aplus
09-30-2005, 09:50 AM
http://slumz.boxden.com/showthread.php?t=438164
Crits or compliments...all feedback appreciated...A+
What I Remember
I remember leaving work early one Friday afternoon, after giving my supervisor some lame excuse that I could hardly believe he bought.
I remember renting a convertible for the weekend, picking you up at your uptown condo, and heading up to Duluth together, just to get away.
I remember holding hands while strolling along the shore of the largest Great Lake, and then shopping for jazz and classic soul CD’s at the Electric Fetus record store over on Superior Street.
I remember sitting together in a plain hotel room, munching down third-rate Chinese food from tiny cardboard boxes, and then sharing a bottle of cheap champagne.
I remember your thin curving mouth stretching across your pretty face, with a million little white teeth forming a perfect smile.
I remember you lighting several scented candles near the bed, creating a romantic glow, so you could make believe that we were glamorous lovers straight out of your favorite soap opera.
I remember you mounting me atop the still made bed. I remember still being partially clothed while engaging in passionate kisses, our mouths falling into an urgent, rhythmic embrace.
I remember my educated hands unhooking your pink brassiere with knowing ease, releasing your swollen breasts and jutting nipples from the confines of their satin prison.
I remember you stopping, looking serious all of a sudden, and then saying, “Swear that you’ll never stop being mine.”
I remember wondering at that moment whether I had actually ever started being yours, if you actually possessed me like a piece of real estate, or if you possessed me like some kind of demon.
I remember eventually feeling so aroused that I could no longer be bothered with considering the ethics of the situation.
And I remember noticing your anxious expression, then thinking about how our pending night of sexual amusement hinged on my answer, and finally saying, “I swear.”
I remember engaging in several hours of spirited intercourse, a night restless with passion. I also remember not enjoying it as much as I normally would.
I remember waking up to find you staring at me, your eyes glaring out as if you already knew the outcome of our relationship.
I remember two weeks later, after we exchanged insults and long-winded phone messages, feeling a tinge of guilt, not for any dirt that I may or may not have done, but for making a promise that I knew I could never keep.
Crits or compliments...all feedback appreciated...A+
What I Remember
I remember leaving work early one Friday afternoon, after giving my supervisor some lame excuse that I could hardly believe he bought.
I remember renting a convertible for the weekend, picking you up at your uptown condo, and heading up to Duluth together, just to get away.
I remember holding hands while strolling along the shore of the largest Great Lake, and then shopping for jazz and classic soul CD’s at the Electric Fetus record store over on Superior Street.
I remember sitting together in a plain hotel room, munching down third-rate Chinese food from tiny cardboard boxes, and then sharing a bottle of cheap champagne.
I remember your thin curving mouth stretching across your pretty face, with a million little white teeth forming a perfect smile.
I remember you lighting several scented candles near the bed, creating a romantic glow, so you could make believe that we were glamorous lovers straight out of your favorite soap opera.
I remember you mounting me atop the still made bed. I remember still being partially clothed while engaging in passionate kisses, our mouths falling into an urgent, rhythmic embrace.
I remember my educated hands unhooking your pink brassiere with knowing ease, releasing your swollen breasts and jutting nipples from the confines of their satin prison.
I remember you stopping, looking serious all of a sudden, and then saying, “Swear that you’ll never stop being mine.”
I remember wondering at that moment whether I had actually ever started being yours, if you actually possessed me like a piece of real estate, or if you possessed me like some kind of demon.
I remember eventually feeling so aroused that I could no longer be bothered with considering the ethics of the situation.
And I remember noticing your anxious expression, then thinking about how our pending night of sexual amusement hinged on my answer, and finally saying, “I swear.”
I remember engaging in several hours of spirited intercourse, a night restless with passion. I also remember not enjoying it as much as I normally would.
I remember waking up to find you staring at me, your eyes glaring out as if you already knew the outcome of our relationship.
I remember two weeks later, after we exchanged insults and long-winded phone messages, feeling a tinge of guilt, not for any dirt that I may or may not have done, but for making a promise that I knew I could never keep.