0 comments/ 8737 views/ 0 favorites Thoughts By: BluesMistress My head is weighing heavily on my neck, I can barely keep my eyes open. Vivid dreams invaded my sleep - waking me a few times last night. I was never frightened, but concerned about the content. He was in my dreams again, taking advantage of me. No words were spoken, but the look in his eyes as he explored me continues to haunt my memory. It's roots are imbedded in my need to please, it's a must for happiness. If he's satisfied and appreciative, then I'm more than fulfilled. I'm not like this with anyone else - only him. My alter ego takes over when in his presence, and I have no control. I continue to be distracted as I move about, putting my house in order, listening to the irregular rain pelting my skylight. ". . . You spoil me with your voice, so soft, like velvet . . . " I've been told that I appear cold and aloof to strangers. I am who and what I am, but I truly try not to project an image of one who's remote. My bearing is confident, when moving about - I do so with a strong determined stride. Airing my beliefs, defending causes, is done without reserve. My sense of humor is quick and sometimes biting. But, my sensuality is conspicuous. Men watch as I walk by and some will comment - unwelcome remarks. I don't have a notable beauty that draws their attention, but rather a carnal confidence that I apparently radiate, serving as a beacon. However, the minute he's near, I'm quiet and reserved, following his lead. The beacon ceases to shine. Men don't stare when he walks beside me, obviously no comments are forthcoming. I'm in his possession and they know this. " . . . How do you like it? What makes you moan, baby?" Tears blur my eyes when we kiss, my desire's so unbearable. His spontaneous sweet sentiments take me by surprise each-and-every time. I can't remember when I've been treated so well. It's a struggle to reign in the fantasies that shadow my day. His inspiration is taking hold of me. At any moment an image is raised: looking down at me - wrapping me in his arms - resting my head on his shoulder with my lips barely touching his neck. His cheek lays upon the top of my head. His arms claim me as we collapse into a blending of bodies. I'm lost in forever. Coming up behind me, trapping my arms against my body - he pulls me firmly into him. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I never heard him enter. Soft warm kisses dance upon the back of my neck and sends shimmering rushes through me. A chill runs up my arms as desire heats my belly. Passionate pressure builds in my chest, warm breath tickles my shoulder. I'm captivated with sweet words murmured into my ear. I'll soon burst without release. " . . . Please, please, please . . . " Turning to reach for his face, taking it in my hands, I lean in to touch my lips to his. Tracing the tip of my tongue along the tender inner line of his lips. I take my leisure to experience every sensation, drawing in his scent which is beguiling. Feeling his spirit within my grasp, against the length of my body. A soft bite of his lip, I brush my softly parted mouth along the curve of his jaw, pausing just below his ear . . . the most sensitive place - where the pulse beats steady. He sends me to the bedroom where the dimness welcomes me. Glimmering candle-lite casts a soft glow about the room - when he enters the flame sparkles in his eyes. I'm instructed to lay on the bed. Soft sensual music completes the scene. " . . . Lie on your back and put your hands over your head . . . " Binding my hands with a scarf, making sure it's tight so that I can barely move my wrists. Tracing fingertips down my arms to my shoulder, stopping too near my breasts. I ache to be touched, but he pauses to cast sweet torture over me. Circling my nipples, they harden in response to the tender touch . . . just the finger tip teases, trails, I can barely feel his touch and yet the fire it stirs is a heat that burns with the purest passion. It's hypnotizing. I realize he's pulling away, open my eyes and I watch him walk out of the room. " . . . Don't move, not an inch. You know what will happen . . . " Staring at the door, begging him to return, willing him to return - when he enters again with another scarf. A tingle of fear courses my belly - deep. Sensing my anxiety he takes his time, approaches the bed and seizes my ankles in his hands, wrapping the scarf around each in turn, then tightening it. I lie very still, focusing on his shadow cast by candle-lite. ". . . On the floor, on your knees, sweetheart . . . " Sitting up, I slip my legs over the side of the bed and stand with weakness. I drop to my knees and as I kneel before him I kiss his inner thighs before his hand grasps my chin, lifting my face toward his. " . . . Not until I tell you . . . " I stay still, watching and wanting. Standing before me, his desire is facing me ... so close . . . I cannot touch. Running his fingers through my hair, whispering instruction . . . to be still, to hold my place. Leaning closer to me, he touches the tip of his head to my lips. Still I cannot take him in, sneaking my tongue out to taste. The drip that waits spreads across the tip of my tongue. Holding so still he allows me to taste just a little. His hands grab my hair, pulling my head back and caressing the tip of his head across my lips, but refusing my desire to taste all of him. The skin so warm, firm and yet soft. He twitches against my lips. Stepping back, he leans down to lift me to my feet. Pulling me close, I feel him push against my bound hands. I hold him, stroking slowly. He caresses the back of my thighs, fingers gripping, moving up to the small of my back. Holding me hard to his body. Grabbing both breasts and kneading gently, watching my eyes, commanding me to keep mine on his own. Grabbing my waist, he turns me toward the bed and bends me over, my bound hands rest on the soft comforter. His fingers explore the swells of my hips, between - a finger quickly drives into me and out again, then moves lower between my thighs. Softly petting, a finger searching and discovering the tender nub. Light - soft - quick - the strokes shimmer across the soft little mound. Lifting and turning me, I stand before him as he sits on the edge of the bed. He releases my hands and unbinds my ankles. I'm in his embrace. The weight of his head, as it rests against my stomach, sends quivers through me, idly massaging his neck. I kneel between his legs, favoring him with lite kisses and nibbles, making my way down his face . . . neck . . . chest . . . tugging his t-shirt over his head. Lowering myself to trail lips to nipples, responding at once to my kisses. My nails softly play across his back - to his waist. My hands reach for his legs, fingers spread and moving up his thighs. His fingers reach into my hair, cradling my head. Thumbs under my chin, lift my face towards his and our passionate kisses return. I seek him, wanting to take hold and please with slow steady strokes. Bending to my face in his hands, he looks into my eyes, "What is it about you that creates this fire?" "I never say 'No'," I answer. He closes his eyes . . . opens his mind - to me and all the possibilities we possess. His firmness increases and I know he is close...I slow as he rises from the bed, grasping my arms he lays me across the downy soft comforter on my stomach. Grasping my wrists he again binds them, but behind my back this time. His hands take my ankles and spread them wide. The mattress dips as he kneels between my legs. Lowering himself over me, nipping my shoulders lightly, slipping into me, parting my warm, moist lips. Slowly pushing to his full length and pausing. Holding still - knowing I will try to rock to bring him to a burst of fire inside me. "Stay still, I'll make love to you...you will take it..." A purring moan rises in my throat, it takes all I have not to move. After interminable ticks of time his violent energy erupts and he takes me hard. I cum so fast I can't believe it happened...but it keeps going, never-ending rocking of electric passion. His release follows as hard and he falls onto me, pinning me to the bed. Laying so still, I can only feel his rasping breath down my neck, the beating of his heart against my back. My clenched fists pull against my restraints until the slow ebbing releases me into euphoric repose. My wrists are unbound when he lifts off of me, falling along side of me, pulling me against his chest. Sleep claims us, so deep and peaceful. We are pure together, I've never wanted for more. Thoughts And Alcohol I've lost her, I know. It was such a stupid argument. And then I told her to go, to leave me alone, that I would be better off without her. How senseless was that? She went, crying her eyes out, and I let her, I waved her goodbye. I cannot believe I did that. As she slammed the door, I picked up a bottle, and drank. Actually, what I did was drink some more. I must have been drunk to have argued with her in the first place. I knew she was right, but stubbornness made me argue. Stubbornness and alcohol. I took another swig from the bottle, my mind wandering through our relationship. ---- Kim was a friend of my sister when I first met her, about four years younger than me. It wasn't love at first sight or anything like that; she was just there, hanging around. I hardly noticed her for quite some time, until she blossomed. And how she blossomed! From a skinny, gawky teen to a real beauty in a little more than a year. She became a gorgeous young woman. Kim came with us on a couple of family trips. They were just trips out for the day, the more the merrier sort of thing. It was that first one to the seaside when she caught my eye. I think I was playing beach cricket when I saw her in her bikini, paddling. My concentration went to pieces and I cried off from the game. I went to sit amongst the rock pools and watched Kim from a distance as she swam in the sea for a while. Then she emerged from the waves like some modern Aphrodite. That was the moment I knew, I knew she was the one. However, being me, I didn't say anything to Kim and she didn't appear to have noticed the extra attention I was paying her. I agonized about what to do. I felt attracted to her but wasn't sure that it hadn't just been that moment. Eventually I asked her out. Just to the cinema, some rom-com or other. It went well enough, well enough for me to ask her out again now and then, a movie again or a meal maybe. If she was at a loose end she'd agree. We were never really a couple then, just, well, backup dates, if neither of us was otherwise engaged. This not very serious state of affairs went on for a few months until I went away to college. ---- I took another swig from the bottle. College was where I had learnt to drink, drink and party. Back then I could handle it easier, youth and a prodigious metabolism meant that I never lost control, never letting my temper rise. Now it seemed that those days were gone, along with Kim. More and more I found my temper rising, and every time it was harder to control, to calm myself down. ---- I came back from college and found that Kim had got herself a job in a shop rather than going further with her education. She was good at it too, already assistant manager. On the other hand I was drifting, unsure about what I wanted to do now. I got in touch with Kim and asked her out again, totally forgetting that she may have a boyfriend. She agreed and we went to one our old haunts, the cinema, and then for a meal. As we ate we talked, catching up a little. She asked if I could afford this, as at the moment I was just back from college. Looking back, she was only asking as a concerned friend, but I didn't take it that way. I stormed off after paying for the meal, leaving Kim stunned. Our first row. As I left I felt the anger leave me, and felt ashamed, realising that she was only showing that she was grown up too. I called her early next morning, before she went to work, almost too early. Kim was calm and accepted my apology and hoped that I understood that she was only trying to help. I told her I did and that I was really sorry for taking her help the wrong way, and could we still be friends? A smile broke on my face when she said 'of course'. I took several temporary jobs that summer, all boring and menial, and then found something that I enjoyed. Driving a lorry around the county, making deliveries. Probably a waste of my education, but it was something I liked doing. On my own for most of the time, no set schedule as long as everything was delivered. It suited me down to the ground. One of my regular drops just happened to be to Kim's shop, once or twice a week. I looked forward to these, trying to make them the last drop of the day so that I knew how much time I could spend talking to Kim. After my earlier embarrassing moment I steered clear of asking her out for quite some time, until Kim asked me out. I accepted, eager to make up for my earlier mistake. When I asked if she was serious with anyone, she said that none of her dates had ever led to anything serious, and I her only constant admirer. I said I didn't believe her, surely a girl as pretty as she was could find a serious boyfriend? Her reply was that she tended to focus on her career and that seemed to put most guys off, except me. I just said that I'd known her longer than most, and she'd have to do better than that to get rid of me. We started to go out occasionally, still not serious. This went on for more than a year. We asked nothing of one another other than companionship. Movies and meals, the odd day trip here and there. Then at the New Year party Kim dropped her bombshell. She was being transferred, to become Manager at one of the smaller branches, but it was out of my delivery area. I was happy for her, she deserved the recognition, but sad that I would rarely get to see her anymore. She seemed to sense my conflict, but said nothing. All I could do was offer my congratulations. I drank too much at the party, drowning my sorrows. Kim saw me home. On the doorstep I asked when she was going. "Soon" she told me. How soon came as a shock however. My next delivery to her shop a couple of days later found me talking to the new assistant manager, Kim was already gone. ---- I looked at the bottle and put it down, staring around the room instead. Here and there were little touches of Kim. A picture she'd bought, a framed photo of the two of us on a beach, some CD's and DVD's of hers. I picked up the bottle again. ---- This parting had been the worst. I had got used to Kim being in my life, even if it was only on the edge. Except she wasn't on the edge. As the weeks passed I realised that she had become the centre of my life. Any day that I saw her or talked to her was a good day; a day with no contact was a bad day. Now she was a hundred miles away, I could call her, but there were no more 'whim' dates. No "Are you free tonight?" calls. I couldn't handle it and began to phone her less and less. Part of this was because of my promotion to manager of the dispatch department. I had less time to talk, more to worry about. I suspect that Kim had a lot on her plate too; I gathered from other friends in her old shop that the branch she had taken over was not one of the more successful ones in the chain, but that Kim was beginning to turn it round. We had barely talked for almost six months when I met her in a bar in town. I didn't know it was her at first. I just saw a woman being hassled by some drunk at the bar. I walked up behind him and grabbed his arm, forcing it up his back, pushing him across the bar. "Bud, the lady doesn't appreciate your attention. If you don't apologise I'll keeping pushing on this arm till it comes off and then I'll stuff it down your throat." He squealed in pain as I increased the pressure to make the point. "Okay, okay I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll go." He turned around as I let go. "What's it to you anyway?" Now I had recognised Kim. Her hair style had changed, but as soon as I saw her face and her blue eyes I knew it was her. "As it happens, the lady is a good friend of mine, and if I'd known it was her I'd have pushed harder." He scuttled away. I smiled. "Hello Kim, what are you doing back in town?" "I've had a job offer. Manager of the big new superstore that's opening." "I'm impressed, but not surprised. Where are you staying?" "Hotel for the moment." "Sounds dull. Busy tonight?" "You offering to take me out?" "I know a new restaurant if you're interested." "Then I'm yours for the night." She laughed. That evening we caught up with each others news once again, something we always seemed to be doing. I spent a lot of the time just looking at Kim, wondering how I never seemed to be able to hold onto her, how no-one could hold onto her. For a change it was Kim who had a little too much to drink and I had to help her back to her hotel room. She paused on the threshold and seemed to be waiting for something. Her sparkling blue eyes seemed to be willing me to speak. "Kim, have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" I spoke from the heart, not caring what she thought, she'd probably not remember anyway. She smiled and pecked me on the cheek. "Not really, but I thank you. I had gathered how you felt." "And I know I've never told you I love you." She looked stunned for a moment. "The feeling is mutual you know." She pulled me towards her; our lips meeting in a kiss that had been a long time coming. I broke off the contact. "I'll call you tomorrow." ---- Thus began the final stage of our relationship. We went out together at least once a week, sometimes Kim came back to my place, and sometimes she didn't. She was so busy preparing to open the store that it took her over a month to find a flat. After she did we occasionally went back there, but mine was usually the preferred venue for a nightcap. Gradually Kim left her presence in my flat, just little things. Some of her DVD's after a night watching them, the odd CD she'd lent me, bits and pieces of jewellery she left behind, the odd piece of clothing. Her flat collected some of my things too, mostly laundry, only much tidier. And then things began to slip. ---- The store opening was a huge success, but that had never been in doubt with Kim behind it. My firm however was struggling a little, I had to lay off some of the drivers, something I didn't like doing, and it was making me tetchy and on more than one occasion I was very short with Kim as she talked about how well things were going for her. When she found out why (I hadn't told her) she apologised to me, but I told her it was my fault for not saying anything. Sometimes I had to go out and drive, which I didn't mind, but more than once that meant cancelling a date with Kim, which pleased neither of us. The store was running itself now thanks to Kim's organisation, which meant that she had more free time. In my case I was having to work harder and more often, meaning that our time together was often short, sometimes no more than a quick hello. It was beginning to affect me, I was getting short tempered again and I was drinking more often alone. It came to a head this afternoon. ---- It was the weekend. Kim had gone into work in the morning for some minor housekeeping, leaving me on my own. By the time she returned I was most of the way to being drunk. Kim was disappointed in me when she came in and said so. This was where I took exception and the row started, culminating in me telling her to leave. ---- Again I looked at the bottle in my hand. By now it was half empty, or was it half full? As I stared at it I was suddenly disgusted with myself, and with this bottle. Combined with my temper and stubbornness they had driven away the best thing in my life, the only thing I cared about. I stood a little unsteadily and walked to the door, the door Kim had slammed behind her on her way out of my life. Outside were the bins. I walked over to them. I unscrewed the bottle and poured out the contents, and then flung the empty into the recycling bin, smashing the glass satisfyingly. I turned around and Kim was there, leaning against the wall. "Dramatic." She said. "Any reason?" Her face was still tear-stained, but she looked at me steadily, her blue eyes challenging me once more. "My temper and alcohol don't make a good mix." I said. "No alcohol, no temper, simple." She continued to stare me down, her eyes drawing words out of me that I'd always wanted to say, but never had. "We're supposed to grow old with someone, not because of them." Still she stared. Uncomfortably I continued to speak; I needed a reaction from her. "I've realised that I can do without almost anything, except one precious thing." "Only one?" Her eyes dropped from the survey of my face. "Yes. You." I stepped up to her and lifted her chin with my finger. "Me?" Her eyes shone with tears again. "Don't tease me Kim. I can't take back what I've said; all I can ask is that you forgive me and come back." She smiled and hugged me. "Fool. I never went away. I just hoped that you'd realise that you wanted me as much as I wanted to be with you" She kissed me gently and led me back indoors. "But the drinking will have to go." "Just as long as there's something to replace it." I joked, kissing her again. "I'm sure we'll think of something." Thoughts and Alcohol: Kim's version I wasn't sure about this, but as I wrote it, it began to make sense. I do not condone heavy drinking, but I have done it. ********* I couldn't believe it. I'd only been gone a couple of hours and he was part-way drunk. I'd not seen Dave like this for a long time. I was disappointed and I told him so. That upset him and we argued, culminating in him telling me if I was that offended I should go. I slammed the door behind me excessively hard as I stormed out. Once in the cooler air outside I stopped. I leant against the wall and began to cry. I thought back over our long relationship. --- Dave was the older brother, by just over three years, of my best friend at school. He was a shy, tongue-tied boy who was reasonably good-looking. At first he barely seemed to notice me, I was just some friend of his sister. I think he started to look at me differently after I began to develop. I believe the first time I really caught his eye was when I was invited on a family day out by his sister. I was feeling a little self-conscious now I had gained a bosom and hadn't helped myself by wearing my new bikini which seemed a little skimpy now I had it on outside. I decided to hide myself by swimming in the sea. Finally getting up the courage to go back up the beach I waded through the surf. I saw Dave staring at me from the rock pools and then looking away. That was the first time I had felt that boys might actually find me attractive. I half expected Dave to say something to me but he didn't. In fact he hardly spoke to me at all for a while, although he always seemed to be around when I called to see his sister, until finally he asked me to the cinema. I think he was worried about dating a schoolgirl when he was about to go to college. That summer flew by and then Dave went off to college. We had been out a few times, but I don't think either of us took it seriously, we were just someone to go out with. While Dave was at college I lost touch with him, not even seeing him during the holidays. I left school early when I was offered a full-time job at the shop where I worked part-time at weekends. It seemed I had a natural aptitude for shop work that they liked. In fact they liked it that much I was made assistant manager of our branch within a year, a position I held when Dave called me out of the blue. He was just back home after finishing college and wanted to know if I was up for a movie and a meal. It briefly crossed my mind to wonder how he knew I didn't have a regular boyfriend still before I agreed. After the cinema we went to a nice little restaurant and filled each other in on the past couple of years. Things were fine until the bill came and I asked him if he could afford this, just being back from college and without a job. I was only offering to pay my half, but Dave reacted badly. He threw the money onto the table and stormed out. I was surprised to say the least but as I made my own way home I realised that I possibly could have made my offer in a better way and not hurt his male pride. Maybe I should have said we'd go halves before we started. Dave phoned early the next morning, before I was out of bed let alone before I was ready to go to work, and apologised profusely; saying as soon as he'd left he had realised that I was only trying to help out as a concerned friend and could we still be friends. I could practically hear his smile when I said of course we could. Even after that I still didn't see him for a couple of weeks. I found out later that he'd taken a few jobs, now of which he stuck at for more than a day. And then he turned up at the back door of the shop where I worked, making a delivery in a van. We chatted for a while until he had to go and make another delivery. I was so pleased when he turned up again a day or so afterwards, at a later time. He told me this was his last drop for the day, so we could talk as long as we wanted. It seemed he really liked this job and he was going to be our regular delivery driver from now on. This meant we got to see each other three or four times a week. For a couple of weeks I waited for him to ask me out again but he didn't. It occurred to me that the embarrassment of our last outing was holding him back, so I asked him out to get us over this hump. He accepted with alacrity. After that whenever we were both at a loose end we'd go out together. Even if we didn't make a date we would call one another and talk. On one of our outings he asked me why I never seemed to have a boyfriend. I told him that I tended to put my career first and it scared them off after a couple of dates. I asked him why it didn't bother him. He laughed and said it would take more than that to put him off, he'd known me too long. This state of affairs went on for well over a year, neither of us thinking of the other as anything but a friend. And then I was promoted to the manager of a problem store in our chain just before Dave's second Christmas as a delivery driver. For some reason until we were at a New Year party a couple of days before I left. I have never been able to understand why I left it so late before I told him. When I did I could tell he was pleased for me, but that pleasure was tinged with sadness. He knew straightaway that we would find it difficult to continue our 'almost' relationship. That night he drowned his sorrows and I had to see him home. It was the first time I had seen him drunk. We did try to keep in touch. Dave would phone most days and try and get over to see me for the first month or so but it rarely worked out; I was nearly always busy at the shop. After he was promoted himself, to dispatcher, we both found that we both had even less free time so the visits and then the phone calls tailed off until they stopped. When I did have any spare time I found myself wondering what Dave was up to. It was silly, but even the sound of his voice just talking banalities had been enough to make me feel good for the rest of the day and I missed that, but it was gone now and neither of us could do anything about it except shrug and carry on. I managed to get my problematical branch sorted out and it slowly became profitable again. This must have caught someone's eye as I found myself head-hunted to become the manager of a new superstore back in my own town. This happened several months after Dave and I had lost contact. The store was partly finished when I arrived to take over. As I hadn't had much time to find a place to stay the new chain put me up in a hotel. I was happy to be here, but I didn't relish the thought of spending my first night back in a hotel room, so I decided to treat myself to a drink. I tried to phone Dave but got the disconnected signal and figured he'd moved on. I went to a little bar we had sometimes gone to and ordered a drink. I'd barely begun to sip it when some guy came up and tried to hit on me. I told him I wasn't interested and turned my back on him to emphasise the point but he kept pulling at my arm. I was on the point of leaving when my unwanted companion was pushed against the bar and I voice I knew so well told him to push off or he'd get hurt. It was Dave. The other guy quickly scurried off and after exchanging pleasantries Dave asked if I was up for a meal. I smiled and said of course. As we ate, we once more caught up with each others news, something we had seemed to do a lot and I wondered why. The rest of the evening was a blur as I got a little drunk, partly on the wine we were drinking, but mainly on Dave. Just being with him again was so akin to intoxication. I hadn't realised how much I missed him. He seemed to spend a lot of the time just looking at me and I didn't mind at all. He saw me back to my hotel room and as we stood looking at each other in the doorway I couldn't help but stare at him, willing him to say something.. He asked me if he'd ever told me I was beautiful. I blushed and smiled and kissed him on the cheek, telling him no, but I had sort of gathered how he felt. And then the world changed: He told me that he loved me. I was momentarily stunned. In that moment I knew that I loved him too, that I probably always had, so I smiled again and kissed him, a kiss that had been waiting to happen for a long time. From then on, for the first time, we saw ourselves as a couple, and for a while things were better than ever, but Dave was not quite as I remembered him. After our last parting he had sought to replace me and had done so with alcohol. He drank a little more than I was comfortable with and was a lot grumpier with it. I finally managed to pry out of him that the company he was working for was having a rough time, but I was having trouble making him see that he had a drink problem. I knew I was going to have to shock him to get him to realise. --- I leant back against the wall beside Dave's front door, all cried out now. That was what I'd been trying to do this morning; shock Dave into seeing what was happening. Instead it seemed I'd made things worse and turned him against me. But I still felt I couldn't give up on him. Suddenly Dave's front door was jerked open and he strode out purposefully towards where the bins were. I watched as, swaying a little, he unscrewed the bottle he was carrying and poured out its contents. Then, with a satisfied grunt, he hurled the empty bottle into the bin. Maybe the shock tactics had worked after all, albeit not in the way I'd intended. I crossed my arms and, still leaning against the wall, spoke. "Dramatic. Any reason?" He span around, nearly losing his balance, and saw me. I concentrated on his face, staring into his eyes. "My temper and alcohol don't make a good mix." He said. "No alcohol, no temper, simple." I continued to stare him down, trying to draw words out of him that I suspected he'd always wanted to say, but never had. "We're supposed to grow old with someone, not because of them." Still I stared. "I've realised that I can do without almost anything, except one precious thing." "Only one?" My eyes dropped from the survey of his face. "Yes. You." He stepped over to me and lifted my chin with his finger. "Me?" I questioned, tears forming in my eyes again as I knew he meant it. "Don't tease me Kim. I can't take back what I've said; all I can ask is that you forgive me and come back." I smiled and hugged him. "Fool. I never went away. I just hoped that you'd realise that you wanted me more than a drink and that I wanted to be with you" I kissed him gently and led him back indoors. "But the drinking will have to go." I warned "I promise. Just as long as there's something to replace it." He joked, kissing me again. "I'm sure we'll think of something." I grinned, hugging him. Epilogue Dave swore to me that day that he'd never drink again and he hasn't, even when the company he worked for went bust and he lost his job. I was proud of him that day, when he said that one drink was too many. He replaced alcohol with being with me, and coffee. After he had spent a couple of months unemployed there was a vacancy running the warehouse at my store that I knew Dave could do, so I got him an interview. I asked the chain's personnel department to conduct the interviews, telling them of my involvement. To my delight and Dave's apparent surprise he got the job. To celebrate he took me out to dinner this evening. We look across the candlelit table at each other and his hand reaches across to hold mine. "Kim." He says. "I've been dry now for thirty months now thanks to you." "That's your doing, not mine Dave." I reply. "No Kim, it's you. You gave me the strength and the reason. You stopped me before it got bad and now I want to ask you another favour." He looks so serious I want to laugh but don't. "Ask." "Kim, not only did you probably save my life, you are my life. Without you I'd be nothing, have nothing." "Dave...?" I say, blushing, wondering where he was going with this. He slips from his chair and goes down on one knee, a ring suddenly in his hand. "Kim, will you marry me?" I'm so surprised that I can't speak. Dave takes this for indecision. "You don't want me. I'm damaged goods; I'm still too high maintenance." He starts to look away. I grab the hand still holding out the ring and grin. "No Dave, I just never thought you'd get up the nerve to ask me. I thought I was going to have to wait for leap year," "You can do better than me." Now he sounds like normal. "No-one has stuck with me like you." I say, looking into his confused eyes. "I think I need you as much as you need me." "So will you?" "Marry you? Yes." I say and kiss him. ************** I hope this makes sense, that despite everything he does love her, that he wouldn't harm her and that he is sincere in his desire to stop and that it is her love that keeps him on the straight and narrow path of sobriety. Thoughts at Night Is it wrong when I lie beside my sleeping wife, my thoughts filled with images of lust of another woman? My hand creeps down across my body and slips under the waistband of my boxers. My mind has now dressed her in a school girl costume to feed my fantasies, sending that first twitch into my cock. It lays dormant against my palm as I imagine her long dark hair in a pony tail, a crisp white shirt tucked into a checked red and black short skirt, her hips thrust to one side emphasising the length of her slender legs. White bobby socks and black patent leather demure school shoes adorn her feet. My mind completes the fantasy picture with a lollipop between her pursed and red lips. It is clichéd, I know, but is it wrong? Is it more wrong when that woman is married to another? I lie in the darkness, the sleeping form of my wife barely discernible in the bed beside me, though there is enough light creeping around the blinds that my eyes, adjusted now to the darkness, can make out the curve of her breast under the thin satin top that she is wearing. It moves gently and steadily with the slow rhythm of her breathing. My fantasy changes, the school girl is too clichéd perhaps, too carnal for my tastes. Instead she wears cut off jeans shorts that cling to her curved cheeks, her midriff, flat and tanned exposed below the yellow tank top that clearly defines her slender waist, small breasts and exposes the smooth skin of her arms and shoulders. My mind keeps the pony tail, not as a symbol of school girl innocence, but as the embodiment of her practical nature. The heat of the tropics makes life more pleasant when her long hair does not cascade forward across her face each time she moves. Her feet are bare now, another reality of the tropics, her legs tanned and smooth. She is dressed so simply yet is desirable to me, as always, perhaps more so than as the school girl fantasy. Does the realism make my thoughts any worse than before? My cock is erect now, pushing against my palm and I slowly massage it, not wanting to build up too quickly. My wife stirs slightly, rolling towards me but settling on her back. I am tempted to reach out and cup her breasts and roll the pointed nipples that protrude through the material. But I would wake her and then my fantasy would have to stop. There would be no spontaneous offer of sex, not at midnight when awoken rudely from sleep. So I close my eyes and return to my fantasy of the other. Of those times I have seen her arrive home from her work, dirty and sweaty, eager to shower. Her emergence from the bathroom, hair washed and dried and framing her face as she brushes it through. Wearing only a long, oversized tee shirt that invited my mind to picture her slender nakedness underneath. Her brown eyes, almond shaped that turned down just so slightly at the corners sparkling as she greets me with a kiss to my cheek, my nostrils filled with her clean, freshly showered scent. Her husband bringing in cold drinks. Do you now think that my fantasy is wrong, knowing that her husband is one of my best friends? My thoughts turn to the time when we all went out for dinner and she had surrendered to the recommendations of my wife to purchase a little red dress. Short sleeves and an even shorter hem, black stockings, red stilettos, her hair loose and tumbling around her shoulders and towards her waist. Her husband holding her hand and grinning like the cat that has found the cream. My wife pleased at her friend accepting her dress advice, but glancing sideways at me to see my reaction, knowing that we were in the company of a goddess. If she glanced at me now, in the darkness, she would have seen the full truth of my reaction, my cock stiff in my hand as I pumped it with increasing vigour. I fight to lie still, to ensure that I do not wake her now as my climax begins to build. Is this wrong, lying here thinking these thoughts like this? Is it made more wrong if I tell you that I lived under their roof for three months? That these thoughts started in earnest then, when I was in her company daily and that for half that time her husband was away with work? Each day I would see her post-work ritual. Each day we would chat, and with each passing day we would chat about more intimate things. And after a week of just the two of us, each night I would retire with my cock springing to life before I was naked in the bed, on my own while my own wife was interstate with her new job, setting up house and waiting for me. How wrong is it now? I would arouse myself in my room thinking my thoughts, thoughts of her naked body in the shower, of her naked body in her sheets, of her naked body under mine. I imagined her long legs wrapped around my waist as I slid into her, my thoughts being sucked into the liquid pools of her dark eyes as our bodies slapped together in the warm tropical night. Sometimes I would leave my room, naked and erect and walk the short distance to the bathroom to relieve my bladder. I hoped that she would emerge from her room, to find me like that and that somehow she would make the first move, freeing me of my guilt. And when he returned, after eight weeks, I heard her as I walked to the bathroom. I was not naked, not now with him there. "Yes, yes, yes," I could hear her gasping. It was obvious of course, their first night together after so long. He was fucking her as I wanted to fuck her and I was both envious and delighted. I could hear her voice in the throes of passion and it would feed my fantasies for a long time. I stood with my back against the wall near the bathroom, my cock in my hand listening to her passion and in no time I came, squeezing the head of my cock to catch my cum in my hand. And I come now, my brain filled with the thought of her naked on her bed, but with me on top of her, wrapped in her legs, her arms pulling my head to her shoulder and her words in my ears, "yes, yes, yes." My cum leaps from my cock and lands on my abdomen, in my pubic hair, coats my fingers. My wife continues to sleep... Is it wrong? Thoughts Behind the Dance Author's Note: I wrote this about fourteen years for my writing class in college and thought to put it on the site for giggles. It is about a man's interaction with a stripper and the thoughts of both. Thoughts behind the Dance By James Shelby (formally K-Dogg) ***** The Customer I walked into the place at 2 PM and took a seat towards the entrance. This was my first time here, and I was excited. The place was different than what is seen of places like this in movies and music videos. The place had dark reddish glow to it. It was more than a bar but less than a restaurant. On the left side of the place, it had tables, each with two black chairs on the left and right side of it. Behind the tables was a couch seat that extended from the bathroom door to far end of the place. On top of the seat, there were mirrors to remind everyone of where they were. The walls were black and mysterious, as though hiding a secret from the outside world. The middle of the place had a stage with white lights to encircle it, making it the center of attention. On stage, the dancer of the hour danced sensuously with the pole at her side. She had green-colored thong panties. Her uncovered breasts swayed with the rhythm of the music. She was trying to attract any man with a lot of cash and a lustful glare in his eye. On the right side, the bar was packed with guys who were trying to get their drink on. "Would you like some company," asked a young woman. "Sure," I said. The woman in the red jumpsuit sat down next to me. "My name is Mercedes," said the beautiful woman with a smile. I told her my name automatically. 'Man, she is beautiful.' I thought. I looked at her as if she was a work of art. She had caramel looking skin with brown eyes looking at me wonder and amazement. It had the look of silk. The odd thing was the diamonds in the middle of her forehead. They made her shine out even in the darkness of the place. Her name matched her look. A luxury that many can obtain, but only few can maintain. The Stripper I just got out from the dressing room with my red jumpsuit. I listened to the music on the radio played by the club's DJ. I looked around the place to scoop out the guys there. There were the regulars that come in at their lunchtime to have a 'special treat' with their meal. The irony is that with the same amount they spend here they could a woman or a nice present for their wife or girlfriend. Yeah right, whom am I kidding? These freaks, losers, pigs, and wanna-be players couldn't get any women, much less a fine sexy thing like me. Besides, why should a wife or girlfriend get all a guy's money? I work hard for that money. I get all pretty, diet, exercise, stand in high heels killing my feet, get half naked and shake my ass for him. I deserve my share of his money. College isn't going to pay for itself, and I'll be damned if I going to pay a student loan for the rest of my life. Anyway, I looked around the place and spot a guy in the table near the entrance. I've never seen him before in here. He had on red and orange stripe buttoned down shirt with some brown pants. He didn't look like he was made of money but looks can be deceiving so I decided to make a new 'friend'. "Would you like some company," I asked. "Sure," he replied, trying to act cool. He was nervous as hell, I could tell. We exchanged our names, well his real name and my stage name and the conversation went from there. The Nervous Customer I was nervous as hell. A goddess next to me, and I had no clue what to say. She left me speechless. Shit, this always happens to me with a beautiful girl at my side. I sound like a goof and look like an idiot. This is exactly why I have no girlfriend right now and in this place. She asked me if I go to school. "Yeah," I replied. I told her that I went to Houston Baptist University. Shoot, I didn't want to tell her that. Not that I'm ashamed of my school mind you, but I feared what her reaction might be. I mean a guy going to a Baptist school coming to a place like this must be weird. Great, now she must think that I'm a goof, an idiot, and a weirdo to boot. The Tired Stripper I don't think he wanted to tell me he was from that school. I could see his reaction on his face. I wanted to tell him that I get customers that are doctors, judges, senators, etc. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the Pope came in here himself. I told him that I went to college myself and that seemed to relax him a lot. I told him about my major in business, and my plans with them. I'm going to start my own business so I could be lifted from these drunks and retards to nicer surroundings. Boy, I'm tired. I'm yawning. Anybody would if you had to work to 2 a.m., get up at 7 a.m. for classes, then come to work for 1p.m. Yeah, like that doesn't suck. By the time I get out of here, I'll have bags under my eyes. Then my beautiful face will be ruined. The Panicking Customer Great, she's yawning. I'm boring her to sleep. That's perfect. I can't keep up an intelligent and interesting conversation with a girl. Great, at this rate, I'll grow old and alone in a nursing home trying to pinch nurses' butts. I can see it happening. She got that tired look in her eyes. Obvious that she thinking of going to someone else who more exciting and more money. I wish I was more like Jay-Z, the rapper and my hero. I mean he has more women on his arm in the video than I have had in all my years of life. I mean I should be able to talk this woman into going with me for a ride in my car for a getaway. I can see it now. She and I walking on the beach at midnight after a romantic dinner with the moon as our light. We look in each other's eyes and move our faces closer, closer, almost touch her lips with my own. The Impatient Stripper I was staring at him for a while. He was quiet and in a daze. He must be daydreaming about me. I've had that happen to me before. I let him stay for a little bit. I knew he was hooked on me. I knew I could get him do anything I wanted. I'm taking too much time with this guy. I got other people to appropriate funds from in here before my co-workers get their fake nails on them. I think it was time to take him in the back for a private dance. I needed to get something for my time spent with the newcomer. I asked him point-blankly about the dance. Is this guy ignoring me? Boy, he's really deep in the daydream. I may have to shake him. The Daydreaming Customer "Hey, I'm sorry. What you asked?" I said. "Would you like a private dance," Mercedes asked. I was immediately excited with the prospect of being alone with her. With desire and ignorance leading my mind, I almost quickly agreed. Outside I sounded indifferent. Inside, I was as giddy as an 8 year old on Christmas morning. I followed her to the back of the place where the private dances were held. There were cushion seats that were put in half circle like you would see at Denny's or IHOP. She told me it cost $20 a dance for a song. I said ok and waited for the dance to begin. The dance begun and she unhook her jump suit. She was wearing no bra. Wow, I thought. She began to sway with the music. Her breasts were not too big or too small. Her thong panties were red like her jumpsuit .She rocked like a boat on smooth seas. She moved her body close to me, putting my face in the valley that was her cleavage. I inhaled her scent. She had a scent of baby powder on her. She looks nice and smells nice. Wow, this is a treat. She turned around and got to see her ass. It was round, big, and firm with a tattoo on it. I wish my hand was on the tattoo as it shakes with the beat. The Working Stripper Yeah, you would like to touch these breasts, wouldn't you? You would like to squeeze them like melons. I know you want my ass too. It's so round, firm, and big too. You want to take me right now in the booth and have your way with me. Fat chance fat boy, you touch me in those places I'll get your ass beaten and thrown out forever. I'm in control here,' I told him in my mind. So I kept my eyes on his and gave him a sultry smile. I saw amazement, wonder, and lust. Mostly lust. I was earning my $20 and giving him something to dream about tonight. The Satisfied but broke Customer I wanted to touch her so badly, anywhere really. I was afraid of offending her in some way and getting kicked out. So I just watched with awe and lust in my head as she danced. Her hips were moving and grooving. Her breasts were shaking and quaking. Her butt jiggled. She rubbed on me again constantly, and I felt great. As she rubbed on me again, I gave in and touched her on the small of her back. I felt her skin. It was a smooth as silk. Then the song ended and she stopped dancing much to my disappointment. The dance could have lasted forever, but all good things come to an end. So I paid her the money. I would have gave more except for one thing. I didn't have a dime left. One important lesson learned here: Bring more than $20 bucks to a strip joint. Anyways, I said goodbye and left the place with a empty wallet and a lot of memories. It didn't matter that I was broke and had little gas in my car with little to no chance of getting to gas station ten miles away. The important thing was I got the most beautiful woman in the world to flash me her breast, show me her ass, and rub against me. It was a dream comes true. I will remember her name, Mercedes forever. The Satisfied and Richer Stripper Well, he was a gentlemen. He didn't hoop or hollers like the other. He was a nice guy. I almost wanted to give him back his $20. Well almost, but I will always remember his name. Brant, Brent, Brain. Damn, I forgot his name. Oh well, he'll be back. Well here my next customer. "Excuse me, would you like some company?"