xox
Liz “SubtlePen”
(These are three, unrelated, 6-drabble ficlets, just for you.)
Drabble prompts courtesy of miztrezboo: slide, black, fluid, space, berry, quiet
Quiet
I tiptoe to our bedroom, later than I expected. I scrub my towel through my wet hair once more, my eyes never leaving his sleeping form. Standing at the window, I watch him breathe, slow and even. A quiet calm settles over me like the blanket of blue moonlight that caresses his skin. I lie down at his side, gently aligning our bodies. He sighs, and leans back against me, smelling like warmth and comfort.
“You’re home,” he mutters through sleepy lips.
"Shhh." I kiss his neck, his shoulder, his palm when it reaches back to touch my face. “Shhh.”
Space
“Missed you, so much,” he whispers, burrowing closer.
“I’m home for a while, now. No more trips until fall. You should sleep.”
He rolls to face me, his hands and lips expressing their lusty hellos. “Don’t wanna sleep.”
He presses me back, covering me with his weight and heat, eliminating every millimeter between us. My hands are hungry, travel exhaustion seeping away with every touch.
“Need you,” he murmurs. “So empty without you.” His words are a breathy moan against my skin.
My desire matches his, hard and hot between us. “Yes.”
“Fill me,” he begs, and I happily comply.
Slide
Our bodies grind and glide in a primal call and response, this, here, more, now, each urging the other toward a familiar culmination. Hot breath and slick sweat drive our anticipation, changing us from two bodies into one writhing entity.
We reach, we chase, we retreat.
We give, we take, we watch.
Climbing, desperate, we summit and fall. Blissful, sweet, melancholy at the fleeting nature of oblivion. It began and, too soon, slips away, leaving us breathless and sated.
Our bodies slide apart, yet we are still full, renewed and alive with love as we drift, clinging to each other.
Berry
“I love you,” he kisses.
“I love you,” I sigh.
I push damp, moonlit curls back from his face, admiring his sex-drowsy eyes and berry-pink mouth. He presses his cheek into my palm and hums. I taste his lips, warm and plump from rough, needful kissing, my tongue fascinated with the sweet fatness of them. His playful response is to lick mine in return, and I laugh. My need reawakens. I am eager to taste his tartness and salt, to consume and be consumed. Once is never enough in our bed, in his arms. Twice… thrice… never enough.
Never enough.
Fluid
Hot water cascades over our bodies. A lone candle flame flickers through the rippled glass door as we wash away the residue of our passionate reunion. The intimacy of this ritual doesn’t mark the end of our lovemaking, but a seamless continuation. We touch and caress and remember, cataloging new love bites and delicious aches, slippery and happy. I kiss the shaving nick on his chin, he massages muscles where I carry the stress of travel. I hold him to me, precious, amazed even after all the years we’ve shared, at how we fit, how we balance, how we flow.
Black
We arrange ourselves – pillows, sheets, arms, legs, heads – into a tangle of warm comfort. Skin fresh and damp from our shower, bodies limp and sleepy, hearts loved and loving. We kiss a few soft hellos and goodbyes, making up for the ones we’ve missed, calling an end to the alone and sending it on its way. We yawn and sigh, the house creaks, and I hear wind in the tree outside our window. I shift, he compensates. Repeat. Another soft, reassuring kiss, or two, or three. We agree that tomorrow will have no agenda whatsoever, and we close our eyes.
Drabble prompts courtesy of einfach_mich: glimmering, cut, cotton, steel, shimmer and cascade.
Shimmer
Sweat trickled down my bare back, saturating the waistband of my shorts and offering no relief from the day’s sweltering heat. I pulled a faded bandana from my pocket and mopped it across my face and neck. I stood with my hands on my hips, praying for a breeze, surveying my handiwork and the pile of weeds behind me. My gathering basket was full – tomatoes, cucumbers, corn – and my thoughts were already on the evening’s meal. I put the basket on the back porch and looked over our garden, heat rippling in waves from the roof of the garden shed.
Cotton
I washed the vegetables and picked through the herbs I’d pulled that morning, planning a light menu for the grill. I was running out of time. White wine chilling, chicken marinating, and me – filthy and smelling like hell.
I ran a tepid shower, cool enough to refresh but still sooth my aching muscles. I rested briefly on our bed, on fresh, crisp sheets, air drying under the steady hum of the ceiling fan he couldn’t live without.
I dressed in a pair of thin pants and a simple shirt, something he liked, and went back to work in my kitchen.
Steel
I heard the throaty voice of his panhead Harley rumbling nearer, and my pulse kicked up a notch. I scanned the kitchen and back porch one last time, mentally checking off my preparations, before racing to the front door. I got there just in time to see him swing his leg over, and I hardened at the sight of him in his leathers. He unzipped the chaps along the length of his muscled legs, and strode toward me.
“Have a good ride?”
He smiled and kissed me deeply, warm steel tickling my tongue. He palmed my ass and I moaned.
Glimmer
The late afternoon sun bounced off the water droplets that fell on his shoulders, his too-long auburn hair curling at his neck. One hand on my hip, he handed me a glass of wine and watched me turn the meat one final time. We ate on the porch, listening to cicadas and frogs sing their evening song, a suggestive smile on his lips.
“What’s for dessert?”
“Maybe… me.”
He licked his lips, and they shone in the twilight. “My favorite.”
A bloom of heat colored my face as I pictured being devoured. His eyes twinkled when he laughed at me.
Cut
He pushed me up against the bed and toppled with me, licking, biting, sucking, grinding. I loved the firm strength of his hands, the need expressed, the confident pleasure given. His wet lips and hard fingers traced every dip and curve of my body, hard places, ticklish places, hungry places.
He memorized the delineation of every muscle, praised my beauty, making worthwhile the hours it took to sculpt my body. Tonight I was his to mold, and I cherished every moment, giving everything he asked of me, bending to his will, dizzy and breathless as he kept me on edge.
Cascade
Finally, finally, he gave in, letting us tumble and soar, our quivering bodies awash in a bright bloom of heat radiating from within. I gasped and twitched with aftershocks as he shouted through his release. Oaths and obscenities echoed around us, followed by my name on his lips, with gratitude.
“Jasper… Oh, Jasper…”
I pulled a blanket over us as our sweaty bodies cooled, resting my head where I could listen to his heart, thudding, even and constant. My lullaby.
“I love you,” he whispered, half asleep, absently scratching and shifting to get comfortable.
I smiled, content. “Happy Birthday, baby.”
Drabble prompts courtesy of 1lavishone: steam, wet grass, doing the dishes, just a smile, fruit salad, bowling
Bowling
I trip over something in the hallway and hop on one foot, cursing and cradling my injured toes. Taking a deep breath, I look down and discover his bowling bag and shoes, two feet from the closet where they belong. He’d gone out last night for a little beer and brotherly camaraderie and, from the score sheet in his bag, it looks like he had a great night until the beer kicked in. I wonder how much it cost his manly pride to lose, again, to his not-so-little brother, Emmett.
I rub my foot and smile, putting the bag away.
Steam
I climb the stairs, fresh coffee in both my hands, and I hear the shower. Sneaking in, I tap on the foggy glass door. He pokes his head out and takes a mug from my hands, sipping gingerly and grinning. I sip mine, eyeing him up and down, soapy and half-hard, and I think I’ve interrupted something fun. I resist the urge to join him. The good morning peck I plant on his lips turns into something more and, before I know it, I’m half soaked, fully hard, and laughing. Our breakfast can wait just a while longer, I decide.
Wet Grass
I sweep the porch and watch our son earn his allowance. The sound of the engine and the smell of fresh-mown grass does something every time, reminding me of my own childhood summers, my father’s ice water jug, my mother in gardening gloves. Edward joins me, rubbing a shop rag over his hands and smelling like motor oil, and we watch Jacob finish his Saturday morning chore. The engine runs out of gas two-thirds of the way through his last pass across the back yard.
I wave off the fit he’s about to throw, and offer to finish for him.
Fruit Salad
Libby is busy working on our dinner, roasting herbed chicken, tossing my favorite apples with yogurt and whatever else she brought back from the farmer’s market this morning. The four of us sit down together, bow our heads in thanks, and enjoy an increasingly rare family meal. Edward and I share a look that says it all – twenty years have passed quickly. Simple things now resonate as the most important; a meal, a prayer, shared laughter, a warm embrace.
Too soon, Libby’s off to spend the night with a friend, and Jake heads out to a movie with his cousins.
Doing the Dishes
Jake cleared the table in gratitude for my help with the lawn. Libby was very efficient, limiting the cleanup to just a few pots and pans, plus our dishes. I turn on some music and open a bottle of wine once the kids are gone, and the mood of the evening changes. Edward washes, I dry. He takes every opportunity to douse me with the sprayer, and I retaliate with bubbles on his glasses. Before long, we’ve abandoned our wet clothes and he’s bent over my kitchen island, moaning Jasper.
With kids, you take advantage of opportunities when they arise.
Just a Smile
He turns out lights as I check doors. I leave the porch light on for Jake, and take a moment to glance at the family pictures in the hallway. Edward and I, tuxedoed and beaming, at our commitment ceremony. My sister, our surrogate, round with the twins. First days of school, vacations, pets long since passed. He holds my hand and kisses me, leading me to our room, our bed. I follow him, as I always have. We lay together, warm and close, sharing kisses and familiar, wordless touches in the darkness.
Moonlight illuminates his smile, and that says everything.
*swoons* Oh bb, those were perfect! Thank you so much!
ReplyDeleteIt's quite difficult to pick a favorite of the drabbles or even a favorite of the three. If I really, really had to choose, I'd go with the third cause I'm a sucker for E/J as fathers and kitchen sex. Mmm. I thoroughly enjoyed these.
ReplyDelete