Daily Archives: June 28, 2017

Warmth Of Love

I wake up each day to the warmth of her love, arms around me , holding me close .

I feel a tingle , my lips curve into a smile, feeling the heart that beats for me, my face touch his chest.

I pamper the child , that she is ,thanking god for this ethereal bliss .

I kiss her awake with a little pat ,looking at me she gently smiles .

I blush …..

Eyes looking away .

This is how it was yesterday ,

How it is today,

How I wish it be when –

I wake up each day to the warmth of her love 

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Posted by on June 28, 2017 in poems


The Power Of Red

I dropped the pen and paper on the coffee table and stood up.

“What are you doing?” he asked and a mixture of gray and red engulfed his aura.

I put my hands on my hips. “Since you’re not exactly forthcoming with this, I’m going to test my theory on red. Are you going to let me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. This was either going to be insanely fun, or a disaster. I was hoping for the former.

His hands raised in surrender. “You’re in charge. Test your theory.”

“Face me,” I commanded with a slow twirl of my finger.

He turned and settled back into the couch, waiting.

I moved in front of him and as I pushed forward, he spread his long legs wider to give me room. I didn’t stop until my knees hit the front of the couch. I pulled the band out of my hair and let the messy curls fall over my shoulders.

Then I leaned forward and reached out, running my hands through his hair. God, but I loved his hair.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. When he finally opened them and looked up at me, the heat in his gaze burned me. His aura was losing gray by the second and the red was only growing stronger. Brighter. His hands balled into fists in his lap and I grinned.

My hands moved to his face, running along his jaw. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feel of his skin. The roughness of the stubble. I opened my eyes and circled his lips with my index finger, pulling his bottom lip down slightly. Red consumed his aura, leaving no trace of fear behind.

His fists opened and he skimmed his palms over my outer thighs, keeping his eyes on me.

My stomach did a few flips at the sensation. I wanted to see how far I could take it. My index fingers traced the shells of his ears before I snaked my fingers around the back of his neck and gently fisted a handful of hair, pulling his head back.

A groan escaped from him and he closed his eyes. He swallowed and his Adam’s apple jutted out and bobbed.

He opened his eyes and watched me through hooded lashes. The red in his aura grew thicker and pulsed.

But I kept going. I knelt down in front of him and his eyes widened, but he didn’t look away.

I placed my hands on his knees and splayed my fingers out over the warm material. My hands moved forward slowly, stopping halfway up his thighs. His mouth opened and his aura heated up, glowing brighter, molten red and alive. I reveled in the feel of him.

My courage surprised even me. He admitted his feelings and it empowered me. It was a beautiful high I hoped to never come down from.

Ever since the first night I saw him, I wanted a moment like that. If I thought I was turned on by the mere sight of him, then what I felt with him in that moment was far beyond anything I ever felt before. With every cell in my body, it called for him. I fed off his energy and poured it back into him.

That was what it felt like to burn for someone.

Warm hands caressed up and down my arms and I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation. When I finally opened them, he was still watching me. I ached for his hands to touch me. Everywhere. And my belly tightened in the sweetest way. It made my mouth water.

Fingers followed the curve of my shoulders to the back of my head, sending shivers through me. My eyes slid closed and I focused on breathing.

Something sounded off in the back of my mind. I should stop, slow down. But I pushed it behind a door and locked it, refusing to back down from something so amazing, so soon.

I crawled up in his lap and he gasped, his aura nearly exploding as I straddled him.

The urge to kiss him was so strong; I had to stop myself from closing the distance between us. I’d never kissed anyone before, and I had no idea what I was doing. I wanted him to kiss me like I needed air in my lungs. But except for his hands, he hadn’t moved. I had no idea if he even wanted to kiss me.

Without realizing what I was doing, my arms wrapped around his neck and I ground against him. I gasped, biting my lower lip, feeling his hard length press against me in exactly the right spot.

If moving like that with our clothes on could feel so good, I couldn’t imagine how good it would feel without them.

At first, he didn’t move, but when I ground against him again with a breathless moan escaping my lips, his hands moved to my hips, holding me in place.

I thought he was going to stop me, but he watched me for a moment before he arched up, increasing the friction.

“Oh, god,” I moaned with the same breathless sigh at the pure heat and pleasure coursing through me. It was all I could do to keep from crying out. But I couldn’t stop myself from moving.

He whispered my name. It was an admonition. I reveled in it and watched as his aura burned in a bright red glow that ebbed and flowed and grew brighter with every movement I made.

And I didn’t want to stop.

I knew I had to force myself to stop. If I kept going, I wouldn’t be capable of such a feat. Hovering too close to the edge as it was, I stopped moving, and leaned back a little. My head dropped forward and I panted, trying to slow my breathing. God, but that was intense. I wanted that moment to last forever.

He let go of my hips and touched my face, lifting me so I could look at him. He was panting too. “Wow,” he breathed. Then, in a low voice, he said, “Not that I’m complaining — and I’m not — but what the hell was that? I was about to explode.”

I smiled. “That was me testing my theory. I think I’m pretty sure what red is.”

His eyes narrowed, “Are you sure?”

“I think so,” I chuckled and nodded.

“You should make sure,” he smiled.

My mind was slowly beginning to return from the haze of the moment and I laughed. “I’m pretty sure red means desire, perhaps more. How am I doing?”

“You’re right. There’s a little more to it than just desire, but you got most of it.”

“What’s the rest?”

“It can also mean love. Pink is a precursor to red, so it’s basically the same thing, just on a smaller scale.”



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Posted by on June 28, 2017 in Short Fiction

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