03-01-2009, 09:30 PM
Oh, thanks! You were suggested to me by a friend as being a member who made quality posts and who could keep up with me on post-length. I have not been disappointed for asking for this thread =)
The black female broke away from the contact he had established, and with her, the mesmeric scent of her body and her fur, her blue paint and warm breath. The beating of her heart left his imagination, and her lyrical mouth left his sight. At first, he thought she was shying away from him, and he tried to pursue, to re-establish the contact that she had shied from, to show her that it was okay, that it was good, to get her to feel how he felt, to let her body tingle as his did, that warm electricity that radiated out from contact with another whom your body desired. But she moved out further and turned away from him. For a moment, he thought it was as it had been with Fern all over again. She disdained contact with him...but no. Her smile told him differently. She did like him. The smile was returned in his mind, though in his single-mindedness it failed to reach his face.
He wanted this...needed this. His body told him it was more important than eating, the rabbit had vanished from thought the moment he'd seen this alluring girl. His body told him it was more important than shame, because he had felt angry and inferior when Fern had rejected his advances early in their history together. His body told him it was more important than what his mother told him, because Cwmfen was turning around, offering him access to where he was supposed to be, not for comforting her, but for doing what his body wanted him to do. For a moment, his gentleness vanished, as she turned and moved, and he approached from behind, and prepared to go forward with his body's demand. To satisfy both himself and the woman who liked him.
She was smaller than him, and faster too. Not to mention smarter. Had Brennt thought through the situation more carefully, difficult to do on the best of days, and impossible now, with his hormones crying their plea of desperation and need through his encumbered mind, he would have processed that she had not stopped walking away after presenting him her back. He would have considered that she did not stop and prepare herself when he made the sudden sound of pursuit. He would have observed that, perhaps, the last smile she gave him was not approval, but regretful in nature. But he could not think through the situation, and he was not smart, like she was, or fast, and so his hope was doomed for disaster from the start.
The black female broke away from the contact he had established, and with her, the mesmeric scent of her body and her fur, her blue paint and warm breath. The beating of her heart left his imagination, and her lyrical mouth left his sight. At first, he thought she was shying away from him, and he tried to pursue, to re-establish the contact that she had shied from, to show her that it was okay, that it was good, to get her to feel how he felt, to let her body tingle as his did, that warm electricity that radiated out from contact with another whom your body desired. But she moved out further and turned away from him. For a moment, he thought it was as it had been with Fern all over again. She disdained contact with him...but no. Her smile told him differently. She did like him. The smile was returned in his mind, though in his single-mindedness it failed to reach his face.
He wanted this...needed this. His body told him it was more important than eating, the rabbit had vanished from thought the moment he'd seen this alluring girl. His body told him it was more important than shame, because he had felt angry and inferior when Fern had rejected his advances early in their history together. His body told him it was more important than what his mother told him, because Cwmfen was turning around, offering him access to where he was supposed to be, not for comforting her, but for doing what his body wanted him to do. For a moment, his gentleness vanished, as she turned and moved, and he approached from behind, and prepared to go forward with his body's demand. To satisfy both himself and the woman who liked him.
She was smaller than him, and faster too. Not to mention smarter. Had Brennt thought through the situation more carefully, difficult to do on the best of days, and impossible now, with his hormones crying their plea of desperation and need through his encumbered mind, he would have processed that she had not stopped walking away after presenting him her back. He would have considered that she did not stop and prepare herself when he made the sudden sound of pursuit. He would have observed that, perhaps, the last smile she gave him was not approval, but regretful in nature. But he could not think through the situation, and he was not smart, like she was, or fast, and so his hope was doomed for disaster from the start.