Erotic Romance, Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation

Naked Beauty

Naked Beauty

Part 1

 Naked Beauty

 

 

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. She only read about the fierce storm as she stirred milk into her morning coffee and drank her third cup.

 

Karma had never approached her subtly and she knew that it was going to be a vengeful bitch this time too, even though 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 anyways. She had always been drawn to money and power.

 

Gizelle had been her replacement on the shoot. Man stealing little jezebel from hell, she grumbled, clutching her stomach, much too ill to care about much else.

 

Jermaine knew he would lose the shoot entirely, along 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 had it all, he surmised dejectedly. No one is as excellent for Italy as she is. What am I going to do now? Picturing her, Jermaine voiced his anger, “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, he peered out the window in a full blown panic, seeing the pink hued sunset, an expanse of white sand, and the translucent, turquoise Mediterranean Sea. In which to drown myself after I get the axe, he added dismally.

 

Then his gaze landed on her. Laying on a blanket, completely unguarded in sleep, was the naked beauty he had been praying for. He 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. Jermaine 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, and he smiled, pleased with that rumination.

 

He’d seen many beautiful women, had bedded more than half, and was always dismayed that so many had sun damaged skin. Look at that red hair; he grinned, 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. He ran from his luxurious surroundings as though the room were on fire. With his stomach in knots, he paused to catch his breath and run faster.

 

His lungs were near to bursting when he found the place he had seen her. Jermaine dropped to 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. A musical voice startled him back alertness.

 

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

 

Jermaine opened his eyes to find his 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. 

 

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

 

Suddenly, her meaning registered in mind and he did fully understand now. She’s engaged to another man. She’s promised to another. He hoped his devastation didn’t show.

 

She glanced at him and realized he was crestfallen. He looked like 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 took his hand. Jermaine’s breath caught as they looked into each other’s eyes.

 

 

 

By Wildfire8470

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© April 22, 2018 at 8:13 AM

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected

 

 

Tags:  love, lust, erotic, fiction, cheating, infidelity, karma, lovers, romance, voyeurism

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

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected LBVW-3BQF-5B0Y-I61P