Black Short Stories : Curiously Strong

Discussion in 'Short Stories - Authors - Writing' started by blakgeek, Jul 28, 2004.

  1. blakgeek

    blakgeek Member MEMBER

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    Marisa lay on the bed. A shear scarf covered her eyes, not blinding her only obscuring her vision. She could see Vaughn's distorted silhouette hovering over her like an archangel of sexual pleasure. She could only imagine what he planned for this afternoon. In the past months he had taken her all new levels of physical ecstasy. Levels that she never even knew existed. Levels that defied her comprehension of what pleasure could be. Yesterday he'd sent her an email that simply read "tomorrow your release will be curiously strong :p". Now what the hell that meant she had no idea, but she was [email protected] sure ready to find out. When she entered his loft, the smell of Khush incense was strong and the air was hazy with their aromatic cloud. He came up behind, sensually wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her on each of her shoulder blades. His tongue meandered along her shoulder. Up her neck. Then paused so he could nibbled on her left ear lobe. He knew her spot well. The sensation of his lips and teeth on her ear coupled with the anticipation of what was to come had her instantly aroused and on the verge of a female premature ejaculation. She could feel the moisture seep from within and onto her thighs. Eyes closed, she braced herself against him. He supported her with his body but took his hands away. The smooth silk of the scarf moved over her face. There was gentle pressure as he pulled it taut and tied it. Marisa was led across the room to the bed that had served as the stage for scores of their erotic performances. He laid her down and went to the window to raise the curtain for the opening act. Vaughn always said "What is the use of a great performance if there's no audience?" He was the quintessential exhibitionist. Now she was draped across his bed, visually impaired and about to become an improvisational player in his latest production. One for which only he knew the script. She felt him begin to undress her. His hands traveled deftly down her center undoing one button after another until her full firm peanut butter shaded bosoms were exposed. He loved the fact that her breasts never traveled far; unlike some he'd seen.

    The cool breeze produced by the ceiling fan that whirled overhead transformed her nipples into chocolate brown obelisks that beckoned him. He alternated back and forth planting tender kisses on and around them. Spending just enough time on each not to leave the other jealous. Then he was moving away from her and gone. He returned and an electrifying rush of blissful shock shot through her body and lingered in her toes and fingertips. The ice cube in his mouth formed snowcaps on mountains of her breasts. The frigid ice on her nipples was in sharp contrast to the ever-intensifying fire building between her thighs. The frozen water between his lips became the pen he used to scribe hieroglyphic scriptures from her chest to just below her naval. His left index finger charted the contours of her face. Along the edge of her right ear to the ridge of her high cheekbones. Across the tops of her eyelids and down her nose to her full dark lips. It continued its Magellanous journey circumnavigating the globe of her feminine form. Led by the currents of her passion it drifted into her southern hemisphere and found refuge in the warmth of her fleshy central harbor. It slowly retreated and he was gone from sight again.

    She heard the muffled sound of hollow tin rattling, followed by the rustling of paper. He returned to the bed and kneeled before her as if about to pray. Kissed abstract patterns on her inner thigh. Took communion by sipping the ambrosia of her juices that had escaped and now sat like morning dew on her skin. There were more sounds of paper crinkling followed by the most intense explosion of exquisite heat she has ever experienced in her life. It was like a supernova exploded and a new galaxy was reborn within her. The sensation traveled outward from the walls of her vagina to every nerve ending in her body. Her frame trembled and contorted uncontrollably. He braced himself with her, wrapping his arms around her thighs. She needed it to stop with out ending. She tried to push him away with her legs while simultaneously pulling his head deeper into her. Caught in an agonizing state of euphoria, in that moment she was a living contradiction. She was light headed. Could not catch her breath. Drowning in it all, she gasped for air and the scent of peppermint mixed with her own aroma filled her nostrils. She could feel him searching inside her with his tongue, rolling it, flicking it, moving it in ways to complex to describe. She fought the urge to give in. Would not allow the orgasm take her yet. His tongue withdrew and a steady artic wind flowed from between his lips and onto her labia. She cried out. It was like she had been dipped in menthol. With his thumb, he slowly exposed her most sensitive spot and redirected the cool stream of air to it. That was all it took to send her over the edge. That was all she could bear. Her entire being went rigid in a state of temporary paralysis. She was rendered momentarily blind, deaf and dumb. A river of nectar flowed out of her and onto his chin and the sheets below. Hands grasping her midsection, he drew her closer to his face and performed fellatio on her clitoral erection. Sucking it with fervor. Creating light contact with his teeth. She was helpless. Completely spent and powerless. Beyond high. Past a religious experience. She would have to look down and strain her eyes to see nirvana from the level she was on. He released her and she fell limp to the bed. He walked to the window and let down the curtain. The performance was complete. He lay on his back with his head resting on her stomach and found sleep. She continued to float, to dream, to try to separate this reality from the dream and then let sleep take her.

    When she awoke she removed her silken cataract, looked down at Vaughn sleeping peacefully and smiled. Then something on the bed caught her eye. It was the small white and red tin container laying next to buttocks. On it, printed in red block letters were the words "CURIOUSLY STRONG". Below that in larger black letters was one word. "ALTOIDS". Marisa's smile broadened. Eating a peppermint would never be the same.
     
  2. sarcasm4eva

    sarcasm4eva Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    this was def. tyte and very descriptive. keep writin n i'll keep readin. much love :)
     
  3. lil'MizzUnique

    lil'MizzUnique Active Member MEMBER

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    The title fit this story Perfectly!!!! I loved this piece. It was quite dramatic and interesting. Kept me hooked form begining to end!!!
     
  4. krazelyricks

    krazelyricks Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Dang, this was fire. I was feelin' this sho nuff. Keep more storys comin' and Welcome to Destee's
     
  5. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    wow...nice story heavy write
     
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