focused on me as I slowly snaked my
arms in the air while rolling my hips
back and forth. The metal chimes on my
scarf made a loud twinkling noise with
each dip of my waist. As the rhythm
increased, so did my movements. I
closed my eyes and felt the music
transcribing under my skin, directing the
muscles and bones in an orchestra of
bliss.
The sound started to come from
different directions as Shepard joined in
the dance. Walking slowly in a circle all
around, he no longer needed the music
and played by ear. It was so perfect and
raw, I dared not open my eyes and break
the spell. This was me in the purest
form; in this moment, my soul was
unshackled, if only for a song. He was
able to carry me for a while longer, but
his fingers gradually slowed due to the
intensity with which he played. His hand
reached up to my cheek to catch the tear
that had escaped. Setting the violin down
on the chair and then standing in front of
me silently, gentle hands held the side of
my face as he leaned closer to my mouth.
Instead of a kiss, teeth grazed my lower
lip and bit softly.
“Thank you,” he said.
He drove me into a frenzy and he
knew it. He didn’t have to try; it was
ingrained in his very being. I wanted to
make him experience the feelings he
created in me. An idea surfaced in my
mind. If he wanted to be entertained, I
would give him something to remember.
“Hold on, I will be right back!”
Shrieking in delight, I ran down the steps
quickly to grab a few items. I heated a
mug of hot water for some tea and filled
a glass with ice water. Taking both of
them carefully back upstairs, I searched
in my closet for another scarf.
He was sitting on the edge of the
bed watching me humorously flutter
about, preparing something.
“Okay, drop your pants and pick up
the violin. I want you to sit on the chair.”
Giving
a
serious
look
of
expectation, Shepard straightened up his
chest and smirked at my dominant
behavior. Without a word, he removed
not just his pants, but all of his clothing
before lowering into the upholstered
wing back chair. He licked his lips as I
folded the scarf in half and whispered
for him to close his eyes. After ensuring
he could not see a thing, I straddled his
lap and laid down the ground rules.
“Since you can play without
looking at sheet music, we will see how
well you play with distractions. The
more you play, the more you get played
with. If you stop, so do I. Can you do
this?”
As he simply nodded up and down,
I traced the outline of his lips with my
index finger before sliding onto his chin,
where I leaned in and dragged my teeth
along the stubbly curve.
“What do you want to hear?” His
brow furrowed in thought while asking
the question.
“Whatever your heart desires, just
don’t stop.” I laughed lightly as the game
began.
The auditory caresses penetrated
through every cell of my body. I watched
his fingers move across the strings,
giving just enough pressure to draw the
perfect sound. The small hairs raised on
every surface of my skin as I took in the
haunting melody. Removing an ostrich
plume from the vase on the dresser, I
dragged it across his torso in long,
smooth strokes. He squirmed slightly as
it brushed along his ribcage, yet refused
to falter.
Kneeling before him, I gripped his
swollen manhood with one hand and
took a drink from the warm mug of tea in
the other. Swiftly bending down I took
him in my mouth and allowed the hot
fluid to surround the tip as my tongue
danced back and forth along the ridges.
The bow skipped across the strings
briefly as he sucked in a chest full of air.
I tried not to smile, but it couldn’t be
helped. A stream of tea escaped my lips
and dripped down his length.
Allowing him to play a few more
measures before another shock, my hand
gently moved back and forth with each
interval as my lips planted soft kisses
along his stomach and thighs. I picked up
the ice water and felt his legs tighten in
preparation of the cold. I pulled a cube
out of the glass, placed it between my
lips, and then traced along his navel and
hips, down into the muscular V shape of
his abdomen that flexed with each pass.
Taking in a large drink of ice water, I
swiftly dropped my mouth over him once
more, taking in as much as possible.
Shepard lowered the violin to his
side and arched his back towards my
face. Quickly taking a sip of the hot
liquid, I plummeted down, drawing forth
a cry of pleasure. I hadn’t noticed he
removed the blindfold and was watching
in reverence as my mouth worked him
over. I knew this was another first I
could give him and make it memorable.
Looking up, his eyes were darkened, and
then shut tightly with the overwhelming
sensations. I didn’t stop like I warned;
this was too incredible to watch.
Without notice he pulled me off and shot
out of the chair, slamming me back
against the ground. His hands pulled
aggressively at the skirt to gain access to
my center.
“Damn, Violet.”
The yards of fabric only served to
frustrate him further. To prevent the skirt
from being destroyed, I urged him onto
his back to straddle him instead.
Grinning wickedly, I used my hand to
guide the tip of his shaft to my opening
before sinking down slowly. Moving my
hips around in calculated circles, I
continued the dance with him inside of
me, rocking to the tempo of our labored
breaths.
Shepard dragged his fingers against
the fabric of my bodice and down my
abdomen as I rotated my hips harder
against him. Leaning back slightly, he
pushed even deeper, causing my teeth to
clench. Growing restless beneath me, his
hands grabbed my waist and directed the
speed in which he wanted me to move.
To keep my balance, I placed my hands
on his chest and watched as he found his
release. I would never tire of witnessing
these fragile moments of intimacy.
Rolling me back over to rest
beneath him, he panted heavily as he
looked down at me from propped
elbows. “You never stop surprising me,
Violet.” His head lowered into my neck,
nuzzling along the curve.
Tracing the outlines of the muscles
on his back, I was thinking the same
thing…
Chapter 10 - It All
Falls Apart
I hummed along with the folk song
playing on the radio. The smells of
cardamom and chili filled the air as I
tested some of the spices we brought
back from the trip. Shepard had left a
few hours earlier and I busied myself in
the kitchen to keep from getting too
upset. Each time he left got harder and
harder, but the ache would ease slightly
a few days later. Thankfully, work
would keep me occupied and we could
talk in the evening, if only for a few
moments. I tried not to chide him for
being caught up in us, yet even I was
guilty of allowing my daydreams to run
rampant.
My sheets were saturated with his
scent, making me reluctant to wash them.
He was everywhere I looked, because
he worked hard with me to make this a
home. I thought at the time I was just
helping the neighbor’s kid make some
extra money in the summers with small
projects like painting and rearranging. It
had a more intimate meaning now; every
room had a distinct set of memories
attached to them. The food we ate for
lunch, music we listened to, and stories
we
shared.
It
had
been
polite
conversation; nothing personal was ever
shared. Now knowing how he felt, I
wondered how much slipped by me in
ignorance.
I barely heard the knock on the door
through the sizzling pots and music.
Peeking out of the kitchen, I could see a
silhouette through the frosted glass.
Wiping my hand on my apron, I looked
out of the side window to see Shepard’s
father, William. Opening the door
slightly, the scent of whiskey and
cigarettes immediately violated my
nostrils.
“Hey Bill, can I help you with
something?”
He frowned at my familiar use of
his name. I knew it bothered him, but he
creeped me out and it was something
small I did out of spite. As he wavered a
little before bracing his hand on the
frame of the door, I regretted answering
the knock. I had dealt with inebriated
jerks like this multiple times, but never
alone. Growing a little nervous, my gut
started to tell me something was wrong.
“Maybe you can…”
With a shaking finger he reached up
to touch my cheek and ran it down to my
neck where the rest of his hands grabbed
around my throat. Leaning in closer, I
turned my head to get away from his
disgusting breath.
“I gotta give that boy credit. I was
beginning to think he was a fairy. But
you…mmm… that’s impressive. Now
why don’t you tell me what he does so
well – that way I can show you better.”
I knew Shepard hated his father and
I understood why. He was revolting.
Before I could stop myself, I spit in his
face, which only served to anger him.
His constricting grip on my throat was
becoming unbearable. Just as I was
reaching up to pry his hands away from
my neck, his right fist made contact with
my cheek and nose. I heard the cartilage
and bones crunching like a soda can
beneath someone’s feet. Everything
happened so quickly, I barely remember
screaming and trying to get away.
Grabbing the front of my blouse,
another right hook connected with my
temple, knocking me down the flight of
steps. I felt my head bounce against the
concrete and the sting of the salt on the
walkway entering the fresh wounds. I
wanted to scream again, but the blood
choked out any noises leaving my throat.
The neighbors must have heard what
was happening, because I soon heard
sirens approaching. Then a circle of
people quickly formed around me,
shouting back and forth. I knew my body
was shutting down when everything
stopped hurting and the overwhelming
urge to sleep began. I held on long
enough for the ambulance to arrive.
Once the red lights began to flash against
my house and paramedics started tending
to me, I momentarily closed my eyes.
***
darkened world, unable to see or speak.
The pain was so unbearable that I
reached for something to squeeze with
my hands. I was connected to a type of
monitor because an alarm immediately
sounded. I heard feet shuffle in and
around me as the noise was silenced and
the voices conversed quietly among
themselves.
“I am Doctor Claira Thomas. You
have been severely injured. Can you tell
me who you are?”
Injured? What? I tried to speak
once again, but nothing came out besides
coughs and hacking noises.
“Do you need some water? Here, I
have a cup. Open your mouth and I will
put a straw to your lips, but drink
slowly.”
I opened my mouth slightly and felt
for the plastic. The sensation of cold
water hydrating my parched mouth was
like a gift from heaven. She pulled the
straw away before I was finished, but
promised more in a moment. I had to
take it easy.
“Can you tell me who you are