Instead, he retrieved the airline ticket and stuffed it into her parted crimson lips.


 
 
 
“You’re going,” he said staunchly.


 
 
 
Mia groaned, rolling her eyes, and mumbled around the envelope, “Alone or tickets for two?”


 
 
 
Hal turned to retrieve clothing insisting, “Alone, then, we’ll think about what comes next,” with the grin of a cat with canary feathers protruding from its mouth.


 
 
 
“Okay, okay,” she laughed at his determination, “but I’m already looking forward to my return!”


 
 
 
“I’ll pick you up at the airport,” Hal taunted, “Wear something sexy and no underwear except stockings and garters.”


 
 
 
Mia grinned at her victorious defeat knowing that she wouldn’t have as much to think over, now that they were beginning again.


 
 
 

 

By Wildfire8470

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©️December 20, 2018 at 8:38 PM
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Reproduction or republication of this content is prohibited without prior written permission.


 
 
 
 
 
 
Tags:  #cheating #infidelity  #engagement #erotic #exhibitionism #love #lust #office #sex #reluctance #romance

Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation

Naked Beauty 2

Naked Beauty

Part 2

 

141B00E1-2B43-4FCD-97A9-F7A2483403AD

  

Part 1:  Naked Beauty 
  
 

Gizelle looked Jermaine straight in the eye, feeling as though she could read his emotions and really tried to. Jermaine tried to speak but could not form words.

  

She was looking into his eyes and straight down into his soul. He felt as though she was seeing every one of his most intimate secrets while he was drinking in her beautiful face and loving nature. He was overcome with the intoxication of it, and realized that her incredible beauty was so much more than skin deep.

  

That thought registered and hit him like a sack of hammers to the head. He tried to look away, but Gizelle cupped his face in her hands and drew him in to hold him tightly.

  

With both of them on their knees, holding onto each other, Jermaine could see that she was at least five or ten years younger than he was, yet she didn’t feel young to him.

  

She is frighteningly wise beyond her years, he mused. Most women her age are terribly silly and self-absorbed, he recalled, but there is something about this woman, something deep and profound that I must know and understand.

  

He struggled for the right words, though the language barrier was hard enough, but with her naked warmth pressed to him desire was driving him to distraction and he could neither think nor focus, so he held onto her like she was his last vestige of hope.

  

This is not a choice, he realized, It’s a calling. Suddenly he thought of Vera and swallowed hard not knowing if, or how he was going to explain what had transpired here. He held Gizelle more tightly and offered up a silent prayer.

  

Gizelle felt his discomfort, but she would not let him go until she felt his anguish ease. She had never seen such desolation in a man before, though it brought hard memories to the fore. She pushed them back into the past. There would be far too much time to deal with memories later.

  

She ran soft fingers up and down his back and then locked him into her embrace again, meaning to offer Jermaine succor, though she was not entirely sure why his suffering had stricken her so profoundly. She only knew that this was right, that it felt very right in ways she had not intended, though he did not push her away.

  

Finally, a soft sigh escaped him and again she placed her hands at his cheeks, as her deep-set eyes searched his own. He appeared relieved and happier now. She read contentment on his face and gave him a grateful smile.

  

Gizelle kissed his cheek, got to her feet, scooped up her blanket, and tossed a farewell over her shoulder, “Adiós mi amigo Tal vez te vea de nuevo algún día. Goodbye, my friend. Perhaps I will see you again someday.”

  

Jermaine hesitated to move, still feeling the warmth of her naked, silken curves pressed to him. His skin tingled with expectant anticipation yet he hadn’t made a move. He hadn’t dared.

  

Shaking his head, he sorted his racing thoughts. It’s too new, too deep, real and special, and I was frightened she would scamper away — as she just did! He scrambled to get to his feet but stopped, still kneeling.

  

Jermaine smiled softly and sifted through the sand to find her ring beneath his knee. He made a mental note of a small diamond set in yellow gold and then studied the direction in which she had departed.

  

Gizelle had just rounded a corner and he lost sight of her. She must have managed a quick change in a dark corner, he noted.

  

He stood with renewed purpose and pocketed the ring. Darkness fell with a light mist hanging in the air, which did not not deter him. He started after her, following at a safe distance.

  

Keeping to the safety of shadows, he felt like a stalker, but secure in the knowledge that if she exited his life again, he would know where to find her. I will never lose her again, he strengthened his resolve.

  

Gizelle ducked into a small cafe, obviously familiar with the place. He watched her conversing with a waiter who lead her to an outdoor table.

  

Jermaine paused, fondling the ring and watching her smile, searching for anything which would denote that the waiter was more than a friend. He studied her features and wondered who had given it to her.

  

It could be an engagement ring or possibly a promise ring, he decided, feeling the first stirrings of unfamiliar jealousy, but then realized that he hadn’t thought of Vera for longer than a fleeting moment. Jealousy vacated in lieu of reality as he was newly filled with volition and compelled to continue.

  

Gizelle reappeared and continued to a modest house not far from the cafe. He wondered how she afforded it and whether she was living with the man who gave her the ring. He scribbled the address on a receipt from his wallet.

  

Jermaine pushed it back into his jeans and turned to go, whispering a wish torn straight from his soul, “We will see each other again and ‘someday’ cannot arrive soon enough for me.”

  

He continued on his stroll back to the hotel and caught himself smiling and feeling happier than he had been in a very long time.

  

He lay awake late into the night, turning her ring over between his fingers, thinking of what a delicate flower she seemed, yet how much strength and sensitivity it had taken to recognize pain in a stranger’s eyes and drop her own immediacy to hold and comfort him.

  

You are beautiful inside and out and I already long to possess you, he thought, as he tucked the jewelry into his pocket and fell into fitful sleep only a few hours before sunrise.

  
  

 

Naked Beauty, Part 3

  
  

by Wildfire8470

  
  

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©️December 15, 2018 at 7:48 AM
All Rights Reserved    

  
  
  
  
Tags:  #love, #lust, #fiction, #betrayal #cheating #infidelity #models #photography #erotic #romance #mystery #WiP #Spain #stalking #exhibition #voyeurism #amwriting
  
  
  
  
Reproduction or republication of this content is prohibited without permission.
  
  
  
  

Erotic Romance, Fiction, Infidelity, Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation, Romance

Naked Beauty 1

Naked Beauty

Part 1

DF02F182-EAE8-4712-8EB9-90563970F6E5

Image from Revelist


Jermaine had thought of nothing but the success of this assignment. He boarded the plane with his hopes up higher than the flight would take him. Then Vera had fallen ill. He got her voicemail at the hotel.


Vera hadn’t realized that the milk in her refrigerator had turned while she was bucking for a promotion beneath Jermaine’s boss. She was quite fond of Jermaine, but Mack was much wealthier, more established, and more likely to settle down soon.



She had arrived home ravenous the next morning, never guessing that the power had been off all night. Vera only read about the fierce storm as she stirred milk into her morning coffee and drank her third cup. She finished reading the weather, made the connection, and dropped the cup as her stomach lurched.



Karma had never approached her subtly and she knew that it was going to be a vengeful bitch this time as well.



Jermaine had been far too preoccupied to notice that she had been much less than attentive lately. He had neglected her a little bit, but Vera knew she wouldn’t have needed much of an excuse. She had always been drawn to money and power. Vera grinned wickedly, thinking, Mack has all that and more.



Gizelle would be her replacement on the shoot. Man stealing little jezebel from hell, she thought, clutching her stomach, much too ill to care more deeply at the moment.



Jermaine knew he would lose the shoot entirely, possibly with his enviable career, if he couldn’t pull off an incredible feat of magic. He paced the room, mumbling to himself, “Some men make women disappear. How do I make the perfect woman appear in front of my lens?”



Vera has it all, he surmised dejectedly. No one is as excellent for Spain as she is. What am I going to do now?  Picturing her, Jermaine spat his frustration acidly, “You just had to poison yourself the day before a shoot that will make or break me, damn it all!”



He strode across the room raking his fingers through jet black locks. Leaning into the ornate sill over looking Malvarossa beach, he peered out the window in full-blown panic, not seeing the rich beauty of his surroundings, the opulent Hotel Balneario Las Arenas, or the sand and blue green sea innate to Valencia, with the sky a barely perceptible difference in shade, but a world of change from New York’s steel and grey scenery. All hope was lost and he no longer cared to observe. It was too painful.



There was nothing left to do but stare out at the pink hued sunset, the long expanse of sand and the perfect translucent, turquoise sea, in which to drown myself when I get the axe, he added dismally.



Then his gaze landed on her. Lying on a blanket far off in the distance, completely unguarded in sleep, was the naked beauty he had been praying for.



Jermaine blinked and shook his head, certain that she was a mirage or that he would wake up to realize he had only dreamed her.



Instinct and adrenaline took over. He raised the camera dangling from his neck and snapped his first photograph of her. Viewing her through the telephoto lens, he took stock with a critical photographer’s eye.



She had skin like liquid velvet with a slight blush on her face, obviously unaccustomed to lying nude beneath the sun, he smiled despite himself, well pleased with that rumination.



Jermaine had seen many beautiful women, had bedded more than half, and was always dismayed that so many had leathery, sun damaged skin.



Look at that red hair, he grinned with his heart racing, longing to drive his fingers through the silky riot. That’s not a color you can get from a bottle, he beamed, happily lost in his voyeurism.



Suddenly she stirred, causing him to drop the camera. She’s leaving! He ran from his luxurious surroundings as though the room were on fire. With his stomach in knots, he paused midway to catch his breath and then ran faster. His lungs were near to bursting when he found the place he had seen her.



Jermaine dropped to his knees as his hopes fell away. He placed his hands on the still warm indentation of her exquisite body and closed his eyes in grief when a musical voice startled him out of his thoughts.



“Por favor señor, encontraste mi anillo? Please sir, did you find my ring?”



Jermaine opened his eyes to find the naked beauty wrapped in a blanket and speaking to him in a language he didn’t understand. Her thumb grazed her ring finger urgently and the message was conveyed.



“Ring! You’ve lost your ring,” he said, gesturing to indicate his understanding.



“Sí. Por favor, ayúdame a mirar. Yes. Please, help me look.” Gizelle knelt down to run her hands lightly over the sand, pleading with her gaze.



Jermaine pretended to search, knowing that his knee had landed on it. Not wanting to risk losing her twice, he kept it hidden, asking, “Do you speak English?”



“¿Inglés? Un poco. Lo intent. A little. I try,” she stumbled, still searching the immediate area frantically.



“Okay, that’s good,” he exclaimed gratefully.



“¡No, no es bueno! ¿No lo entiendes. It’s not good! Do you not understand?” she asked, obviously mistaking his meaning and emphatically pointing to her ring finger.



Suddenly, her full meaning registered in mind and he understood completely now. She’s engaged to another man. She’s promised to another! He hoped his devastation didn’t show.



Gizelle glanced at him and realized he was utterly crestfallen. He had the look of a man in great physical pain. Though she didn’t understand most of his words, she understood the look of personal torment. It touched her heart and she forgot her own panic.



Gizelle tucked the blanket around her, sat down in the sand and gently took his hand. Jermaine’s breath caught as they looked into each others eyes.





Naked Beauty Part 2




By Wildfire8470

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©️December 15, 2018 at 7:48  All Rights Reserved

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected




Reproduction or republication of this content is prohibited without permission.

 

Tags: #WiP #love, #lust, #erotic, #fiction, #betrayal #cheating, #infidelity, #karma, #lovers, #models #photography, #voyeurism  #mystery, #amwriting, #WiP, #international #romance #Spain,#Valencia #stalking, #exhibition





Erotic Romance, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Infidelity, Love and Lust

Desperate

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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