Archive | May 2016

The Crest of Snow and Copper – XXI

** Warning *** Mature content ahead *** My “sort of” erotic piece ***
I’ll be posting this short story in a few installments, weekly. Would love to have your feedback on it, pretty please?
Part 21:

There was a tingling at her lower back, almost like a slight burning. It hurt a bit, too. Still her curiosity about what he was going to say surpassed the pain.

– I’m sorry if I’m hurting you, but… – He started off again, but she had something she had to say before he proceeded.

– Amo-te. – The woman said, firmly and with certainty, causing him to look her straight in the eye.

He was, quite obviously, rendered speechless. Even though he could not speak the language, he knew as much as to understand she had just said she loved him. The fact that she did so in her native tongue only made it in a way more special and, definitely, more serious. Her eyes reassured the young man that she didn’t expect a response of any kind from him, she simply had to say it and that was that.

The same way he was apparently struggling to express something his own way, she had gone by instinct and mouthed the words on her mind uncensored. He also knew she might come to regret having so rashly said those words, maybe even sooner than either expected. She was probably regretting it right now, but it was her own conscience which had to deal with it.

Still tracing a strange pattern on her lower back, he seemed a bit far away in thought as she observed him. The girl felt that slight burning come to a halt the exact moment his hand moved to rest at her hip, but the area kept the tingling feeling it had started off with. She had no doubt now that there was some kind of spell-crafting imbued in the movement of his fingers on her back. What had he done to her?

– It is done, now. – He said, in a deep thought kind of tone, startling her. – My mark is on your back, even though most people will not be able to see it.

– What?! – She asked, confused and appalled with his words, a little anger showing through. – Ah, so that’s how you roll, heh? You fuck a girl and then you brand the girl like cattle?

Boneca | Doll

bonequinha

Boneca de trapos
Porque não sorris?
Vinda da terra dos sonhos
E não és feliz?
Nesse teu país de fantasia
Não deveria reinar a alegria?
Porque estás tão tristonha
Se a cara, ta fizeram risonha?
Pobre bonequinha
Feição feita em esgar
Sonha desde pequenina
Ter alguém para amar.

                                            28/08/2011

The Crest of Snow and Copper – XX

** Warning *** Mature content ahead *** My “sort of” erotic piece ***
I’ll be posting this short story in a few installments, weekly. Woukd love to have your feedback on it, pretty please?
Part 20:

Suddenly stopping the reckless rocking movement of both bodies, they knew they had reached ecstasy as if their beings were only one. Frames frozen in place, rigid, holding their breath under tightly shut eyes. One final thrust was like the epilogue of their encounter, neither willing to leave the other’s closeness and warmth.

How long had it been since the two of them had been standing in her bedroom, facing each other before that first kiss? It seemed as time was standing still since then.

Dropping heavily on to the bed, hugging each other, they struggled to calm racing hearts and regain control of their breathing. Once again, an unexpected sweet action from him, as the young man pulled the bed covers over their naked and exhausted bodies. Black silk sheets and a red cashmere blanket, the young woman now noticed. Was this his bedroom? It could only be, she decided; it felt just like he felt against her skin: warm, strong, mysterious, exotic and slightly rough around the edges. And a bit erotic.

She rolled on her back, snuggling against him and resting her head on his chest. His heart pounded in her ears, mixing with the sound of her own. As the girl so did, his arm reached to cradle her while his hand caressed her hair. Such caring from him was somehow weird, since he was not prone to displays of affection, but she liked it. Her hand drew shapes across his chest, absentmindedly. There was no obvious need for words as they lay there; still dwelling on the rush of sensations they had shared. Even so, he spoke, breaking the silence that layered the atmosphere.

– I want to give you something. – He said, eyes fixed on the top of her head, as his hand traced her body down to the small of her back.

The girl moved to face him, resting her chin on his chest, looking at the boy with curiosity.

Reflexões

” A alegria mantém viva na mente uma espécie de luz solar e preenche-a com uma serenidade firme e perpétua.”
– Joseph Addison (1672-1719)
Em bom e tradicional Português, já lá diz o ditado… “quem canta seus males espanta”. Cantar é um exercício de alegria, que afasta da mente as coisas que nos preocupam e a preenche com a harmonia que só a música, enquanto construção humana intrinsecamente ligada com as nuances dos mistérios naturais, consegue proporcionar. Por isso, tantas vezes canto no trabalho. Traz-me alegria interior pois distrai-me do que me está a perturbar a serenidade e, sem dúvida, trazia alegria às minhas colegas na altura da Primark, que se fartavam de rir das minhas figuras ristes a dobrar pijamas e a cantar “A Aldeia da Roupa Branca” e outros clássicos da música portuguesa. 🙂

Louca? Um pouco. Feliz? Sempre que posso. E pouco ou nada mudaria nisso.

Façam favor de ser felizes!
paisley3

The Crest of Snow and Copper – XIX

** Warning *** Mature content ahead *** My “sort of” erotic piece ***
I’ll be posting this short story in a few installments, weekly. Woukd love to have your feedback on it, pretty please?
Part 19:

Settling to a comfortable pace, they resumed their lovemaking, his hands roaming freely throughout her body and vice-versa. One large warm hand found its way down the young woman’s torso, toying with her navel and going to rest with slight pressure on her clitoris, as the second hand moved into an embraced, holding her tenderly. The girl’s back arched, responding to this new stimulus his hand offered, while her fingernails dug slightly into the straining surface of his thighs. Her body descended on his again and again, with a swirling movement from her hips, each time going a bit faster, a bit harder.

The physical manifestations of their arousal made them feel like candy apple, sweat droplets mingling, both of them red and horny, panting and shaking against each other. Man and woman both knew it would not be long before their encounter came to an end. They were now practically longing for it, as refraining from release was becoming ever so slightly painful and difficult to bear. Soon, the threshold of their orgasm would present itself, but none wished to go past that point of no return just yet.

Going at an increasing pace, their thrusting becoming rougher and their breathing shallower, the couple felt close to exploding in pleasure and anticipation. She steadied herself by firmly gripping his hips, her thumbs caressing the outlines of his gun slings, while he held her close to him, tightly in a hug, his chin finding support on her left shoulder. Pushing back from her a bit, he noticed the outline of her shoulder blades, in tension. The bones sticking out slightly against her tender white skin made the movement nearly hypnotizing. Giving in to yet another urge, he lost himself in the pleasure of nibbling and suckling those areas, feeling the slight contractions his doing so caused through her body.

Balada de um Coração Só

“Um guerreiro da Luz faz sempre algo fora do comum.
Pode dançar na rua enquanto caminha para o trabalho, olhar nos olhos um desconhecido e falar de amor à primeira vista, defender uma ideia que pode parecer ridícula. O guerreiro da Luz permite-se tais dias.
Ele não tem medo de chorar mágoas antigas ou alegrar-se com novas descobertas. Quando sente que chegou a hora, larga tudo e parte para a sua aventura tão sonhada. Quando entende que está no limite da sua resistência, sai do combate, sem se culpar por ter feito uma ou duas loucuras inesperadas.
Um guerreiro não passa os seus dias tentando representar o papel que os outros escolheram para ele.”

– Paulo Coelho, Manual do Guerreiro da Luz

Permitirmo-nos sentir tudo o que é possível a um humanos sentir; chorar de dor, rir de êxtase, dançar de alegria; cria contentamento e uma sensação de estar completo na alma.
O medo do ridículo nunca deveria impedir-nos de fazer o que o coração nos pede, assim como o medo de sofrer nunca nos deveria impedir de arriscar. A felicidade espreita em cada esquina, basta apenas aceitar tudo o que ela acarreta.

The Crest of Snow and Copper – XVIII

** Warning *** Mature content ahead *** My “sort of” erotic piece ***
I’ll be posting this short story in a few installments, weekly. Woukd love to have your feedback on it, pretty please?
Part 18:

Sweat made their skins glisten in the candlelight as their dance continued; silent apart muted sighs and breaths. He loved every time she began shaking her head sideways, as if losing a battle against herself. She leaned up, grabbing his neck as her mouth rushed to his kiss. Ginger red and raven black locks now mingled as the rest of their bodies were. His hand cupping her rear end was the only thing that prevented her from falling and he squeezed each buttock gently as new sensations unmasked themselves in that different position. The man sighed against her lips, which she nibbled on frantically, after having planted soft kissed on his closed eyes, suckling on his earlobes and softly biting along his jaw line and chin.

She was wild, as if she had finally found a freedom she had long awaited for. Every few moments, their eyes met before closing again to taste the pleasure with their minds. Every time they caught each other’s gaze, it only added to the fire blazing in on their insides. Even so, they locked eyes on eyes, widened orbs speaking what they lacked in words.

Silently agreeing to a want for change, both bodies moved in their own secret dance against one another, adjusting to a new stance. Both regretted the seconds their intimate contact was ceased, only to melt into an ocean of sensation as they were once again joined.

Her back slid down his chest and abdomen as she once more received him in her. Strong masculine hands cupped her breasts, barely able to contain the plump roundness, as she pressed herself against his torso. Their feet rested close to each other’s, toes toying with their nearest counterpart. The man giggled, which seemed a bit odd and out of character for him, before gently biting the spot where her neck and shoulder met. That was the moment she found out he was ticklish. Resting her head on his solid muscular shoulder, she let out a sigh of contentment as they began moving once more. It was the only audible proof of yearning she could allow herself to manifest, fearing that, with sound, she would break the spell they were weaving.