random

Her eyes stung like deep salt water pools, that sank to the depths of an empty pit where her heart used to burn with fiery lust. Now the fire is long gone out, she is cold to the touch.

Her words are calm and deliberate, clearly she can not be ruffled, she cares not. Laughter out of mockery, elite pleasure from snobbery and flagrant wasting time endlessly.

Shades of brown surround her, mud, lifeless crabgrass, rotten oak leaves and her drab black dress tell a harsh winter story.

He turns to her and smiles, he shines with radiance. His smile is bright and rare. Her body starts to shake, her face burns hot, her belly flips and twists and knots. She has to remember to breathe. He is her flame, he is her imagination, so real she feels his touch. Gently for she is scared, tenderly he awakens her from sluggish winter days. He removes the layers, layer after layer. She is vulnerable and bare, he holds her, protects her, he is her master and her servant. Her head now flung back, he has ignited her fire, her eyes sparkle wildly, he pushes her thigh hard with his knee, she needs to feel all his strength, tears fall down her cheeks, he kisses her face frantically, it's okay, she's okay, she is just feeling, feeling something real, feeling something passionate.

Visit

Your visit was as timely as ever
Thoughts of our love soared through my mind

A fear of what's in store weighed heavy like the rocks beneath my feet

I wanted to ask you for validation

If only I could see the truth through your eyes

And there you were

But I forgot to ask, instead I gasped at your beauty

You stuck around, halted defying gravity

You are a gift the recipient never gets to open

A love letter sealed but never read

I panic, don't leave before I ask you

Your mastery for seeing through illusion, “I need to ask a favor?”

“Was our love true... can this be happening to me again... is it real?”

You fly away, vanish without trace

Disgusted with my questions or gone to the spirits in search of answers?

Fool, fool, fool, my tears sting, give me a second chance

Let me ask the one thing I'm supposed to ask you for...

“Please bird of magic allow me the gift of your vision?”

Betty's cowboy

She watched him walk down the steps of the little cessna, he looked awkward, skinnier than she even imagined he would be, his clothes too clean, too new and too cheap to blend in, made more conspicuous by the man in designer jeans, a polo shirt and flip flops, who confidently climbed down the stairs in front of him, talking on his cell phone. He obviously considers himself very important, she thought. Everything

about him wreaked of wealth, his perfect jawbone and gleaming white teeth indicated what class he belonged to. Betty had seen so many like him and his arrogance made her eyes narrow, she looks back at her young cowboy, he is nervously scanning the small crowd looking for the woman he charmingly calls Ma’am night after night in there online chat room. Betty confidently smiles at him, she can’t wait to take him home

and play dress up with her new toy. He spies her and immediately relaxes, his face lights up, like a little child who just got picked up from school on his first day. He walks a little faster and drops his bag on the hot tarmac in front of her, now Betty is the nervous one, oh my God she thinks surely he wont kiss me here in front of all these people she hastily picks up his bag and begins to walk toward her car asking how the flight was as she goes. “I sat up front with the pilot” he grins. Betty lets out a laugh, how fucking cute is he? “Well then, you must be very special, they do that on these little planes, it’s cool isn’t it?” I just did what I was told” he said with the same facetious grin she had seen a moment earlier. “Do you always do what you’re told?” Yes Ma’am, he replies with such a familiarity, they laugh. 

“Which car should we take, the Mercedes or the jeep?” He knows her car, “lets take the one that can take us down a deserted beach” “Jeep it is!” She opens the back door and throws his duffel bag on the seat, he has opened the driver’s door for her, “Are you driving Mr.?” “I will if you don’t mind us getting lost” “That’s okay, just not used to such chivalry, you’re in New England now, you can officially get away with treating women like fraternity brothers, not that I mind your gentle ways, in fact I may even insist upon you keeping it up” “that’s what she said” he comes back with. “Zip” Betty makes the sign and looks at him like a School teacher chastising her young student. He closes the car door and walks around to the passenger seat. 

“Do I look like your Mom?” Betty asks with all seriousness. “You look nothing like my Mom” he answers reaching his hands around her head a grabbing a handful of hair, then pulling her face to his and thrusting his tongue in her mouth and groping her breast with his other hand. Pulling away he looks at her facetiously-“Would I do that to my Mother? “Dear God I hope not.” 

Betty looks down at his crotch, the end of his cock visibly protruding through the khaki pants, she wishes she could unzip them and suck the cum right out of him. The fear of not having chemistry with her young play fellow was now laughable, she had seen him cum before on camera from her little home office, she had imagined every part of her covered with his bodily fluid, she remembered his mouth close to the webcam his tongue licked between two perfect smiling lips, she yearned for her pussy to be the recipient of his tongues lapping, her longing was becoming a reality and it felt like an adventure. There was no fear of falling in love, no fear of heart break or heart ache, they had had some fights and annoyed the crap out of each other on occasion, but their lust for each other was undeniable. 

“Damn, are we going to be able to make it out of the car-park?” It wasn't the first time he'd made her cum sitting in the front seat of her beat up old jeep, only this time he was sitting in it with her. “I bet I can make you cum, before we leave.” “I bet you could in a heartbeat if I'd let you, but I'd never live it down if I got caught, Jason.”

Betty turns on the ignition and drives out of the airport, Jason's hand creeps over to her thigh, she is wearing a cotton sundress, he leaves his hand on top of the dress and pushes the fabric down between the inside of her thighs. “I'm driving, lets try to make it to the house in one piece” he grabs the fleshy party of her thigh and squeezes tight “I am going to suck you and bite you here when we do get to the house” “Oh my God, you are not behaving, I am getting totally turned on... Stop!” “How wet are you?” he says grabbing her pussy. Laughing Betty replies “I mean it, you have to let me drive. We need to get some where, where you can taste my wet pussy” suddenly she pulls the car to side of the road and makes an abrupt stop, her arms reached out in front gripping the steering wheel she pushes her head back against the headrest, her ass lifts slightly off the seat and she yells “FUCK!” Then slumps back down, pleading with him, “I can't fuck you here but I cant drive.” Jason leans over to her, turning his whole body in the seat, his hand finds her cheek “aww, I'm sorry baby I'll behave, I promise.” He leans his face to hers, she closes her eyes, please no one see me, she thinks, she feels his lips gently touch hers as she relaxes into his embrace. “That's better Betty, relax” He sits back in his seat and buckles the seatbelt, “now take me home so I can do that to your pussy.” She shifts into drive and exclaims in a terrible, fake southern accent. “Yeehaw, I got me a horny cowboy to play with!” Jason grins back at her “Yes Ma'am, you certainly do!” 

"What's your name?"

“The problem with you Betty” Yatish had said once, “... you're both impulsive and apologetic at the same time.” He had also said “if you stand at the edge of the water too long it will begin to feel cold, just jump in” Or something like that. Betty didn't know why these two bits of wisdom had sprung to mind, but she was questioning if her impulse to get in the car and drive into the city to meet Oliver had ended with her too fearful to jump in. When Oliver had asked Betty “What do your senses tell you?” regarding their blossoming friendship, she answered quite honestly that it scared her so much she felt like she should be running for the hills. “Think of the weight you'll lose running anywhere” he replied.

Now as impulsively as she had accepted his invitation to the city, she had turned down his advances, however odd his operandi was and she was feeling sad about it.

The driver and his car were waiting in front of the hotel, this time he held open the front passenger door, his manner seemed gentler than before “Your ride, Ma'am” “Thank you she answered feeling embarassed by the accelerated arrival of her departure. “I'm sorry I can't drive you back to your door, but the car's owner wants it back.” “I understand” Betty said, not giving it much thought.  

“Maybe getting some rain, be nice to clear the humidity” Oh my God Betty thinks, he's feeling sorry for me, please don't talk. “Yeah it'd be good.” The drive to the station didn't take long and he had no trouble finding a parking spot. They walked in silence to the ticket counter, Betty turned away from the counter as if he was buying something expensive that she would rather not know the value of. “I'm going to step outside and smoke a cigarette, I'll see you on the platform.” “Do you mind if I join you and can I bum one?”

 They step outside the station and walk back to the car park, the driver takes out a pack of guitaints, he pulls one partially out then holds out the pack to Betty. “Interesting choice of cigarettes” he nods and flips a zippo in front of the cigarette now perched between her lips, she inhales and quickly releases the smoke. She pulls a face indicating the bad taste she has for it, “you don't smoke?” “I did, I just really feel the need for one right now.” He takes the cigrette out of her mouth and throws it to the ground, she can't believe his actions her mouth opens as she gasps, but before she can say anything he has taken the back of her head in his hand and is pressing his face against hers. He is passionate but tender, his tongue slides into her mouth and looks for hers, his other hand has reaches around to Betty's back side, his hand gropes her pantyless ass through the cool silk, he pulls her closer and presses his rocklike bulge into her crotch. She places her arms around him to find her balance as much as anything else, she wishes they were back in the suite together. Would Oliver mind his driver kissing her like this? 

The driver takes Betty's hand and leads her back into the station, without saying a word, like a parent rushing a child to make the school bus, he hurries her to the platform, they walk the full length until reaching a small building at the end. Betty leans her back against the cold tiled wall and lets go of his hand which he then slips under her dress, the tip of his middle finger slides down between her butt cheeks and finds her drenched vagina, Betty breaths out the words “Oh my God” as her eyes roll back in her head and her knees buckle. His other hand grabs her breast, Betty wishes she could drop to the ground and feel his cock inside her. 

There is a distant rumbling, Betty opens her eyes and looks toward the sound, she looks back at the man making her groin ache and thighs tremble, her face pained with longing, he strokes her forehead and then kisses her eye. The train is closer, they quickly find each others lips and lock lips like they will never let each other let go. The train stands still, they unlock their embrace she tells him with her eyes she doesn't want to leave, but he pulls out her ticket and thrusts it into her hand and pulls away from her. She jumps on board and runs to an open window. “What's your name?” she yells. Grinning back at her he yells “Oliver!”

Would you trust me if I blindfolded you? Answer...

“I hate it when the bed is made, it's not comfortable” Oliver laughs, “Please make yourself comfortable” Betty picks up the blindfold off the floor where it had fallen when she flung the sheets back and places it over her eyes, “what are you hiding, Oliver?” “No the question is what are you not seeing, when you only look with your eyes?” Betty jumps to her feet, she quickly takes off the robe, “Where is the camera?” she barks. She walks toward an oversized mirror, anchored to the wall, “Are you behind here?” she turns around looking over her shoulder and removes her dress slowly, her head turned watching herself as she reaches around and with ease unclasps her bra, tosses it in the direction of the bed and turns to face the mirror, grabbing her breasts she speaks again to the void she believes is Oliver “This is me, Betty, nice to meet you, whoever you are.” She leans in to her own reflection, tilts her head, closes her eyes and slides her tongue out, like a teenage girl practicing to kiss for the first time.

Betty laughs at herself  and runs her fingers through her hair as she heads back to the disheveled bed to refill her empty champagne glass. After two sips she lays down on the bed, the champagne relaxes her body and mind. Who cares who he is. Betty closes her eyes, she is again aware that she is half naked on a bed being watched by a man she still has never even seen an image of; his description of himself had been contradictory- he's overweight, he's buff, he likes older women, yet his pop culture references qualify him to be at least her own age, his contradictions mock her feelings for him. Betty was here because he knew she would come and because he wanted to test the limits of her desire for him. She was willing to be here because she wanted to feel something not mundane, he could have easily taken her into the woods with a blanket and a cheap bottle of chardonnay, the fact that he was paying her any attention at all, was all the hypnosis she needed. 

“Thanks for the music, the last song you sent me made me cry” “Joy?” No, the dichotomy,  'Oh--and she never gives out, and she never gives in' “No” he says argumentatively... Ah this was the Oliver she recognized from their chats “Irony then- she never gives out, and she never gives in, yet here I am?”

 “Oliver?” “Yes Betty?” “What if I have changed my m ind?” “About?” “About being willing to wear the blindfold” “Betty sweetness, you are a lady and it is a lady's prerogative to change her mind as many times as you like.” “I haven't exactly changed my mind, I answered yes I would trust you, but I never said I would be willing to.” 

Betty's eye's fill with tears, she pulls the covers up over her chest. You make me so miserable with happiness. I simply can't stand it, when we are hanging out I am giddy, you take me to the highest high and then you leave, I miss you even before you're gone, I have lost you before you're mine to lose. I can't play this game, it's too scary and too intense.

“Betty- you will be taken care of, the driver will wait for you in front, he'll drive you to the train station and get you a ticket home.”  “Thank you... Oliver?” “Yes?” “We can still be friends?” “Yes, of course” he says assuringly. “The champagne was lovely” she says remembering how he went out of his way for her. “You're welcome, I'm turning off the mike and camera now, you can continue to talk but I wont hear you.” “He knows me well, I'm an open book.” She sighs.

Betty gets up and retrieves her bra from the floor, she puts it on without thought then catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her dress is still laying in a heap on the floor, she slowly bends down to pick it up and considers maybe he is still watching her, she buttons it up slowly, smoothing down the fabric and buttoning and unbuttoning around her cleavage indecisively. Her panties feel uncomfortable, they are damp from being so turned on and even the idea of wearing them in the heat of the railway station while they rode up her ass was causing her discomfort. She reaches under her skirt and and removes them, then looks around the room, as if she is doing something quite fiendish, she decides to place them on the bed. I always like to leave a souvenir, she thinks. She turns to the mirror again raises her hand, closes her eyes and strokes the glass as if stroking Oliver's face. “I wish I could have met you, baby.”

Would you trust me if I blindfolded you? Part deux

There was something oddly appealing to Betty about her driver, his silence wasn't empty but relaxing, his face was weathered and his scowl caused a squint, but she caught a sparkle in his eyes when his gaze shifted in her direction.  She suspected he had adopted the scowl many years ago for affect and it had stuck, but his eyes could not hide his sweet soul. 

By the time they reached The Hudson Hotel lobby Betty's dress was crumpled, her hair had still not dried and in the day's humidity, she wondered if it ever would, the air-conditioning in the lobby shocked her damp skin and caused her nipples to harden and protrude. The driver pointed to an area of low couches and told her to wait, he sauntered over to the reception. As she watched him comfortably talk to the lithe, androgynous receptionist, she began to form another opinion of her chauffeur, his clothes where scruffy and his face unshaven, but he wasn't cheap; his flip flops were dusty but leather they looked like nice quality although she couldn't make out the brand, his chinos looked soft and worn and his button down shirt which had seen better days was indeed tailored of fine cloth, perhaps Italian. The receptionist handed him a room key, she glanced over at Betty, he expression deadpan. Betty felt translucent, her gig was up, her curves more exaggerated in contrast to the skinny, stone faced bitch reading her mind, she faked a smile and joined her driver as he beckoned her to. 

Betty trusted Oliver, when all logic told her not to her gut told her otherwise, yet she didn't want her driver to leave, he opened the door to a large suite, comfortable leather chairs and wood paneled walls warmed the modern space. “I'm sorry I didn't think to bring money to tip you, what's your name?” He laughs and places the room key card on a table near the door “Enjoy your stay Miss.” 

Staring down at the pillow, Betty's mind wanders off to the pile of dirty dishes she left sitting in the sink, the coffee pot she left sitting on the hot plate and the wet clothes that never made it from the washer to the drier. She rolls over and sits up, kicks off her heels, pulls her knees toward her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. “How long are you planning on keeping me Oliver?” “You came of your own free will, you are free to leave anytime Betty.” His confidence is alluring, she uncouples her fingers and slides herself down the bed, her skirt riding up to her underwear she reaches her arms behind her head and grabs the pillow on each side, she turns her head to one side burying half  her face in the pillow, with her back gently arched she thrusts her pussy into the air, beckoning him to advance toward her. She makes a little groan, breathes in deeply the buttons on her dress pull tighter still. “You must have imagined me thinner?” She laughs. “I think my image of you was fairly accurate, undo some buttons Betty if the dress feels too tight.” One by one Betty unbuttons her dress until she reaches the sash tied loosely around her waist, she concentrates hard to untie the knot without appearing flustered and then continues undoing the rest of the buttons until the dress falls completely open.

“Betty, you are a thing of beauty” “Stop it” she says smiling, her right hand tucks in between her clenched thighs and her left hand wraps around her neck, her bent arm hiding her breasts. “When will you see yourself the way I see you?” Pleading with him, “I'm so turned on Oliver, when will you come join me?” Betty can only imagine how wet she would feel if she were to slide her finger between her labium, she resists the urge in the hope that Oliver will feel for himself this time. 

“Soon, first you have to get the door.” Her tummy flips at the idea he is outside the room a few feet away, then she hears the knock and although she is sure he has been watching her through a camera from another room she is now concerned again with her appearance. “Room service” a female voice is heard from outside saying, Betty's heart sinks “There is a robe in the closet by the door Betty” “I thought it was you at the door” she says pouting her lips. “Like I said, soon.” Betty grabs the robe from the closet and opens the door to a stunning young woman, with olive skin and gleaming long dark hair wearing a traditional maid's uniform, she smiles sweetly at Betty and confidently pushes the cart over to  a small round mahogany table. She places a champagne bucket containing a bottle of Rug, two champagne flutes (he wasn't kidding about having fine taste in beverages), a box of Valrohna chocolate truffles and a plate covered with a silver domed cover. May I open the bottle for you Mademoiselle? She says in a distinct French accent, she sounds as good as she looks. “And will there be anything else?” No thank you. Betty lifts off the plate cover and reveals a purple silk blind fold and a neatly wound length of red silk ribbon, she bursts out laughing. You are the sexiest man on earth. Would you trust me if I blindfolded you?” he asks with a chuckle. “Yes Oliver I would trust you.”

Betty picks up her champagne flute, she has had fine wine and good champagne but this was her first tate of Krug,  she takes a sip and lets the bubbles gently dance on her tongue, without warning Betty is jolted back to two days earlier when she had looked on the shelves at the Stop and Shop for Blue Mountain coffee that Oliver had spoken so highly of, silly Oliver she thought he got the wrong color mountain as she reached for a bag of Green Mountain house blend coffee off the shelf sitting close to the starbucks variety she usually bought. After making a pot later that day and thinking how it wasn't that special, she considered perhaps there is a Blue Mountain coffee afterall, maybe this was even a clue as to his hometown, could be a local coffee and sitting at her computer she googled it. YIKES! $125 for a bag of coffee! Reading this Betty came close to spitting the mouthful of green mountain out at the shock of it, she could not contain her laughter, the idea that a bag of coffee could cost $125, the idea that anyone would pay that and the idea that she thought he was color blind was altogether hilarious. And now sipping champagne she didn't dare to consider the value of, she was close once again to spraying the room with it, she quickly swallowed and then allowed herself to laugh out loud. “Betty, everything ok?” “Yes it's beautiful, I don't know why I'm laughing.” “How is the champagne?” “It's really lovely, you should come and have some with me.” “I will, take it to the bed and bring the blind fold with you.”  

Would you trust me if I blindfolded you?

“Would you trust me if I blind folded you?” sitting on the edge of the bed she quickly turned around to find his voice, “Where are you?” she asked nervously. “I'm here, I'm always here, when will you realize that?” “I can't see you though.” He laughs gently, not mocking her but with affection. She feels conscious of her appearance all of a sudden and looks down to find her dress has crept up above her knees, she hates her knees, who likes knees? She pulls the fabric over them and looks around again, a single rose lays neatly placed on the bed, she picks it up and smells it but feels silly in the cheesiness of it all. “A rose, a hotel suite, I hear your voice it sounds nice, but still I don't see you, show me yourself, who are you? “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet” “What exactly does that mean?” she asks irritably “It means sweetness that, identifying myself to you doesn't change who I am, you look with your soul and you see me.” “Can you see me?”she asks, her voice is firmer now she is indignant. “I have always seen you sweet Betty.” She sighs and throws herself back on the bed surrendering to him, no matter what he asked of her she felt sure she would do as she always had, her arms out stretched now in a V behind her head, the top two buttons on the dress he had sent her for the occasion, (a size too small) were bursting open, she could feel him staring at her breasts and it made them tingle. She rolls herself onto her tummy, the skirt is twisted around her ample buttocks and her thighs are exposed, she wants him to see up her skirt, she wants him to spread her legs for her and touch the smooth inside of her thighs, a smile appears upon her face she looks over her shoulder flirting with the ghostly presence as she opens her legs to him, her knees bent, the four inch spiked heals wafting above her like like reeds gently blowing in a breeze. 

“Would you trust me if I blindfolded you?” He asks emphatically.  “Would you touch me and kiss my neck softly?” “Betty, sweet Betty, will you ever listen to me?” “I listen, what do you mean?” her voice is playful, she knows she hasn't answered the question, despite the fact she has guessed herself at least ten years his senior, she can not help but feel like a little girl in his company. “Betty, would you trust me if I blindfolded you?” Surely by now he must realize she trusts him; three hours earlier an old Mercedes with mismatched tires and faded robin's egg blue paint and dubious looking driver, had arrived in a billow of dust in her driveway. Betty opened the door wearing a sun dress and flip flops, her hair disheveled, her face dirty from wiping her brow in the days heat while attending to the flower beds, the weathered and scrawny looking driver in his mid to late forties was leaning on the passenger door, squinting toward her. “Can I help you?” she asked feeling like Laura Dern in an old David Lynch movie. The man puts his cigarette in his mouth and leans into the open window, he retrieves a brown paper bag and holds it out toward her. She attempts to soften his rough edge with a flirty smile and the sweetness in her voice as she advances toward him taking hold of the bag “for me?” Inside the bag is a postcard, with a black and white image of lightning bolting across The Eiffel tower, on the back in neatly written cursive the words “Please change into this garment and be ready in one hour, the driver will wait for you.” Betty pulls out a royal blue, silk charmeuse shirt dress. Well he obviously has good taste she thinks. 

An hour later Betty is sitting on the cracked leather front passenger seat, in defiance of the fact her surly driver had held open the back door. Now wearing her new silk dress, a pair of heals she had managed to find buried under some old blankets at the bottom of her closet, a bra she reserved for special occasions such as this, which still had the price tags attached and the matching boy shorts that caused a wedgie altogether uncomfortable but entirely perfect for her round ass. She had run out of time to finish drying her hair, she pulled down the visor and applied some deep red lipstick slowly, smacking her lips together and running her tongue over her teeth, she looks at her driver, her head tilted and asks “how am I?” He laughs and coughs revealing a gold tooth, his eyes were once pretty she thought. “You'll do” he says. Do you mind me asking where are you taking me? “The city.” She understands this is as much chit chat as her companion can handle and leaves him to do the driving while she leans back into the seat and tries to imagine what her mystery man will be like.

TO BE CONTINUED...

You're making me dizzy

Powerless and dishevelled 

Tussled like a toy mouse 

Tossed this way and that

Until the meaning of up is down 

The idea of sense itself is senseless 

A conductor conducting a syphony played by a one man band

A single actor reading all the lines to an audience of one

A stage diver with an audience of none 

Such foolery unfolds in front of thee

I ridicule myself at such mockery 

This ground is not level

The hill too steep to stop

Like a yoyo my thoughts unravel 

With such small movement you bring me back

The encore unfurls yet more 

This ride makes me dizzy, let me off

A Metaphysical Embrace

Does it matter I can not see your face

Should I care about this gap in space 

Ours is a metaphysical embrace

Smoke and mirrors one could say

I can hear my friends say walk away

But it was you who made my day