Category Archives: meme

Twisted

Eliza went over to Oscar’s apartment, he sat on his couch with just a pair of pants and a t-shirt. Barefoot, he looked toward her walking into the apartment with a slight lift of his head.

“Come in the kitchen with me…” she cajoled.

They had always liked to cook together. Eliza got all of the things to make a ragu that he really liked so that he would only have to cut things up if he was not in the mood for more.

Ever since Cleo went to Paris, he had been sullen and unresponsive. Eliza had not suspected that he had been that in love with Cleo—she thought he was more invested in Sally if anyone. Especially since she knew that Sally was still around smelling after him…

Oscar cut an onion beside her, and his eyes did not tear up. Eliza’s face streamed with tears, between the onions and being so close to Oscar and not knowing what to do…

His shoulder grazed hers, and she burned from head to toe from the touch of him but she continued to cry and cut her onions. Then he grazed her again and she knew it was not an accident, but she continued to cut the onion like it was a meditation.

“Thank you,” Oscar said quietly, and she still did not say a thing because she did not know what she should say. She was there for him because she cared for him, but even if she cared for him…she was still stuck on what she should say to him.

“You know, I keep falling for the wrong women,” he said under his breath.

“I am not Cleo!” she snapped, and they looked at each other at the same time. She felt the steam release from her that she did not even know was there.

She was not Cleo, she did not understand what he liked about Cleo anyway. At that moment, when he said that, she became so enraged. Jealousy burst around her like balloons, and she looked at him helplessly.

Oscar stopped cutting the onion and held her. The scent of onion and tears filled her mouth.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Remembrance

Mathilde sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed. The tears had cooled on her face, because she had finally stopped crying. She had even cried when they made love, which was the way that Cadmus tried to say sorry to her—with his body.

Had she ever really fooled anyone at that point, as many times as she had transformed herself? She could see her face in the mirror, and she looked far removed from herself, but if someone really knew her they would know her body and how could she have supposed that he would not have remembered her body?
She assumed that he had not remembered her.

“I remembered you after, I remembered not being with you and missing the way that you were always there for me, but that I was not ready for it. By the time I met Cleo I was better, but not completely–she can tell you about that,” he said, pulling her close to him after they made love. After he had confronted her, and let her know that she was not hiding anything from him.

No matter how much she had run away from her life, she had not even run even half away from anything because she brought her same issues with her. As Cadmus kissed the slope of her neck, she could feel he wanted her again, and she could not say no. For him to be after her was so different than before—when she was always so desperate for him. He moved against her backside, and she moved against him in return. Their gnawing hunger for each other rampant…

More Masturbation Monday here:

Cougar

Cleo was considered a cougar in her circles, Cadmus was younger than her but nothing that would make her a cougar by any means. If anything he was the one that was more sophisticated than she was.

Relationship wise.

Her job was just as substantial as his and she made a decent amount of money, but as far as the relationship went he was the one that showed her things. She was a little older, but he made her feel delicate and vulnerable. He entered her body with so many different things that required her trust and patience, and always made her call out his name loudly because she wasn’t ready for the pleasure that he provided her. He made her look in his eyes when she rode his fist, and there was nothing that had ever been more intimate than that to her.

But to have him walk out of her hotel room knowing she was livid, and not touch her. Just followed her around the room trying to make eye contact—he wanted to know that she was okay, but she was not going to give him her eyes. She did not want him to see what she was feeling, he was not privileged to get to see her anymore.

“Please go,” she had said, the heat of him on her back from him following her about the room like paparazzi. She threw up her hands like he was an offensive flash. She heard the door close, and the tears started in her throat. Fearful she would choke to death, she threw herself across the bed as if to eject the tears and she screamed silently.

He was gone, even if she had asked him to go…he was gone and she was not sure that this time he would come back. She had never been afraid to tell him to go before because she knew that he would come back. But this time, with Mathilde, her eyes tightened as she thought about the other woman. With Mathilde, she was not sure he was going to come back this time.

She could not close her mouth…

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Engulfed

Cadmus unzipped the back of her dress, and his hand lingered at the small of her back. Mathilde felt his hand there like a wanted weight and it soothed her. He slipped the dress down over her shoulders.

“What did you say to her, what happened?” she asked him because she needed to know. He had been in Cleo’s hotel room, and she needed to know what he had said to her.

What had happened in her room.

“Cleo is mad at me, she is mad at me what else is new?” Cadmus sighed, and pulled her dress down more roughly over her shoulders.

Mathilde shrugged roughly, matching his rough pulling down of her dress.

“How long were you with her? As a couple?”

He caressed his shoulders, and kissed her neck.

“On and off for several years…I just started sleeping with her again, but then I saw you…” He caressed the small of her back, as she stepped out of the dress.

“I have a question for you,” he said.

Mathilde stiffened.

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me?”

His hand lingered over her hip, and she bit her lip.

“What?” she repeated, a bit indignant this time.

He spun her around like a carousel, and she looked at him. His face was so close to hers, it looked like a caricature.

“Do you think I don’t remember your body? Do you think that all men are such dogs that they do not remember? I remember this mole Zara, I remember…”

Mathilde looked at him with wide eyes.

“Do you want a medal for remembering?” she said, naked and indignant. “I remember a lot too…”

“I know,” he said, his hand on both of her hips and the way he looked at her made her burn with desire and she hated him for that. Why did he always do that? Her burning in this hotel room, and Cleo burning in another? “I remember I did not treat you the best Zara…I remember…I am going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you…”
He bent before her and kissed her just where she was burning, and she was engulfed.

More Masturbation Monday here:

Lockdown

Cleo could not keep her eyes off of Mathilde. Usually it was Cadmus that had her undivided attention — if he was in the room, she could not notice anything else but Mathilde was riveting. She could see why he wanted her, and it made her hurt all the more. She was going to need an emotional lockdown in the hotel room after this, so she could process her thoughts.

For now, she sat at the table watching the other woman and sipping her wine. Cadmus of course had selected something amazing for them to drink.

When she got to the bar, they were fucking as much as two people can fuck without actually fucking in public. They kept touching around each other like their hands were butterflies, and looking at each other awed expressions like they could not believe that the other person was with them. When she walked up to them they, both looked at her with dazed expressions like she was an unexpected cloud on a sunny day.

Mathilde was polite to her, but that was another thing about her. She was cosmopolitan and elegant, but there was a lot of reserve. Cleo caught herself when she almost touched her hand, while she was talking but she did not think that that was something that she should do. Cadmus barely looked at her, and when he did it was fleeting.

It was after when he went to her hotel room, where she had planned her lockdown that he looked at her. She looked at him confused because she was not sure why he was there.

“Where is Mathilde?” she asked, after she let him in and wrapped her arms about herself. She could feel the heat of his body, and saw him follow her out of the corner of her eye in the mirror.

“In our hotel room Cleo, you’ve seen us — I wanted you to see that this was not a fling.”

Cleo turned and looked at him.

“I came and I saw Cad–ironic no?”

He looked at her with his lips in a downward curve.

“Cleo…”

“I don’t need your words Cad, I don’t need your words!”

She looked at him with tears in her eyes, and her emotional lockdown began even though she was not alone.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Foreign Places

Cadmus out of bed was even more intoxicating than he was in bed. She had memorized his scent after all of these years, sitting close beside him at the bar where he had picked her up.

Again.

Returning to the scene of the crime, even the jaded bartender was moved because it was obvious that something was between them. She touched his face as if she was fussing with him—but there was nothing to fuss with. He did the same to her, they could not stop fussing with their air, their auras.

He raised his glass of wine to her lips, and the graze of the glass against her lips was electric. But before she could sip, he pulled the glass away.

Mathilde smiled, but her smile was wan. It was hard to feel all of this again for him. And remember everything she had thought she had risen above.

There was no rising above any of it.

He placed his hand on her knee, and she fussed with nothing. Tugging at his tie, the skin of his throat warm and she was submerged in her thoughts of what was this?

He placed his glass to her lips again, and the electricity returned at her lips between her legs. Mathilde for the first time would not run, she was in Paris with this man and she was not going to run away.

A woman walked into the bar, and up to the both of them. Cadmus looked cautious.

Cleo, this was the woman he had told her about that was in New York.

New York was foreign to Mathilde now, the only thing she knew was Cadmus beside her and this woman who stood beside them.

More Masturbation Monday here:

Hot Mess

What was it about the love of, or the lack of love from a man that turned the strongest woman into a hot mess?

Cleo’s brain was on fire since Cadmus told her he wanted to be back with his long abandoned ex.

Did you treat her like you treated me? she texted like a slur against his character. She saw the bubbles on her phone like an effervescent drink rising to the surface as he replied to her.

I never abandoned you Cleo, I NEVER abandoned you! he texted back in a stream of defensiveness. And she had to admit that he had never abandoned her in the sense he had always been there for her even when they were not together. He was with her now as he was with another woman and she threw her phone to the side. Lying on her side in the Parisian hotel that was the one he was staying at—he paid for it, he wanted her to meet Mathilde.

Her name was Mathilde, and he showed her a picture he snuck of her while she was on her side like she was now. Her face was covered with her long, dark hair and you could not really see her face but everything else indicated that she was gorgeous and that she had Cadmus. The photo he took was obviously after an intimate moment.

Isn’t she going to mind? Isn’t she going to wonder why she has to meet me? she texted, biting her lower lip.

You are my best friend…he reply texted.

Is that what they call it these days?

They had had sex a couple of times in the last few months, and now she was just a friend? Cleo flung her phone across the room, and cried. She was a fetal-positioned mess on the edge of the bed…

…and at the edge of her sanity.

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Naked and Shivering

Naked and shivering, the sweat from both of their bodies cooled on hers after…Mathilde pulled her hair to one side, it was stuck to her face and below her shoulder. She looked at him, and then around at his hotel room.

That was another thing about him, she never expected that he would not rise to the top of his field. He was always very focused, and that additionally made her feel silly around him because she was going to school too but she was much more into the fun part of the college experience.

He even told her that she was not serious, like she was a bit of fluff.

But he had been serious about her in the moments past. He wanted her on top because he wanted to see her body move, and he touched every part that he wanted to see…

…move.

He made her feel like a goddess—like he never had when she was younger. His hands on her breasts, her hips and thighs. She moved so that she would drive him mad because she was very good at sex and she knew how to do that.

He looked wrecked beneath her, and it made her smile. She wished that she could be evolved and have sex with him and let him go. But everything old was brought up now that they had renewed their intimacy.

Mathilde turned on her side, and she felt him follow her as she did. Her smile tasted like tears because she did not know what she wanted.

Almost sounding like he was talking to himself, Cadmus said,

“I used to be in love with a girl you remind me of…”

“Tell me about her?” she said hoping she did not sound too interested. She had been playing it so cool all along.

“She was beautiful, and I wasted it all.”

Her bottom lip saltier with the tears now, Mathilde closed her eyes.

More Masturbation Monday here:

image via House of Eclipse

Like Something From The Twenties

Cadmus could not keep his eyes off of her…

She reminded him so much of Fianna, that he was not able to see anything but Fianna so many years ago.

He saw her smiling at him in that adoring way that she did.

He felt her arms and legs and hair about him and the way that she would wrap herself about him.

He remembered tensing at her touch—he was not ready to be loved like that. Even now after therapy, and after Cleo he was not sure he was ready.

There was a 1920s photo above the bar, Cadmus let his eyes linger there at its reflection of the Fianna lookalike. Her slender neck was not unlike the neck of the photo of the woman above the bar.

“Do you want another drink?” he asked, and he knew she didn’t even before she answered.

She shook her head.

He placed his hand on her knee, and she looked down at his hand.

“What do you really want to ask me if I want?” she said looking into his eyes, and he swallowed roughly.

He circled his finger around her thigh like he was a lost navigator. They leaned in closer together, as his finger wandered on her thigh. He could hear their breath mingle. It was so intimate, like he never even allowed himself to be with Fianna.

Fianna had wanted this so much—his attention and closeness. It was so hard for him to give it to her then, but it was so easy for him to give it to this stranger.

He looked up at the photo again to distract himself.

“I am waiting for your answer,” she said.

He looked into her eyes, and thought out his answer. Then looked back down at her thigh. This moment felt like something from the Twenties that he wanted to preserve. That intimacy that did not have to escalate like in modern times.

But he wanted her now—

More Masturbation Monday here, more Wicked Wednesday here:

Blue

Eliza was startled when she saw Cleo in her office. She was walking by the other woman’s office when she saw Cleo in a blue dress, looking deeper blue than the deep blue dress she was wearing.

“Cleo?” Eliza walked in, and Cleo wiped her face and nose with the back of her hand. It was clear that she wanted to hide her private moment, but it was not private anymore. “Are you okay?”

Cleo shook her head.

“Well I am a mess, so obviously not! If I told you yes you would know that is not true.” Cleo sniffed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Eliza…” Cleo looked at Eliza, and swallowed.

“Yes?”

“You are my friend as well as Oscar’s, but if I tell you this…” Cleo looked at her and her eyes shimmered with tears about to spill. “If I tell you this can it be between us?”

“I would never come between you and Oscar, that is not my business.”

“No,” Cleo shook her head. “I know you would not. My ex…”

Eliza froze, did Cleo know she knew about her ex? Composing herself, she nodded.

“He came back into my life, and he — we — are codependent to put it mildly. He has never left my life, and when he came back…” Eliza watched her like a train wreck, Cleo continued. “He made it very confusing for me. He wanted to get back together, I did not know what I wanted. I’ve been torn, and he went to Paris on business and met a woman who reminded him of his ex, a woman he dated years ago and treated badly. He wants penance with this woman, they have been together and he wants to see where things go…”

Cleo burst into tears, and Eliza moved to close the door behind her.

“He always does this to me Eliza, when am I going to learn to stay away. I can’t!”

Eliza drew Cleo close to her, tears like sweat covered her, and Eliza remembered what it was like to be jealous of another woman.

“Oscar and I have an open relationship,” Cleo started. “But I wanted to know if Cadmus wanted to be with just me…”

“Shhhhh,” Eliza soothed, holding a trembling Cleo to her chest like she was sure she would one day have to hold her own daughter because of heartbreak…

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picasso via wikipedia