Tag Archives: wicked wednesday

Eliza stared at her ring. She remembered how she felt putting it on her finger for the first time. It looked alien, but everything it meant, meant everything to her.
Looking at her hand that covered Rafe’s, she never would have expected that… that after she saw him at the hotel with Oscar’s girl that they would ever talk again. That they would have a civilized conversation. That she would touch him again. But the lines of communication opened, and she realized oddly enough that she, they had come full circle.
When she first got together with Rafe, he was in an open relationship. He had agreed to be closed for their relationship, but clearly neither of them really wanted that. She had never expected that she would step outside of the relationship, but she had.
“Sandrine knew about you,” he said quietly, looking up from their hands to search her eyes. “Where I was most wrong, was not telling you what I was doing. That lack of communication was what caused everything I think.”
Eliza continued to look at her hand on top of his. At her ring, all the glints of light catching her eye.
“It was that I resented. I felt like you felt I had to compromise, and be everything you want because I made you be closed with me. I never thought I would want the same thing ever. To be with someone besides you.”
Rafe put his hand on top of hers.
“But I cannot imagine not being married to you Eliza, I cannot see a life before me that you are not part of.”
Eliza looked up at him, her eyes blurry from tears that wanted to fall down her face.
“I imagined you before you were mine,” she sniffled.
He rubbed her hand in pointed circles like he was zooming in on a target. His index finger caressed the diamond engagement ring he placed on her hand, making everything in her life involve him. It joined them without words. Because marriage was in the end only words, if you say the words and you are not committed it is just fraud.
She was never a fraud. If she had agreed to opening their relationship years ago she would have been, but now she was not. She was different, at least in a different place as a woman.
“The only thing is that if we open it up, we have to communicate. Communication is the main thing. That nothing is a secret. Because secrets close things up.” Rafe added as if he were giving a lecture in a hall.
Eliza nodded. Things had been closed around them for a long time. They were going to open everything up. Finally, and she believed they would be better on the other side of it all.
He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed the top of it, her knuckles and her ring.

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attraction ring by harry winston via harrywinston.com

Severine sat on the plane moments before passengers were allowed on. There was a small meeting, as there was a new flight attendant, Barbara. Eleanora, her former nemesis cum co-worker had given her pause to stop thinking about her own life events. Apparently, Eleanora had been conducting an affair with one of the married pilots. Severine had noticed they seemed especially close, but figured it was because Eleanora was an exceptional flirt. But she had sexted him and sent the picture accidentally to his wife–his wife’s mobile was one number different than his. His wife was close with his bosses, and Eleanora was immeadiately terminated.
Severine could not say she was unhappy to see her go, as she got up to walk over to Barbara and start welcoming passengers onboard. As each passenger went by, she was reminded that Oscar was not going to be on the flight. It made her sad. She had not been on an airplane without him since they met.
New York had been everything she expected it to be. Seeing their previous lovers was a good thing, it made them not think heavily about what they were together. They could just be, and not hurt each other. He had dinner with her the night after she had spent the night with Rafe, asked her how she was.
As much as she had tried to resist Rafe, she broke down as soon as she saw him in the bathroom while she was out to dinner with Oscar. She fell apart and even as she broke down, she tried to have a semblance of togetherness.
But it was not there.
The first time they had sex, she tried to be blasé…but the next time when Rafe tugged at her hair and choked her the way she liked, she could no longer resist him. She kissed everything of him her lips could touch. Her lips went everywhere on him, but love she would not declare. She no longer believed in love, everything she knew of it was so easily broken. Love was a myth like unicorns, or maybe it had existed once like dodo birds. But for her it was nonexistent. Sex was another thing, sex was very much alive and well.
Ubiquitous.
When every passenger was accounted for, she closed the door of the aircraft bound for Paris. She was very happy to be working the flight, and going home. New York was lovely. Her English was lovelier too, though heavily accented. But Paris was home. There was no place like home, sitting in her favorite café and lingering forever over a coffee.
Though she knew that if she closed her eyes, she would remember Oscar sitting beside her…or if she looked down in her cup, a tear might escape for Rafe.

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photo by f dot leonora

Silence was what she wanted. Polly looked out of the car window, she did not want to talk to Oscar.
Probably she had already said too much.
When Oscar told her that she was mean to him, she was afraid that he would connect two and two quickly. They had both started working at the same time, and she thought he was beautiful. But she was determined not to get involved in the messy business of seeing a co-worker. It was perfect because neither did Oscar, which she had to admit she liked. She had no idea who he was involved with, and there were no messy rumors about him.
She was married to her job for the most part, having amassed enough to start buying the art that she normally sold. It made her very happy. The De Lempicka on her lap was actually something she could afford, but now her eyes were on something else that she was saving toward. The photographer that had taken the photograph of Oscar in the morning’s newspaper was an up and coming her eyes were on as well. She had captured a side of him she had never seen, she never got close to him.
She remained silent, turned away from Oscar to avoid any more slips. When she did turn for a second, she saw he looked out of the window as well. Traffic prevented them from really having any view, Polly feigned sleep so that she would not have to talk to him. She closed her eyes, thought about her upcomong trip to Shanghai where she and Oscar would be going soon again. They had been in so many countries together since they had started working together. So many things, that if they were friendly it would have been nice to share. But they were not anything.
Her last trip to Shanghai was followed by returning to her penthouse, and the man she was seeing telling her her job took up too much of her time. He needed to be with someone who would have more time for him.
It pissed her off that in the twenty-first century, she would have a breakup over something like that. Women did not even need men anymore, the problem was she wanted one. She loved the feeling of a man touching her, being close to her. The hardness of his body versus the softness of hers, the feeling of being full and conquered when he was inside her.
Her thoughts drifted to the last time a man made her feel like that. The next thing she knew the scent of roses was replaced by clean linen, she started roughly. She half covered Oscar, her hair in her mouth damp from drool. She was almost hysterical as she pushed at his hard chest.
“I’m sorry!”
The silence was broken. He smiled, as he shrugged. Polly stared at him, as he looked out of the window again. She realized that this self-inflicted war she was having was trite. There was no reason why she was this way with him, when he really was never any particular way with her.
“You fell asleep but you had a death grip on the De Lempicka. I was never afraid that you would drop it!”
“This De Lempicka, I could buy if I wanted. But, well, I am not going to. This is a small one, but still lovely.”
“You know I really meant it Polly that you are amazing at what you do. I was wrong to insinuate anything else…”
Polly wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth. She was less embarassed about it than she would have been, since he was so blase about it. She saw the moisture in his suit, trailing where she had been lying against him.
“My entire life has been very competitive. But after you drool on someone, you kind of lose your edge, don’t you?”
Polly laughed at her own joke, and Oscar laughed too.
Polly held the De Lempicka and her principles tightly. She could be friendly with Oscar, male and female colleagues could be cordial.
When they arrived at their destination, Polly walked out of the car in her impossibly high stilettos. She herself was a little less impossible to access as she followed Oscar.

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detail of a tamara de lempicka by f dot leonora

Rafe settled across from Eliza, it was the first time in a really long time that he felt like they were together.
It was certainly the first time they had gone out in a long time since the accident.
He gazed at her hand wearing the ring he was always proud he had chosen without her. His tastes were far grander than hers. It was not obnoxious of him to say he was the architect of the woman before him, of the woman he was going to marry.
Eliza was more bohemian, and honestly seemed more like someone his sister would date. She recently confessed that she sometimes felt confined by the role of wife to be, so he tried to be more open.
He ran his hand through her hair, absently twisted a strand over and over again as he looked at the hair of the woman at the next table. Her hair was like Severine’s. Severine could be in New York, but she normally told him when she was coming to the city. Or when she was coming underneath him.
His heart still raced when he thought about her. The look on her face when he last saw her on Skype, let him know that he should leave her alone. She was in love with him, and he was not sure what he would be if he continued to contact her.
Eliza looked beautiful in the candlelight, in the dress he had bought her when he was away years ago. The color went well with her hair and eyes. He looked at her hands, and then up at the choker about her neck. There was no doubt that he loved her.
But he could not stop looking at the woman at the other table, her lovely form from behind leaning toward the man she was with. It was wrong, but if it was Severine, he wanted to hurt that man. The rage he felt that the man was sitting with her was irrational, but he felt it.
He felt a lot of things.
Severine, or her look-alike would not turn around for the love of God and he had to be careful with Eliza. She would know if his attention was divided. He reengaged with her, and then he paused. Pretended he was looking for the waiter.
It was Severine, not a look-alike. She noticed him instantly. The look on her face was wildly animalistic. Her walk to the bathroom was steady and self-assured to anyone who was looking, but Rafe knew she was not. He excused himself to go to the bathroom.
The path she took brimmed with her scent of tuberose. The bathroom was was dim, but the frosted glass door revealed which stall she had walked into in the unisex bathroom. Rafe put out his hand to prevent her from closing the door. Severine leaned against the wall, her foot on the toilet seat because there was barely enough room in the stall for the two of them.
“Severine,”
“S’il te plait…” she said, her French rampant when she was vulnerable.
“I knew it was you even from behind.” He cornered her.
“I’m with someone.” She pasted herself to the wall.
“I’m with Eliza,” he said, caressing her face and touching the long dark hair that he had been eyeing with memories. He brought a fistful of it to his nose to take in the scent. “I just wanted to say hi.”
“Touch me.”
Rafe wanted to touch her with every fiber of his being, but he could not have her scent on him. She hitched up her skirt. Closed her eyes,
“I hate myself for wanting you to touch me, but please…please.”
He caressed her face, the smoothness of her cheek, her full red mouth…he needed to touch her other mouth.
She was wet like she always was when he touched her. He caressed just her satiny labia, she almost slipped she was at such a precarious angle.
“Where are you staying?”
Severine dug deep in her clutch, and pulled out a card from the hotel where she was staying.

Eliza gasped.
When she looked up in the mirror and saw Oscar, she gasped.
When Rafe returned, she weakly excused herself to go to the bathroom. In the bathroom mirror, Oscar was behind her.
She was glad it was a unisex bathroom.
“You’re beautiful.”
He’d told her that when she was in the hospital, now when he was telling her it might have been true to him.
“Oscar.”
She wrapped her arms about him, her desire like fire ignited on the side of a matchbox. Restraining herself, she moved back from him.
“I am so happy to see you. I could not wait for tomorrow, but now is like bonus time.”
Oscar smiled at her.
“Yes.”
“Is that the woman you have been seeing in Paris?”
He nodded.
“She’s beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Eliza held the bathroom sink for support.
“I have to go, but tomorrow?” he questioned her.
She swallowed hard and gasped.
“Yes, have no doubt.”
They hovered over each other, the fire ignited again, then sputtered when he kissed her cheek.
Left her for now.
When she saw her face in the mirror, she was filled with doubts.
Her walk back to Rafe was unsteady, but his smile comforted her. Calmed her for the moment. Her emotions were as crooked as the books stacked by the fireplace in the restaurant beside Rafe.

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photo by f dot leonora

Even with Oscar’s hand in hers. Even though they were the only people in the forest. Even though they had made love against the only tree in the forest, Severine did not feel like she was with Oscar. Her past with men–not only Rafe–had disenchanted her.
Everyone needed her body like breath or blood in the beginning, and she loved sex so it was beautiful. Her libido was indefatigable. Sex always worked well, because that was how she interpreted love. Words meant little to her. If the song went it is in his kiss, for her it was in the way a man made love to her. She’d read that in The Mandarins by Simone de Beauvoir, Anne in the novel said you never really knew what a man was like until you were in bed with him.
With Severine it always felt like she made love in a forest, being the only two people in that time and space. But then at some point she and the man she was with got lost like Hansel and Gretel, with nothing at all to lead them back where they had started.
She held Oscar’s hand tightly presently as she thought about past lovers. She had the advantage in this moment, because she was the one doing the navigating in the forest. He followed her, because she was the one who had gotten them here. Most places they went she knew how to navigate better than he did, well at least the far-flung locations like this.
Except Shanghai. Oscar knew a lot about Shanghai, even though he did not tell her much about his time there. She did not ask him a lot, because previously she was unlike Anne in The Mandarins. Her behavior was more like Paula clinging to Henri in the beginning of the book, wanting to believe so much in everything. Even what was not there anymore.
But she was in control presently, of their movement through the forest and her emotions. Oscar’s warm hand in hers, if she put his fingers to her mouth she would taste herself. Yet still she did not feel close enough to him. Or maybe she was afraid to feel close to him…
If serendipity had not taken flight in her life like a grand papillon, if she had not met Oscar randomly in her favorite cafe…She had had no intention of suggesting or starting anything on the plane, because she was still in love with Rafe she had believed. She told Oscar that in the cafe.
He told her about the woman who had haunted him currently. All of their ghosts were put on the table next to their grande cafes, explored like tarot cards. Soft kisses followed only that day, tender and rough lovemaking later. Usually it was a little bit of both tender and rough when they made love. She liked rough because she needed to feel what was being done to her strongly.
They would be in New York tomorrow, and their future would be determined in a much more defined way. The ghosts they placed on the table in Paris were there and even though they had not talked about it, they would know what their future held after that.
Severine was not afraid this time of facing the truth in love. She pulled Oscar’s hand to her mouth, slowly sucked his fingers so she could taste herself on the platter of him.
“Can you taste yourself?”
His words jarred her, but she kissed his hand, dragged her tongue along a vein and nodded.
He stiffened. Severine knew she was no longer in control. The sun filled her eyes, and their tongues filled each other’s mouths.
On the flight going to New York, Severine wanted to flaunt that she was with Oscar, especially for Eleanora’s benefit. But she did not want to give her the leverage to taunt her with it. She was taunted enough with him there, looking at him made her think of forests and lovemaking.
And not getting lost.
They had made love in a plethora of destinations, because of her job as a flight attendant. She ached to slip into the bathroom like they did in the past on prior flights. It was always his impetus. Him looking restless in his seat, tie undone and his hands moving over the wave of his shirt where the buttons were. She went along willingly, staggering her arrival into the tiny bathroom that made peeing a nightmare but created a delicious tightness for making love. Her ass on the sink, and her legs pistoning about him.
Presently she just ran through her mental picture book of them..
What was them?
She walked down the aisle by Oscar, and sudden turbulence and a little extra landed her on his lap. He was hard. Eleanora stared at her, but for a moment she could not resist looking in his eyes and thinking about their future.
“I’m sorry!” she announced for the entire first class.
He caressed her ass just barely.
“No problem.”
With a slight long caress with her backside over his thighs, she imagined giving a lap dance. She felt him get that much harder, and she sashayed away. Not looking back at him, but thinking about tomorrow in New York, and of ghosts.

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photo of the ouija board by norman rockwell taken by f dot leonora

Not quite sure how they got there, but the woman grabbed my trunk so I noticed her right away. Her long dark hair covered everything but her broad smile, which even I had difficulty being immune to. The man with her had no chance.
It did not look like he wanted a chance.
I wanted to know what they were saying but they spoke in whispers, her hair covered their mouths so I could not even read their lips.
I am huge–almost kissing the clouds—so visually they were a lot smaller than me. But they were not small, what was going on between them was not small at all. When she swung her hair away from their faces, their kiss was deep. His hand grabbed the hair she flung away, pulling her closer to him. She was lured willingly, and she grabbed my trunk again to lure him to her.
To me.
Maybe she wanted me to be part of it. This had not happened in a long time. When there were more of us, it was a frequent occurrence. Sometimes it was like an orgy out here, especially at night. But now it was just me–and now them. It looked like I was going to be part of it, which excited and intimidated me at the same time.
She pasted her back against my trunk, I am very hard obviously but she did not seem daunted. Pressing herself against me again and again, in her response to him pressing against her. The stimulation was almost too much for me, but I was frozen in place as I had been for all my life.
He kissed her until she turned her mouth, ragged and gasping for breath. He held her face, and kissed her again until he was breathless.
Together they panted, looking at each other with wide smiles. His fingers caressed the curves and the opening of her lips, his finger entering her mouth. She closed her eyes, held his finger fast and pounded her palms against my trunk like a fierce drum.
He removed his finger slowly, and her lips followed it for a bit. They pressed against each other again, with the famine I had seen before when I was not alone here. People used to flock here for trysts, and we were more than obliging. We contained them, their secrets and let them do what they wanted. We were the ultimate voyeurs.
Now I was alone, but this couple found me. They made me alive again with their hungry bodies. With their hungry emotion. It was hard for me to date their relationship, but the man mirrored the kind of longing I had felt for some time now. As if instead of filling her, she was filling him. She looked felicitous in that not so secret way women do when they are completely fulfilled.
Their frenzy could not be hidden, their eyes darted about so that I knew they liked the being out in the open but away from prying eyes. Well except mine, as they pressed against my trunk. I could not see the parts that the others so easily revealed in the past, but the arrangement of their bodies made it clear they were doing it.
The woman began pounding my trunk harder, a litany of exclamations that was not the usual language. I had not heard this language before. I have been in the same place all my life, so I only knew the one language they emitted when they came here in couples or more.
The man’s litany was completely familiar to me, before it became guttural. They reached the height of their pleasure and then stopped.
I stopped too.
They were in a rush. Since they had not even taken off their clothes, her palms left my trunk as she raced him to button up and zip. It was a draw, as he took her hand and kissed it. Then he kissed her mouth. It was not a goodbye kiss I suspected.
For her.
But for me, I would be left alone. The last tree in this vast forest with only memories of the other trees and lovers who had sought us. I watched them until they were dots and then…gone…

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photo by f dot leonora

Eliza rubbed the piece of raw marinated steak between her hands. Rubbing the steak was like masturbating. The constant rubbing shook her breasts, her nipples jumped against the silk of her slip, which made her so tight between her legs she would have stopped to touch herself if she had not been touching raw meat.

Everything was masturbation fodder for her these days. Everything made her want to rub herself.

She had recovered from the car accident, but had not recovered her sex life. Cooking made her happy, she did a lot of things now to make to make herself happy.

She was living with Rafe again, and they were devoted to each other as they had been before, but they had not made love. Their mutual dabbling outside their relationship was something they had to consider. Neither of them was happy about what had happened, but they had planned to make a life together and that was not something they planned on breaking.

She felt like she had felt when she was in Shanghai, and her lust for Oscar had driven her barefoot in a cab to his hotel to get to him.

Oscar.

Her thoughts drifted to thoughts of Oscar which made her cry as if she had been chopping onions. She rubbed the steak again, the spices spread over her palms, wrists and inside her fingernails. It was the spices there that touched the tips of her fingers that made her entire body tingle. She quickly washed her hands which were remained redolent of sage, that wafted up her nose when she grabbed her breast and rubbed her nipple with her index finger. Her hand slid down over and under her slip, and she was just about to ease the tightness between her legs…

“What are you doing?”

Eliza dropped her hand to her thigh, turning back to Rafe sheepishly.

When she turned away from him, she felt him move behind her. He had not been that close to her in such a long time, his finger on her was like striking a match against its box.

His hand was on her breast, but it did not smell of sage. He smelled of sandalwood and bergamot. She leaned against him, unsure if it was of her own volition or simply for the depth of her lust. Her hand was on the top of her thigh, his hand covered hers.

“I missed you…”

He put his hand about her neck, and she gasped even though he was nowhere near choking her. She tilted her head so that he could kiss her neck.

“I missed you,” she admitted shyly as if she felt she was being unfaithful, when she was with the man she was engaged to.

Rafe kissed her neck, cheek, temple and just the very corner of her mouth, his hand still on her breast. Her slip fell down about her ankles, and she did not step out of it but spread her legs as far as it would allow her. She leaned into him even more, she wanted it from behind. There was no intimacy lacking even though they were not facing each other. The sound of his zipper made her so tight, she closed her eyes trying to bare it.

He put his hands on her shoulders after he kissed both of them, and entered her. His style was always animal, he made her feel like he was marking her. This time especially he was, he really was. His thrusts pressed her against the sink and she gripped the steak in response, tenderizing it with her fists.

Then Rafe was tender, kissing every inch of her body. Eliza quivered with the sensation of his lips, wishing she was a writer because she was sure there was a clever metaphor here. Rafe inside her while she fondled a steak.

Steak would now be legitimate masturbation fodder for her..

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photo via Google Images