The Little Things That Can Become Quite Large

I really did want to tell him that morning that his pants were unzipped. I really did but then he'd possibly feel uncomfortable and neither of us needed that right then. Maybe when he went to the bathroom earlier in my apartment he had buttoned but had forgotten to finish the job. It didn't matter. I just told myself that he'd figure it out pretty soon and maybe I could spare him the little embarrassed feelings that we get when intimate things become - well, exposed. (I can't believe I said that, I was thinking it but I shouldn't write it down.)

Journals aren't for that kind of talk. My mother told me time and time again how anyone who picked up my diaries could tell right away what I was thinking and really, isn't that the point? They shouldn't be reading my diary, but then again, maybe I shouldn't be writing about my new boyfriend's pants being unzipped except there was something else. Something kind of sweet and funny at the same time. I'm not good at talking about it so writing helps.

Now I'm only saying this because it was just so cute. Maybe cute isn't the right word. Not cute like a puppy is cute, but cute you know, like silly and possibly sexy too. If it had been anyone else I swear to God I wouldn't say a word, well I wouldn't write a word but it wasn't someone else it was him. It was Alan, and we're dating. There, I said it. I don't care if anyone knows. I can admit that right? But I didn't think that inviting a man over to help me spruce up my apartment would somehow equate to it being the first time I actually saw his - - his you know, oh hell what do you call it if you can't say the real word? I hate the word cock, I just won't use it. OK for the sake of being flamboyant and fun I'll call it his turtle because that's exactly what it reminded me of; the head of a little turtle just peeking out and looking around trying for the life of him to figure out where the pond was - - no, I shouldn't write it out, I know.

We were just painting my apartment Sunday. I couldn't look at the four beige walls another day. I asked Alan to come by and bring a can of any color he thought might brighten up the place. He and his dad paint military buildings for a living. Not that I thought drab gray or brown would be nice, but maybe when they got around to painting the inside of the children's ward at the hospital there might be something left over, just even a half of a gallon of anything, I really didn't care. He picked a pastel. He brought me something called Chamomile and it was soft. I really liked it. My bedroom would finally be livable and if the turtle had anything to do with it, it would be useful as well. Oh, stop it. I can't do this. Someone is going to think I'm nuts and tell on me. I'm going to catch it for even thinking what I was thinking.

The thought occurred to me that he wasn't, or probably wasn't wearing any underwear if the ever growing (now tortoise) was showing interest in me - I mean Alan, the guy with the smiling face up top was looking pretty interested in my paint-stained overalls, I have to admit I was filling them out a little better than I use to when we had met in high school. Twelve years will do that to a girl - sometimes. This feeling I was having wasn't going away, but I couldn't help myself, I couldn't stop making the subconscious connection between his pants and the den of a reptilian sea monster digging and clawing its way out of the cave to complete devour me as I stood before the only man that could save me and have me all at the same time. I couldn't help myself, I laughed....and...I guess when I laughed a little I also pointed. I pointed there.

For the first time Alan realized that his shy and somewhat unassuming smile had been deceived by the one eye that sees everything exactly the way he wants to see it - which in this case was probably spread eagle on the floor in the other room, there's no way we could have found a spot on the bed or the even the rug in my room - plastic and paint brushes lay everywhere, no it would have to be the other room - the pond! I was still tickled by the thought of what started out to be such a little thing and had literally grown to all that my imagination could take in. I wanted to see what I could actually take in - and maybe the shy and yet leading man I wanted could feel the heat rising off of the back of my neck. Maybe he could hear the echo in my chest, God knows it was loud enough.

Suffice it to say we found a reason to take a break from painting and no, I can't say I'd write everything down that happened to me but I do have a lot more respect for those armored terrapin warriors in those old cartoons...Kawabunga!

Bissell Street

"Take me" it was more of a statement than a command at first, but after she regained her composure after seeing the first blush, the confused wrinkle above his left brow, she stated her request with a lot more confidence. "Take me".

"Take you where?" he questioned, fumbling somewhat with the lousy faded Cubs ball cap on his head, turning it to the right a bit almost as if by metamorphosis to try and subdue the hard-on he was feeling creeping up on him - did she really mean that? Was she serious? He wasn't sure, and he wasn't about to look like an idiot and fall for this...trap, or whatever it might be. He wasn't sure what she wanted from him, but he was relatively sure her blouse hadn't been quite as open just a few minutes ago. "Button your shirt, I can see your .. your bra". Turning his face from her his mouth moved tightly, his lower lip tickled enough to be itched by his teeth. "Go ahead, button it" his words not as strong this time, almost as if he didn't really mean it but felt somewhat obligated to say it nevertheless.

Jewel did exactly the opposite of what he asked, going so far as to opening her blouse completely, opening each and every last soft button until everything including her bra was seen. Where this could have been a problem for him, Garren Terpe's eyes managed to steal a glimpse backward just over his left shoulder to see whether or not she was obeying him - - she was not, and this pleased the middle-aged man. He had come downstairs to get away from her actually. He wasn't sure why, but something told him he hadn't really thought the move to lead her into his side of the duplex all the way through before doing so. He thought about saying something cynical to her, but instead simply put his hands on the work table and gave up his previous notion of fixing the basement's door hinge, something that had irritated his newly divorced wife for years - - why he decided to fix it now, now that she would never be in the summer home again to hear whether or not he had finally gotten around to doing her last honey-do seemed needless. The woman he was with tonight had never stepped foot in the basement of the Chicago duplex; she wouldn't know what Loranna Terpe hated or didn't hate. It could be supposed that whatever it was about Garren that finally tripped Loranna's last nerve was certainly not to be discussed immediately. In fact, Jewel wanted absolutely never to hear the name Loranna even echoed in her presence if she could help it. "Take me now" she said in a lowered voice with just a hint of sarcastic dramatics - - throwing her head back like they do in the movies, just for effect.

Walking up to her he dropped his hands to his sides - standing now within inches of her body, his blood raced hot, fast, confused but in such a good way --he now used every muscle he could to come close enough to feel her breath, but not so close as to be caught breathing back. Her thighs began to ache, tensing up so hard beneath her jeans they nearly screamed to be touched. It had actually been a while since he'd been with a woman, this one he had never actually slept with; she was more or less an acquaintance up until this afternoon when they had met haphazardly in the park outside their duplex gate. Living next door to one another for years was something neither of them knew would lead to a moment of possibly sharing more than just a wall.

"Just where am I suppose to take you?" he asked her somewhat jovially, his eyebrows perked and his straight lips pulled tightly, barely showing his teeth as he teased her openly. "I'm not going anywhere special that I know of." With that he passed her completely, walked another two steps and made it half way up the basement steps before she followed him, kicking at his feet as he picked up his step enough to avoid being tripped up the stairs.

"How old are you?"

"53"

"And I have to tell you what I mean when I say 'take me', are you serious?"

"Oh, you wanted sex?" he teased - again with the perked eye brows, again with the tight lips, albeit this time his liquid green eyes couldn't lie to save him, they would completely deceive his coy attitude and reveal that he was also wanting more than to be a good neighbor to the woman. Her request for sugar earlier in the day had indeed been somewhat overturned through aorist conversation when she had failed to even bring a cup to pour it into. Somethings need no introduction she argued to herself, while others need a little boost. This man wasn't going to be at the gate on her terms so she waited.

Pushing open the basement door leading to the kitchen he stood just inside the entry hall purposely thinking of closing the door on her to tease her further, but never got the chance. His heart feverishly pounding as his mind raced through thoughts of what may or may not be real. He stopped short of swinging the painted door, his right hand strongly gripping the knob. He saw her in the shadowed yellow light coming up from the floor of the basement, not quite illuminating her figure fully. Her hands however were now in plain view. Stopping just short of the top stair her face low enough to look up at his but held imprisoned by the dimming of the bulb below her. Garren's eyes held fast unable to stop his staring, unwilling to stop what they told him would be his evening's plans. She moved - equally purposely - caressing her left breast. Without blinking, without sound, without saying a word her right hand expertly reached for him. The invitation was irresistible to say the least.

Imagine This

Teri really only understood her own desires barely. She couldn't face them entirely, not at twenty-six, not now at thirty-four. She wanted to feel around inside of her head, maybe use one of those forensic dust brushes she sees in all those cop shows she glued her eyes to every night. At least then she could see whether or not her own fingerprints would be found inside her mind or if she had only allowed others to tell her, teach her, train her, manipulate her into believing what she wanted to believe was wrong or dirty somehow. Today she promised her self again as she had promised her self before, today she would find the thought she could fully explore and question either out loud or on paper that she would probably end up tearing up or burning so that no one could hold her hostage to her own desires.

What was she thinking exactly? She could see her imaginary body laying naked in the sun of course, that much was clear and it must have been outside on the beach just a little further down from her own place in Malibu; after all her little condo wasn't exactly abutting a Pacific coastline. It would have to be a little further down the beach. Maybe it was in front of that big rectangular house with the dozens of matching white rocks lining the walk, lining the back porch. She wondered for a second where anyone would find so many white perfectly rounded rocks anyway? Some of them reminded her of perfectly honed movie star butts perky and posed for the camera; the valley of their backs the sandy ground holding each one of them in line, just waiting for the word "action" to begin their frontal thrusts into the ground over and over again.

She could see her naked body laying out in the sun of course, that much was clear to her and with every intermittent interrupted thought about rocks which she was sure belonged to someone beautiful, she imagined again the man behind the ceiling-to-floor windows looking down from his rectangular house and seeing his intruder just a foot from the waves that he for whatever perverted reason believed he owned simply because they dared to crash and ebb within the boundaries of what he considered to be his domain. Would he watch her bathing or think her trespass? Her mind allows him to approach. He gives his hand to her, at least in her mind he does. She wants to ask his name and she wants to speak softly, but nothing comes out of her mouth --dreams are often like that. He stares through her not at her, she wants to cover up immediately, and at the very same moment she thinks this she realizes she has every intention of being seen for as long as she can possibly stand it. He says nothing, she feels the heat for the first time coming off the sun.

Sensual Goodness

Can a woman be in love with the feelings she has when no one is around to know she is aroused? Feeling her heart beating within her, knowing her breasts ache to be held with every brilliant vibration of that hard young muscle beneath her skin. Pounding pleasure; pounding away at the very core of her soul. She cannot deny that her mind is not the only thing wandering now. Hearing her lover's breath inside her ears, imaginary yes, but fully in tune with what he really sounds like in those moments just before he enters her - seconds before he breathes into her mouth.

As the willow tree just outside the view of her laced windows bends toward the dusk she waits for him and finds her own hands lingering. Slightly gripping her upper thighs, tickles; little tickles as her shapely right long forefinger edges closer to herself - a little pull of her panties, easing the waistband just so, tracing the edge's roughness as she thinks of his hands removing the garment which holds chaste her awaiting arched hips.

"I love you" she whispers to no one, and gently she slides her finger into herself, just deep enough to feel the prick of her long nail against her soft folds - a little tease she imagines deeply, a little further to wet the lips, her two fingers make up the one of his; better to be consistent she thinks - better for the entire experience to be as close to what they have even if he is not here tonight in body. He is here now in her body - and she whispers his name before plunging deeper and more fully, more actively into her trance.