I miss Dina already :( My favorite Albanian/Tennis Partner/Everything will be home July 25th though... damn that's far away. I miss youuuuuuuu Krazy K!!!

Well, the challenge presented was to write from the male point of view. I told Anne Marie I would write something up she wishes some guy would give to her, but it's still fun to pretend. What guy actually does things like that? Dammit all... haha sucks for us. Anyway, reaction = positive. She has the rest, I'll just post this one here because I really liked it. I'm the biggest dork ever... the things I do out of boredom (and inspiration):

Anne Marie's Poem

The beach conspires alone tonight
along side of a festive boardwalk
decortated by stringed holiday lights
casting shadows on the shore.

I lay entangled amongst
the dancing grey silhouettes
Pinching fingerfuls of sand
and dropping them into your navel

Just a little laugh
ripples your lips
like a buoy that rolls through the tiding water
A small smile shivers across
the silky terrain of your mouth

Words drift off of your tongue;
free blowing in the gusts of wind
creating a curtain between us and the world
They are ignorant to silence
but ignorance is our bliss

I quietly massage my fingers
across your stomach
tentatively biting my tongue,
before i whisper your name
into the breeze

Still I give you my hand
and your grip speaks to the world
We're three in the night
Silence, you and I

Beside the soft sea-shell whispers
a single brown freckle awaits
the cascading sand I provoke
regretting to resist temptation

Wandering through your starlit eyes
that are captive only to my imagination
My hands, my soul
cant bear the elation

Pressing myself into you
I desperately move my hands
through your long brown hair
Just another inaudiable laugh
drifts and is gone with the wind

I look out to the ocean, my fortune
I always wished for company
and you found me
speaking currents like a broken seashell
washed upon the shore

This is where we belong,
in the silence,
With the sound of the ocean crashing
beneath the shadows.
a mass of bodies
two lights yeilding one
Our silence is inevitable,
we're fading
and it's beautiful...
Only when shared with you.

Kristin went tennis shopping, yesss she did. ::orgasm::

Purchased:
click me for toolish graphic
drool...

...am I a tool? Yes, yes I am. ph34r me and my tennis skills.

Erotic... perhaps? I need more prose, I seem to get more feedback. Still untitled... any suggestions?

Ryuk0 says:
iruzekara: From a literary standpoint, it's amazing description and excellent flow.
iruzekara: From a friendly standpoint, it kicks ass.
iruzekara: From a male standpoint, it makes me want to fuck the living daylights out of you

So without further ado:

As my tongue traced the edge of your chin, your head fell back and into my hands, hair flowing between my fingers. I watched the reflection of the night sky in your eyes, those serene blue pools capturing a galaxy of passion as I move across your throat. Our bodies pressed tightly, I felt the synergy of our heat surge through your neck. I crossed every pore, tasting every intricate, rising nebula of sweat as it paints your skin, as I paint with my own strokes.

You glistened with the same city lights whose distance veiled us in shadow; with the same moon whose immemorial omnipresence is the only observer we knew of for certain. Perhaps others watched the cloth twist from your torso and saw but an illusory movement of black on black; perhaps others saw that shadow eclipse the paleness of your silver skin - perhaps they now know how my tongue explores the contour of your chest, navigates your body with softly kissing lips.

But the sounds were all ours. The soft exhaust of my breath as it found rhythm with your motion; the anticipating gasps as you revealed me to the cool night air and felt my warm skin caress your face. That anticipation magnified the intensity of the passion, the fervency, but the beauty of the act could not be dismissed, and even in this propulsion I savored not only the taste or feel but the sound of my tongue crossing your lips - a whisper of the deepest intimacy, a merging of two centers. We drew one another in.

The same atmosphere of rushing cars, the faint ambient mist, the distant shutting of doors or fluttering of footsteps; all no longer propelled us into eroticism, but swirled in surreal patterns, pressing us closer together, firm as the fingers sifting through my hair, as forceful as my nails digging into your skin. Then the atmosphere, the wall, the ground, every object became a sea of suffocation wherein our every gasp for air was the body of the other, and with a base, instinctual need I breathed, drank, choked you into my mouth, my throat, my lungs.

I drowned in you. You spiraled through trenches, dug into the floors and walls and ceilings of pure current, felt yourself crush inward from every contraction as I murmered from endless leagues above. Somewhere else, my body was slick from your waves, my face glazed and neck dripping. But I could only feel the thrusting of our liquid dance, our union, I could only feel the seas part as your body, the earth, tremored, and I drank the world as it poured forth.

As if a violent storm had passed, I found our bodies embraced, drifting like reflections across a deluged land.

I found this scribbled on a piece of paper next to the lovenest... when I have an interesting dream, I like to write it down to remember it. I already got a comment from lil sis as to who the guy was, but I honestly don't remember. I don't think he had a face. I think she may be right, though. Here's what it said:

His words burned.  They seared.  They scorched.  I wish I knew what he had said.

We were in the field of paper flowers.  Pink and purple origami petals all around our feet, swaying in the wind.  The sky was dark, cloudy, and near the time the sun would fall.  The flowers were so gentle, we didn't dare move.  We just stood there, our hands together.

He leaned down.  The sky didn't matter anymore.  I could still see the flowers, because they were in front of me.  His lips were to my ears, and he whispered.  Something.

I'll never know what he said.

As he exhaled the end of his phrase against my neck, I watched the edge of a pink flower begin to singe and burn as if someone was holding a match up to it.  The fire spread, from bloom to bloom, as he held my hand tighter.  The sky was lighter now, illuminated by the burning field of paper flowers.

We stood in the middle and burned like the petals, as he clenched my hand.

I wish I knew what he had said.

......

Indifference
Glaring at me
With demonic candor

Shuddering
I turn away….

After all,
Out of sight
Out of mind
….try as I may….

Failure’s voice and eyes
Leering at me
Haunting the sinister alleys of
My most beautiful dreams
Prowling, attacking
What little was left