Moscow ordered for both of us in perfect French. I listened closely and gathered we were starting with a soup of some kind and then a dish with prawns and more red wine. The server returned shortly with slices of warm baguette in a bread basket. “Merci!” we both chimed enthusiastically. It seemed that Moscow liked warm bread as much as me. Well, despite his nickname, he was French!
It was an unseasonably warm spring day outside of a small café on boulevard de la Tour Maubourg in the heart of Paris, I sat taking in the sights and sounds of the city. In the distance, I could just make out the lights from the Eiffel Tower as the sun made room for nightfall. Cars rolled along and people strolled by on their way home or to an evening of magic in this city of wonder. It was shaping up to be the perfect Parisian evening.
Samantha put the cool glass of bubbling champagne to her full painted lips and drank. She closed her dark eyes as she swallowed, trying to savor every drop. She took a deep breath to calm herself knowing what was to come.
Blink once, what to do? Right swiped for those eyes. Mind open, golden rule, you took me by surprise.
The private cab Sir had called moved us slowly and smoothly through the city streets of London. With the privacy partition, it felt like we were very much alone, Sir and I.
Our table sat in a dimly lit corner of a side alcove off the main dining room in an aging Italian restaurant. We were fairly isolated from the rest of the diners, just the way Sir likes it. I pressed a glass of cool prosecco to my lips and drank in the smooth sparkling wine. As I swallowed, I felt the coolness in my throat followed by a heat rising to my cheeks. I could feel his eyes on me. I returned the glass to the table and slowly raised my eyes to meet his steel-gray stare. His gaze was amiable but intense. He was studying me. I felt my lips drying up from the drink, and ran my tongue over them to bring back some moisture. I smiled, he did not.
Warning: Contains explicit language and graphic sexual references. Only for readers 18+.
A toast to summer, glasses rise, so does fate. Painted flames light the sky to help celebrate. Hot days, cool nights, warm hugs, cold drinks. Listen close, hold my tongue, talk less, don’t jinx. Spin the globe and choose the place to be... anywhere in this world, yet tonight you’re with me. We stare, we drift, we drink, we talk. We laugh, we share, we kiss, we walk. Pour the wine and cocktails, and the sugar between. Hold my hand, lead the way, through your eyes to be seen— A city entangled, embraces success. New buildings and parks, all contrived from a mess. You’ve seen it go up, and you’ve watched it fall down. You’ve embodied the heart and the soul of this town. Yet tonight, your attentions stray not but a mile. On this ride, touch my leg, start a flame, make me smile. Body to body, stoke the fires within. Heat the oil, rub my back, up and down, then begin. A night full of magic, soon enough to expire. My words led you here, on a path to desire. It’s ok, I can tell, you were moved in a way, to ensure I remember summer nights in LA.
When she returned to the bedroom, wrapped in a plush white terry cloth robe, Ken felt his heart drop to his stomach. It was the sight of her beautifully bronzed-brown skin next to the bright white cloth of the robe and her hair pulled up, which accented her slim long neck. He wanted to kiss her neck and feel her warmth underneath him. Lisa was surprised to see the room decked out in fragrant candles and flowers. The bed was covered in a shiny-plastic or rubber-looking sheet. “What’s all of this?” she asked taking in the very romantic scene before her. Ken smiled and for the first time she realized that he had completely disrobed.
Remember the short story I've been working on -- Passion's Curse? Well, I finished my first draft! I really agonized over the ending and finally made a decision and just wrote it, knowing I would change it in the revisions to come. Again, I didn't love how the story was ending, but I committed to the writing and the first draft is done! It feels so good to have a completed draft of my first significant creative writing project.