Sunday, March 10, 2013
Touch Of My Hand
Rhiannon sighed, closing her laptop.
Her inspiration for story writing had left her back in the city and clearly it wasn’t coming back anytime soon. She glanced out the window. She had decided to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, retreating to her father’s log cabin high in the mountains, hoping that the mountain air and change of view would help inspire her to write something great.
Instead all it seemed to do is make her want to go hiking, build a warm fire and chill out with a bottle of wine. Her story had remained untouched.
She grabbed her glass and made her way over to the sofa that sat in front of the fireplace. She pressed the glass to her lips, feeling the wine trickle over her tongue, the scent of the crushed grapes flooding her nostrils.
The fire crackled and popped, the flames licking the wooden logs. The dance of the orange and yellow flames were almost hypnotising.
Rhiannon took a sip from her glass, her blue-green eyes watching the fireplace. All she wanted was a good idea. Something that had never been done before. Something fresh and amazing that would have her publishing house weeping for joy.
Finishing off her glass of wine, Rhiannon stood up. Her bare feet pattered lightly over the hardwood floors as she returned to the kitchen.
Glancing around, Rhiannon studied the décor. Her father wasn’t exactly known for his decorating tastes. There were animal heads on the walls and a bear skin rug in front of the fireplace. Rhiannon studied the deer head near the dining room table. It looked fake. Rhiannon certainly hoped it was fake.
She made her way back over to the couch. The rug felt good beneath her bare feet.
Glancing out the window, Rhiannon smiled. It had just started to snow.
Her right eyebrow arched as her eyes lit up. She unbuttoned her jeans, sliding the denim over her hips and down her creamy white thighs. She removed her white sweater and tank top, revealing her white lace bra, barely containing her ample cleavage.
She ran her hand over her taut stomach, feeling her bellyring dangle and dance beneath her palm. She could feel her lace panties growing damp as her mind imagined it was his hand touching her, feeling her skin beneath his finger tips.
Her hand grazed the top of her panties as her fingers slipped below the waistband. Her skin was smooth and hot to touch.
Slowly and sensually, she removed her bra and panties. Standing naked before the flickering flames of the fire, Rhiannon let her hands roam over her body. Cupping her breasts, she felt her nipples respond, perking up until they were as hard as diamonds.
Her hands traced down her body, feeling the curve of her hip. Her fingers followed the lines of her butterfly tattoo.
The fire crackled causing her to jump. Rhiannon giggled to herself before taking a seat on the rug. The fur tickled her flesh, which was aching with desire.
Lightly her hands caressed her body. Soft, feathery touches across her nipples, teasing them further, tweaking them in between her fingers, pulling them until they were taut.
She began to wish that he was here with her, rolling her around on the bear skin rug, making passionate love to her the way he use to.
She wished she could feel his breath on her face as he dusted kisses along her forehead and down her nose. She wished she could feel his hands running over her body, cupping her breasts, rubbing her nipples. She wished she could feel his lips enclosing around them, sucking them. She wished she could feel his tongue trailing down in between her ample chest, following an invisible line that would circle around her bellybutton before following the curve of her hip and trailing down over her sweet sex until he began tickling her clitoris as two of his fingers probed her body.
Her own hand snaked down her body and began teasing her already throbbing clit. Her fingers rubbed and explored her body while her mind drifted back to the last night she had spent with him. He had held her tight while his quivering member slid into her, filling her, pleasing her.
She loved the feeling of him atop her. She loved the pressure of his chest pressed against hers. She loved when, midway through their lovemaking, he would flip her over and take her from behind.
She loved the feeling of his body slamming into hers. Just the memory of it was enough to cause her body to shake with anticipation as juices seeped down her thighs.
She pinched her own nipple, arching her back as she plunged two fingers deep inside her, feeling how hot and wet she was. Rhiannon was surprised over how her body responded to him. A million miles from him and he was still playing her body like a harp.
Her fingers manipulated her body, rubbing over her clitoris as they withdrew before sliding back inside her and pressing against her G-spot.
A fire spread through her lower abdomen. She could feel an orgasm building deep within her. Her fingers brushed lightly over her clit as her hand moved more rapidly.
Rhiannon’s breathing became quicker, more shallow, as she divulged to her body’s want and desire. Her hand moved at a fevered pace and with the last motion of pressing against her G-spot, she came hard.
Panting, she let her hand fall over her thigh. Every nerve was alive, like it was on fire. She rolled over, the fur from the rug teased her nipples.
Her blonde hair fell across her eyes as she pulled herself to her feet.
She was a little shaky on her feet as she made her way over to the dining room table. Still naked she sat down, reaching for another bottle of wine. Popping the cork, Rhiannon smiled as she put the bottle to her lips. Reaching across the table, Rhiannon grabbed her laptop as a new, fresh and amazing idea formed in her mind.