Why I Write
When I write, I draw on my experiences as a woman with a painful past, a rapturous wife and mother, a world traveler, and a spiritualist. For me, writing is an art form. Like an artist, the work becomes more than I imagined it would be. When I set out to write a story with a particular idea or character in mind, words I cannot claim as my own flow from a magical and mysterious place through me and onto paper. The work takes on a life of its own; it is living art. The process fascinates me, satiates me, and makes my life more meaningful.
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The Path Back Author's Note: This story was written from a prompt which included the characters' names. This story is not about, based on, or in any way connected to my real life sister, Natasha.
The Path Back
* Erotica *
Tasha glanced in the full length glass mirror as she adjusted her black with silver corset and thigh high stockings. Her sheer black robe hung loosely over her shoulders. Strategically, she contemplated her evening with Bill. This would be a turning point in their marriage; it was time to get back on track.
Turning to the side, she grinned at her reflection. Restricting her diet for the past two months has paid off, she thought as she ran a freshly manicured hand down her right hip. Gone were the bulges from six years of family-style meals and nightly chocolate desserts, Thursday night beers and Saturday evening margarita parties with the friends across the street. As the pounds had dropped her mood had lightened, and the depression that had a hold of her for almost a year evaporated. She’d learned during the past couple months how powerful it was to regularly spark her endorphins, and five days a week she secretly hit the gym after Bill left for work. She felt firm muscle under her skin for the first time in years. Her hand moved across the top of her stocking to the inner thigh as she thought about how surprised he’d be when he saw her without the frumpy clothes she’d been wearing to disguise her body’s transformation. When was the last time he saw her naked, she wondered? They hadn’t made love in months, and even then she’d insisted the light be off. The depression had controlled her mind and her body. After a while, Bill had stopped trying to touch her.
Tasha hadn’t meant to punish Bill with her sadness, but that’s what happened.
She watched in the mirror as her head rolled gently to the side and her hand moved up her thigh. Tonight, Bill will remember what it was like when they first met, when night after night the fire in them burned so hot they couldn’t sleep with more than a sheet on the bed. He’ll remember the way he used to touch her with desperate gentleness, like a thirsty man drinking out of a crystal chalice. Her thumb grazed the soft mound beneath silky black panties and a sigh escaped her lips.
Tasha traced the tip of her nail along the crease where her leg met her body, imagining Bill’s hands on her skin. She reveled in the tickling sensation until the hairs on her arms stood up and her nipples were erect. Unable to resist, she slipped a finger underneath the satin edge of her panties, eyes closed, and touched her hot wetness. Her eyes snapped open a moment later when the telephone on the nightstand emitted its shrill ring. With a pounding heart she rushed to answer it.
“Hello?” she said, breathless.
“Mrs. Carleton, this is the Concierge. I’m calling per your request. Your husband has just picked up his room key and is heading up.”
“Thank you so much for the call!” She replaced the receiver and rushed to the closed door of the adjoining room. She pressed her ear up to it and listened.
She didn’t wait long before she heard the door to the next room open and close.
His muffled voice called out, “Tash? You here?”
There was silence then, and Tasha knew he’d found her note and the length of black fabric on the bed. A moment later, she heard him laugh.
“Alright! Are you serious? A blindfold?” There was a pause, then, “Okay, undressing now!” He was talking loud, like he knew she was close by.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, figuring two minutes would be plenty of time. As she brought her gaze back around, she caught her reflection in the mirror again. Her hand touched her lips as she gasped; she almost didn’t recognize herself. It’d been so long, she didn’t think she could still look this beautiful. And she didn’t think she’d ever feel this vital, this passionate, again.
She could feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. Bill deserved the special treatment he was going to get. Early on, he was frustrated by her withdrawal and his inability to reach her. But he never deserted her. Instead, he dealt with his frustration on his evening jogs; though the leaner his frame became, the more she cringed at the idea of him touching her flabby body. What a vicious cycle! Her heart had told her all along that he wouldn’t care if she weighed five pounds less or thirty pounds more, but her mind was a powerful vice. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t able to control her psyche, until a few months ago. That day, she’d looked at Bill across the breakfast table as he read the morning paper, and her heart had swelled with love at his gentle disposition and quiet masculinity. The fog had lifted in that moment, and as he leaned over her and kissed her forehead before heading out to work, she’d made a decision to change her life.
Leaning her forehead against the adjoining door, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the delicious electricity coursing through her body, its epicenter the storm developing between her legs. When the minutes had ticked by, she reached down and grasped the door knob, turning it slowly.
“Tasha?”
His voice sounded uncertain, almost frightened. He sat bolt upright on the bed, naked except for the black band tied across his eyes. His cock stood at attention.
Tasha smiled. “Shhhh,” she whispered as she crossed to the foot of the bed. Tufts of ebony hair fell across the blind fold, and a five o’clock shadow darkened his face. His wide chest heaved with each breath. He started to speak again but the words caught in his throat when Tasha lowered her mouth on his big toe and sucked gently. Slowly, he lay back on the pillows.
Cat-like, she crawled onto the bed, kissing the arch of his foot and then his ankle. She rubbed her cheek against his calf before gliding her tongue along the crease at the inside of his knee. His breathing had changed, encouraging her forward. She began a meandering trail of kisses up his inner thigh, using her tongue to push and lick his skin. When she reached his package, she stole a glance up at his face.
Bill’s head was tilted back on the pillow; his shallow breath escaped through parted lips. He held a fistful of rumpled sheet in each hand. She grinned, then nestled her face in the furrow of soft flesh and coarse hair at the top of his inner thigh, and probed with her tongue.
The musky scent of his desire intoxicated her. On the taut skin of Bill’s stomach, she traced his cock with her tongue. As she rounded the tip, his shaft jumped, but she resisted the urge to take him in her mouth just yet. Continuing back down the other side, she lowered her face to his balls. She heard him moan softly and felt his hips rise as she licked the loose skin and prodded his jewels with her tongue.
Moving to the base of his rod, she licked the velvety skin, making her way up toward the end. Her tongue flicked the quivering member that strained, seeking her, before she lowered her mouth around the swollen tip. Bill’s body went rigid; he seemed to be holding his breath. Tasha held him in her hot mouth for a second longer before squeezing him with her lips and tongue, becoming a silky glove for his manhood, fitting him like a tee. She let her mouth slide down the length of his cock to its base, where she sucked on him before gliding back up to the tip.
He was hard as a rock as she licked his dick up and down, an ice cream cone in her favorite flavor. Back up to the tip and this time she slipped her lips over his shaft again, more aggressive this time, faster. His hips rocked as he offered her his meat, and she sensed his passion growing quickly.
Tasha’s body responded to the effect she was having on Bill. The aching desire in her pussy was overwhelming, and she wanted to feel his steely hardness inside her. She pulled her mouth slowly, seductively, off the tip of his rod, and nudged his knees together so she could straddle his legs. Moving again with feline grace, she kissed his belly and upward toward his chest. His hands came up and caught her around the waist, and he froze.
With sudden brutality, he sat up in the bed, shoving her back. He tore the blindfold from his eyes, his face a picture of horror and confusion.
“Babe! It’s okay, it’s me!” Tasha’s face was etched with worry, and her hands had flown up in involuntary defense, although she knew instinctively that he’d never hurt her.
Bill’s face softened as his eyes grew wide. Gently, he took Tasha by the wrists and pulled her arms apart. His gaze dropped. He took in the rise of her breasts pushed up by the corset. She felt his eyes move down her body, lingering on the svelte waistline embraced by the lacey fabric. His hands trembled as he released her arms and encircled her waist. When he looked up, his eyes swam with emotion.
“My God, Tasha, you’re beautiful. I—I don’t--”
Tasha’s smiled quavered as a tear spilled down her cheek. “I decided it was time,” she began softly, “to be again the person I am, and the wife I want to be.”
Bill reached up, cupped Tasha’s face in his hands, and pulled her mouth to his. He kissed her deeply, with soft lips that sent a flutter through her stomach. Breaking away, he locked eyes with her. Feeling with his fingers, he unhooked the shiny silver clasps of the corset and tossed it onto the floor. He traced his fingertips down the swell of her breasts and caught her around the trunk, lifting her effortlessly and laying her down next to him on the bed.
He rolled on top of her, kissing her mouth, nuzzling her neck. He moved down her body, drinking in her flesh, kissing all the places where for years she was ashamed to be touched. She felt light and feminine, and she arched her back so he knew no zone was off limits. With a tug and a whisper of satin like butterfly wings against her skin, Bill slipped off her panties.
Positioning himself between her legs, he kissed her inner thighs. Tasha reached her arms overhead, eyes closed, and grasped the edge of the pillow as the tip of Bill’s tongue glided over her slit. He traced circles around the bud of her clit with his tongue, flicking it playfully at times, increasing and decreasing the pressure until she thought she’d lose her mind. She pressed against the bed with her heels, lifting her hips, as Bill slipped an arm under her buttocks. He drove his tongue deeper than before, finding her rhythm, drinking her in. She lost herself in the mounting pleasure. Just as she climaxed, Bill slid a finger into her, sending her orgasm to the next level.
Her pussy muscles’ spasms were still like sound echoing off canyon walls when Bill moved on top of her and drove his throbbing manhood into her. Her head fell back as she moaned. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling his hips closer, rocking against his cock. She kissed him hard on the mouth, her tongue finding his, pushing against it with a rhythm that matched her hips. She explored his neck with her mouth, kissing the hot skin, and whispering “God, I’ve missed you” over and over in his ear.
Bill’s face tightened as he raised his torso, his hips rocking more slowly, and he looked deep into Tasha’s eyes. “I love you so much, babe,” he said in a voice hoarse with passion.
Tasha pulled him closer as he lifted her hips to him. The angle was magical, their rhythm became synchronized, and the fire between them blazed. Bill drove his raging rod deeper into her, filling her up. The room disappeared, the world evaporated, and all she was aware of was her husband and the rising tide of her imminent orgasm.
Her hips rocked and a primal moan escaped her as she rode wave after wave of pleasure. When the room came into focus again, she reached around Bill’s waist and grabbed hold of his ass, pulling him ever deeper into her. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were closed. She felt every inch of his cock, gliding almost out, and then driving into her again. He moaned as she let her knees drop farther apart, sliding her hips to exaggerate his motion, and the first spasm hit him. He cried out as he came. His body stiffened, but Tasha’s kept moving as she drove the walls of her pussy along the length of him, until she felt his body relax.
Spent, Bill rolled to the side and lay next to Tasha, their arms and legs still intertwined. It was a moment before either of them spoke.
Bill turned his head toward Tasha. “That was the most intense experience of my life,” he said, leaning his forehead against the side of her head.
She turned and softly kissed his lips. “For me too.” She paused a moment, then added, “I’m so sorry for the past year or so. I realize now how depressed I was, and through it all, you stuck by me. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I love you so very much.”
Bill smiled at her. “Babe, I’m the one who’s lucky. You’re the only girl for me,” he said, punctuating the remark with a kiss. He pulled back suddenly. “And,” he went on with a devilish grin, “you’re smokin’!”
Tasha rolled on top of Bill, pleased to feel his still hard cock pressing against her belly. “I plan to spend the rest of my life showing you just how lucky you are,” she said as she slid his dick back inside her.
(WC = 2,375)
FIRST PLACE WINNER OF:
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The first boldfaced sentences were the prompt. My task was to finish the story.
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