Fantasy passion

I took the time to pick up one of the cats and deposit her on the sofa beside me. I stroked her head gently, waiting to see if this was where she wanted to be. She settled for a few moments, then leaped away when Aaron walked into the living room. “Aww, you made her run away,” I pouted.

“If all you want is company, all you have to do is ask,” he replied before sitting beside me. He turned to face me and rested his left arm along the back of the sofa.  We were close, but not intimately so. Despite my not-so-secret infatuation with him, I felt wary being alone with him (aside from the two cats). His phone call inviting me over brought my guard up. Though we’d discussed sleeping together last time he was in town, he’d politely declined informing both myself and my husband that sleeping with a best friend’s wife is bad. I decided being straight forward was the best strategy.

“Did you invite me over to have your wicked way with me?” I shot him a coy smile as I brushed his fingers with mine. He didn’t speak, but he lifted his index finger to play, reciprocate my touching and I noticed a light in his eyes. “Is that a yes?” My fingers curled into his open palm and I waited.

I gasped in surprise when he grabbed me and quickly pulled me toward him. I landed awkwardly and used my left hand to push myself upright. This move put my head back at the proper angle and soon enough his lips were firmly against mine. The kiss was only momentary before he withdrew, saying, “That’s a yes.”

Giggling, I sat up and removed my glasses. I set them on the coffee table, then returned to my end of the loveseat. He gave me a look of confusion – his eyes narrowed and head  tilted to one side – and I merely beckoned him to come over. “I know how much you like to be in charge, Aaron.” He chuckled as he slid toward me. I spread my legs apart, one propped along the sofa back and the other dropped to the floor. When he settled against me, I brushed my palms up his biceps and to his shoulders, revelling in the feel of his strength.

Our mouths met again, this time for a much longer acquaintance. I parted my lips in invitation and moaned happily when he accepted. His tongue slid inside and met mine and we tasted each other. My fingers toyed with his downy soft hair. Jesus, he had such great hair!

Rose’s dilemma

With an entire day to wait for Jerlia, the ore merchant, to return with the illithium alloy, Rose and company spent most of it at the Den of the Seven Vales. There were little things to catch up on, such as a fair distribution of party gold, armor and weapon repairs, not to mention general downtime to relax (of which the party has had little).

Rose wanted everyone to stay together, mostly because she knew little of Athkatla and its strict laws. Kelsey was smart enough to not cast any spells in public, but there was that whole fiasco with Ceara’s minions and Rose was worried another of the bitch witch’s hunters would strike again. Valygar, though acquainted well enough with the city, is currently persona non grata with the Cowled Wizards. Yoshimo seemed fine to be left on his own, but he enjoyed nicking things a bit too much. Minsc, oh Oghma no. There was no way in the Nine Hells she’s allow the Rashemi out alone, Boo or no Boo. The only one left was Anomen. Her only concern was his hunger to find out who murdered his sister. Rose knew well enough about that type of hunger. It didn’t diminish, even with the murderer slain by your own hand.

She sighed, deciding she wouldn’t keep everyone locked away. At the noon meal, she told all that they could go about the city if they wanted, but to travel in threes. “Preferably with either Anomen or myself since we’re the only ones allowed to cast spells,” Rose said before tucking into the Den’s vegetable stew. The men gave tacit agreement. She understood. What adult wanted to be restricted like a misbehaving child?

With the meal finished, the party dispursed from the table, except for Rose. She stayed seated and toyed with the spoon, stirring the dregs of her stew in contemplation. Her life was at a turning point, not due to Irenicus or Imoen’s kidnapping, but to Kelsey’s and Anomen’s peacocking for her attention. She asked the barmaid for another Golden Sands. When her drink arrived, she sipped it lazily as she thought of each man.

Kelsey, the personable merchant cum sorcerer. Open and friendly, willing to listen. Rose really liked to be able to talk to someone about things other than her origins. She’d even told him about her childhood dream of becoming a Watcher at Candlekeep, something Imoen didn’t know! With her second Golden Sands drunk and a third on its way, she still couldn’t scratch the itch that something was wrong whenever Kelsey turned his flirtiness her way.

Anomen, a warrior-priest of Helm and squire to the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. Brash on the outside, painfully unsure of himself on the inside. The only downside Rose could find was his constant need for reassurance. Perhaps she the strong attraction she felt wasn’t love or lust, but motherly? Oh Oghma! The ale hit her belly hard as she gulped the tankard empty. She definitely did NOT want be his replacement mother!

Turning in her seat, she searched for Anomen. He stood near the bar, deep in a heated discussion with the owner of the Den. Rose got to her feet, a tad shaky, and strode across the tavern toward the arguing pair. Interrupting the stout woman in mid-rant about “not having no hairy males stink up ‘er bathhouse”, Rose touched Anomen’s left arm and he turned toward her. She leaned in and planted a kiss on his mouth. It only lasted a few seconds before he quickly pulled away and a blush came through his dark complexion.

It lasted long enough though. Rose relished the sensation warming her body, knowing it wasn’t all due to the ale she’s drunk. She’d hadn’t felt this for over a year, but it was unmistakable. She’d felt the same when Hull had dragged her into the alcove underneath the stairs of Winthrop’s inn; when she’d shared a night with Garrick at the Burning Wizard in Beregost. And it definitely wasn’t motherly.

Short #2

*tick*

*tick*

*tick*

Eyes glared at the wall clock, willing it to cease its increasing annoyance. The slender second hand continued its twirling in ignorance. The eyes returned to the paper, watching as the thick, black ink spilled across in steady strokes and neatly formed words.

*tick*

The ink abruptly halted. The eyes narrowed as they watched the delicious ink form a disgusting blob in the paper’s weave. Another ruined! Time cared none for wastage, smug in the knowledge that paper *did* grow on trees. Another sheet joined a long line of ancestors, most of whom resided in the trash.

Short #1

He knelt on the cool, tiled floor, arms locked at the small of his back and knees openly spread. His cock hung limply between muscular thighs. Those grey eyes he used to stare so coldly at her a month ago were sheltered by long eyelashes as he kept his gaze upon the floor. Unlike her other clients, this one did not rest on his haunches, instead with a straight back as though resting on a kneeler. She approached him and slowly ran an end of her rattan cane from his groin to his chin, smiling as he shivered in response.

Grrr

So many ideas, just not putting them to virtual paper.

Tomorrow, I will write.

What this is

A place for me to write ideas, snippets and stories.

I’m sure this will be better than Post-it notes.