Don Mann: Focusing on my Craft

Tuesday, Feb. 08, 2005 - 3:52 a.m.

Tonight is Tuesday the 8th of February

I slowly open my eyes, and a gentle chorus of sighs and snores is the first thing I hear. Next, the light humming of a television on somewhere in the hotel room nearby. I think I can make out the sound of the bathroom vent fan. Dim wall-mounted lights give a warm, honey colored glow to the walls, textured with a cream-colored stucco. As my eyes fully adjust to the brightness, I tilt my head to my left.

Above and beyond the outline of my sleeping wife I see streams of light pouring from the bathroom door. Bathed in them, a young girl, about 19, is quietly burying her nose in a small hardbound book. Not taking my eyes off of the girl for a moment, I bring up my right hand and gently run my fingers through my wife's golden brown hair, letting the strands tickle the soft flesh between my digits. Moving as gently and softly as possible, I leave her side and climb out of the bed.

I stand, unclothed except for a pair of silky boxers with a tame green flower design. The girl looks up as I approach, and smiles warmly. I take the book from her, and she stands. I toss it gently aside onto a dresser, then gently wrap both my hands around her head, running my nails softly across her entire scalp as I do so, lovingly caressing her neck and ears with my fingertips. She has black hair, fair skin, and dark eyes. Her eyebrows are sharp and raise slightly as she leans in to me, and we kiss deeply for a moment. Her tongue is smooth, warm, and wet as it meets mine, still dry from slumber. She lets out a mild sigh as I slide both my hands down her neck across her shoulders down into the small of her back, just above her buttocks. I feel the soft cottony fabric of her modest nightgown pressing against my chest and stomach, it radiates warmth and raises the hair on my skin.

We pull apart, staring into each other's eyes, and I become distinctly aware of my need to urinate. I raise a finger to her lips, and pull it back as I break our stare and turn to the bathroom. Once inside, I shut the door and lock it. The bathroom smells of some sweet generic air freshener, no doubt the same as is used in all of the rooms. As I stand before the toilet, feeling the familiar rush of urine flowing from my body, I raise my head high and can make out music playing somewhere. As I finish, I turn back to the sink and full-length mirror. My face is calm and serene, and I almost look drugged. I take a mouthful of water in one hand, gargle it, and spit out my sleepiness. I brush back my short, black hair with my hands and flex my bicep muscles for a moment. Satisfied, I button the fly on my boxers and return to the bedroom/living room.

The young girl has taken my place in the bed, and is resting her head on her elbow beside my wife. Her right hand plays up and down along my wife's smooth flesh, up and down the ribs and across the small, pale belly. My wife moans lightly and turns from her side onto her back, and her chestnut-colored eyes catch the ambient light of the room. She wears a full smile on her lips, which part slightly to expose her small, pearly teeth. I walk over to her side of the bed, and both she and the girl move over to accomodate me.

Just as the girl had, I begin to run my hand up and down my wife's body, starting just below her chin, down her neck, across her shiny nightshirt, and down onto her stomach. Her breathing is soft and mild, and her eyes are closed again. The girl puts a hand upon my wife's forehead, and leans in upon her. As they kiss, I play my fingers down to her pelvis, just above the line of her soft pajama pants. The girl's right hand comes up again, unbuttoning my wife's nightshirt from the bottom, exposing her soft, pale belly all the way up to the bottoms of her breasts. The playing field now set, our two hands, like dancers, perform a ritual upon my wife's stomach, exciting the skin and inciting her to arch her back unconsciously.

Their kiss now drawing to an end, my wife turns her head toward me, staring at me as I dance my nails across her skin. As if on cue, the girl and I both move in opposite directions on her body, my left hand migrating south across her legs, her hand drifting north across my wife's breasts. My wife and I break eye contact as she pulls her head back onto the soft mattress and closes her eyes. Her legs part slightly, yielding to my touch. I brush my fingers lightly across the inside of her thighs, up and down on each side, the fabric amplifying my touch. I feel the fire of her warmth flooding my fingertips, and I close my eyes and let my fingers make a picture of her body for me. My hands now registering the slightest of vibrations, I feel a tightening of the sheet material as her toes clench gently. The muscles in her leg twitch subtlely as I again pass my fingers above her erogenous mound, moving across to the inner thigh of her left leg.

My wife's head draws up again, and a hand moves up my shoulder to the back of my scalp. I turn to her and we kiss deeply, our tongues bathing in each other's saliva, our eyes closed, our lips hot and breath like fire. Her hand pulls me down to her, and as her head touches the mattress I pass my full open hand over her groin, still locked in the passion of her kiss.

The fabric of her pajama bottom is stretched tight by the pressure of her erection, now swollen and hot behind the smooth fabric. I play my fingers back and forth across it, and feel the young girl's hand move down to mine as well. I work my hand up the girl's arm, and my wife's stomach to her breasts and onto her neck. I hear the gentle hiss of fabric as the girl takes down my wife's pajama bottom, and I feel the sheets move as she takes them off of her completely. I feel the weight of their bodies shift in the mattress as the girl stretches a leg across my wife's lower abdomen, straddling her.

My wife's tongue darts to the back of my mouth and her lips quiver out a groan as the girl eases down onto her. Her kiss becomes more passionate, more frantic as I feel the gentle rocking of the bed as the girl rides upon her pelvis. I can hear a sqeaking whine issue forth from somewhere in the girl's throat. Rather than looking up to take in the moment, I don't break our kiss, but instead stretch my left hand down my wife's body again to her hips. I brush across both her and the girl's pubic skin, my wife's lined with tiny stubble, the girl's soft and freshly shaved. My fingers take the shape of a V as I reach lower, my wife's pulsing member betwixt my middle and ring finger, the girl's soft, moist vulva rythmically rising and falling upon them.

Our kiss breaks, and I pull back my head and stare into my wife's eyes, now half-open, squinted lightly and glazed over with intimacy. Her face is a picture of nirvana, her lips parted as if begging to pronounce her love for me. I pull back more, perhaps even beyond the capability of an average human being, back until I can see the back of my own head, then back beyond that until I can see the entire room. I am floating above the bed now, silently spinning, my wife's head the center of my rotation, the whole world spinning around her...

And then I awaken.

Have fun with that one, Freud.

Delve Into The Past - Onward Into The Future