You Want To Make A Memory – Write Naked Part 5

Another segment in my novel I started working on for NaNoWriMo. It has not been edited in any form yet, just free writing. If you want to know some back story, links are provided for previous sections. [NOTE: I had changed James’ name to Travis for the novel, but I didn’t like it, so changed it back to James – SO JAMES is Travis (parts 1-4) and if I post anymore excerpts, it is James, as he has always been in my mind. Sorry for the confusion – posted it then realized.] I have written several posts on here about Lyla, as she has been in my head for many years, since college creative writing classes. Any feedback provided would be great! Oh and if you’re interested, here’s how Lyla and James met. 🙂 

Part 1                      Part 2                      Part 3                       Part 4

After finding a nice fairly secluded spot to stop and smoke a joint, they ended up at a little local seafood place not far from there that had a nice deck outside, with a great view west of the sunset that would be coming soon. She ordered a hurricane – the house specialty. He ordered a vodka tonic, then changed his mind and got a hurricane with her.

Their drinks came, and she took a little sip, “Oh yeah, that’s some good shit, now,” she smiled. Immediately swishing the cherry around in the liquor floating on top, she took the cherry out of her drink and ate it, smiling as she did so.

He laughed at her, taking a drink of his own, and commented “Damn, there’s a tad bit of booze in that.”

“I know. I need a little pain relief,” she responded. “Though I love my new tattoo! You know we have an excellent seat for the sunset, did you notice? And I know we’ll still be here when the sun goes down, making a point of it.”

“Are we now,” he said. “Lyla, you always amuse me, and make me bust a gut often. You definitely got quite a way about you, woman. And yeah, I really like your tattoo.” He looked at her, as she was perusing the menu. “What ‘cha hungry for?”

“Not sure, it all looks good,” she announced, “so many things look yummy. What looks good to you? You want to split a couple things?”

He laughed, “What looks good to me? Lyla quit asking such loaded questions!” he continued to be amused. “Baby, it all looks good to me!” he assured her.

She just shook her head and laughed. They decided to get a couple of seafood gumbos, and split an appetizer platter with grilled shrimp stuffed with cheese and jalapenos, coconut fried shrimp, crab fingers, and some other assorted seafood goodies for them to enjoy with their drinks. After ordering, and handing the waitress their menus, he looked at her. She was gazing out at the ocean and she looked happy, peaceful, even genuinely at ease. He was glad about that. He didn’t have any hang ups about being with her, except that she’s separated, meaning she’s married to some other man. He also knows her heart is still vested in her marriage, though he has noticed she is growing weary fighting for something she is beginning to think may not happen.

She flirts with him a little, but never anything that would cross a line, and actually most of it is pretty innocent, meaning she isn’t even aware she’s doing anything that could be mistaken for the wrong idea. He is fully aware of where her heart is, and it is not with him. At least not all of it. But it’s not all with her husband either, since he decided to leave her. She is also NOT wearing her wedding ring.  Nor was she talking about her husband or their problems.

He had told her once that if she and her husband were ever over and she was free and he was free, then they would definitely have some unfinished business to attend to. She had agreed. But she wasn’t free, at least not yet.

He knew what he wanted – he wanted all of her. He wanted her to want to be with him and only him. He knew this was a tall order and possibly a pipe dream, as this might never happen. They may be destined to be friends forever, or at least as long as he allowed it. Being her friend was quite painful at times, though she was a damn good one. The pain was one of the reasons sometimes he dropped out of contact for months, even a year or so at a time.

He couldn’t ask for a better friend and she seemed to truly believe in him, too – encouraging him to always be the best he can and encouraging him to find someone special to share his life with. That always sucked, because what he really wanted to say is that there is nobody he would rather be with than her. She made it clear that she wanted him to be happy, and wanted him to have a good life – was sorry that life had dealt him the hand it had at times. BUT still, being her friend could be incredibly painful for him. But he was willing to take what she could offer, if it meant having her in his life in some way shape form or fashion. For now, he didn’t care and wondered if he ever would.

She had a cancer scare a year or so back, and he was scared to death. He called to check on her and left her a voice message. He knew his voice cracked during the message, but he didn’t care. It was genuine feeling he was displaying for her the only way he could at the time. (James had no idea Lyla still had the voice message on her phone – she couldn’t bring herself to delete it. She could hear the genuine concern and love in his voice and though she was married, she felt like it was okay to keep a simple innocent voice message from someone who she knew genuinely cared for her.) He couldn’t go visit her, and it didn’t seem appropriate to send anything, so he did what he could. He knew at the time she couldn’t talk, so he waited to hear back from her, and was so glad when she texted him that she did not have cancer. He thanked God with every ounce of his being for that one. He hoped he never lived long enough to have to say a final goodbye to her and then live on with her memory.

The food came and they were ravenous. They laughed and shared different items from the sampler platter, comparing notes on what they liked best and least. They ordered another drink, and agreed the gumbo was some of the best they had ever tasted, and between the two of them they had tasted plenty. They talked and laughed and sang with the music. Jesse had sent her a couple of nasty texts about the latest stick in their spokes causing another impasse. She had decided she was ignoring him tonight. He had hurt and degraded her enough with the way he treated her, the way he thought about her – as if he didn’t really know her.

The music was great, lots of rock, blues, and old stuff. Eric Clapton was one of the owner’s favorites, which worked great for Lyla and James, because they loved Clapton’s music too. The song “Old Love” started to play. He looked right at her and said, “Do you know how many times I have had you in my head? I never hear this song without thinking of you.” She just looked at him, not really knowing what to say all of a sudden. “I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable for me to tell you that,” he added.

Lyla thought about it for a moment, “No, you have shared many things with me over the years. I’ve said it before, I am just surprised that I never knew how you felt back then,” she responded.

“Lyla you really have no idea,” he was starting to catch a little buzz, and was wondering if he should finally tell her the part she didn’t know. She looked at him and started singing and swaying to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s “Suite Judy Blue Eyes” – he loved watching her move, sway, dance, walk, whatever. It turned him on, she had a sexy way of moving her body. Though she seemed to have no idea how sensual she was, she certainly had confidence and a swagger or sway that makes a man want to go down on his knees and beg for mercy.

It amazed him that she didn’t see it. And it wasn’t just idle chit chat, she really didn’t see it, didn’t realize it, or didn’t believe it; he knew this by how she handled herself. He actually loved that about her, found that trait very intoxicating, and genuine. There was so much about her he loved, even though he didn’t know her near as well as he’d like. As an adult, she was very different, while still having the same old-soul qualities and rambunctious rebellious take no shit attitude. She still loved music and they shared other similar tastes in many things. She was smart as hell. She still had that wonderful sense of humor and compassionate spirit. She was definitely adventurous and spontaneous. He was drawn to her sarcasm and black comedic side, as well as her daughter of a sailor’s raunchy language sometimes. She was complicated in all her aspects. God, why did he love her so much, he thought. He didn’t stand a chance.

With Lyla singing to Fleetwood Mac’s  “World Turning,” James asked if she was ready for another drink, she nodded. James motioned to the waitress to bring another round, as Lyla continued to sway and sing. This round was for the sunset. It was coming within the next thirty minutes or so. They were both excited. There’s nothing much more enjoyable than leisurely sitting and watching the sun sink into the ocean at the end of the day. There’s something so cosmic and serene about it.

Their next round came and the sun had already started to sink towards the ocean. The colors were starting to fill the sky, first looking a bit like cotton candy. Then as the sun got lower – the oranges, reds, coppers. It was so stunningly beautiful, they both barely said a word, just basking in this wonderful moment of connectedness with nature, the universe, the world, and each other. They could hear the music, the birds, the wind, and the sun hitting the ocean as it began to dip into its nighttime home. The smell of the ocean and the breeze and the various other scents flitting in here and there was invigorating. They watched as the sun rather quickly made its way down until it gently and gracefully slid into the Gulf of Mexico. And then poof, it was gone. It was almost magical and majestic in a sense.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve watched the sun set, especially over the water. What a sensory experience – that was amazing,” she almost whispered, “a spiritual experience for sure.” “I’m enthralled and maybe speechless – imagine that.”

“Imagine that . . . girl, that was something, damn near religious,” he commented. “I’ve seen a lot of sunsets in a lot of places, but that was almost surreal.” He was thinking that he was not surprised since this was the first sunset they had seen together in decades. “The colors were amazing!”

“Yeah, all my favorites,” she wistfully noted, he could hear her smile.  Now it was dark, except for the decorative lighting and candles on the deck and the continued full moon. Damn she looked good in the moonlight. Lyla was thinking the same thing about James.

[Part 6 – Just Talking]


A New Year of Romantic Musings


Here’s to the new year!! May it be full of beautiful moments, romantic interludes, and inspiring events!!

Imagining what might’ve been – Write Naked Part 4

Next installment of my NaNoWriMo 🙂

Part 1                      Part 2                      Part 3

“Damn, kept you up most of the night, after you got me drunk, had us a good meal and now a nice little beach walk to start, or finish the day, however we see fit,” she was smiling. “When’s the last time you had a weekend like this?” she asked.

“Darlin’, I’ve never had a weekend like this,” he mocked her.

“Whatever, smart ass,” she responded.

“Uh, I was being serious,” he shot back.

She ran towards the ocean tide and as soon as her feet got wet, she kicked the tide towards him, attempting to get him wet, laughing as loud as she could. God, he loved to hear her laugh. She kept trying to splash him, until finally he walked over to her and picked her up and carried her three feet back in. Upon letting her down, she asked, “Was that necessary, Travis?” still laughing.

“I’m afraid so, not sure what to expect from you, young lady!” he laughed at her back.

“It’s beautiful here, huh,” she asked him.

“Yes, it is, Lyla, very much so.”

They continued to walk on for about twenty minutes, not really saying much, just feeling each other’s presence, before turning around to head back to the car. As they got closer, she asked him, “I’m really tired – need a few hours of sleep. That okay with you?”

“Sure, baby. What you got in mind?” he asked back.

“I’ve got a little money stashed for this little trip, so I’d like us to get a room – that way we have some air-conditioning. I’m too damn old to be sleeping on the beach or in my car anymore,” she said. “That work for you?” she asked.

“Lyla, I am fine with us getting a room on two conditions,” he teased. “Number One – you have to let me pay. And Number Two – you have to promise to take advantage of me.” He was laughing at her now.

She looked at him and smiled that damn soul-melting smile of hers and started to giggle. “You, my friend, are a mess, and I’m not sure I can live with your conditions.”

“Take it or leave it,” he said. Though he was laughing, he meant it, and she could tell.

“I didn’t invite you so you could pay for stuff,” she continued, “I invited you because we have fun together.”

“I’m aware of that, Lyla. I’m offering and quite frankly, if truth be told Lyla Rochelle, I am expecting you to let me pay if I want to.”

“Ooooh, the middle name – am I being naughty?” she laughed even harder, teasing him. He smiled so hard at that, he couldn’t help but start cracking up and shaking his head. He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Not arguing with ya, sure, whatever,” she said, as she really was tired and starting to get very sleepy.

“You got a place in mind,” he asked her.

“Yep – Holiday Inn, not too far from here, I believe.” She led the way to the car.

“And by the way, woman, I like when you say naughty,” he said huskily. She looked over her shoulder at him, and gave him a playful glare.

They checked into the Holiday Inn, under his name and he paid. Though she tried to pay for the room, he insisted and presented his credit card to the clerk. They had a cooler, and a bag of snacks, as well as one small bag she brought to bring up to the room. She immediately pulled the bedspread and blanket down to the foot of one of the beds, and laid on the cool sheets. She was so sleepy. “Trav, thanks for getting the room. I told you I would, but that was so sweet of you to insist,” she murmured. “There might be a couple toothbrushes and some toothpaste in my little bag, not sure what else, maybe some ibuprofen. Look in there and see if you want. I’m so tired,” she yawned. “Travis?” she waited for him to respond.

“What Lyla?” he replied back.

“Thanks for coming . . .,” she whispered.

“Sure baby,” he said softly as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Getcha a few hours.”

She fell asleep quickly, since she had been up all night. He sat there and watched her sleep thinking about all the things he had missed over the years because he let her go, didn’t tell her, didn’t fight for her. He imagined what kind of life they might’ve had, the children they might’ve had, the love they might’ve had. He had been married four times, and none of them lasted. His longest relationship was twelve years. His past relationships, though he had many many happy memories from them all, had all ended badly.

The women cheated on him, lied to him, deceived him – betrayed him. But for some reason, he felt had he married her, she wouldn’t have done these things. He truly believed, while certainly not perfect, she would’ve honored their wedding vows. She told him she had never cheated on her husband, and he believed her – had no doubts to her honesty. He knew he could be wrong about her. He had been wrong about others before, but he just didn’t think so. And he knew there was a reason why she had always been the one that gnawed at the back of his mind.

He hadn’t slept much either, and all this deep thinking was making him tired. He lay on the other bed, facing her at first, then turned on his back. He closed his eyes and began to think about the past. When he first met her at the restaurant his cousin worked at and how beautiful he thought she was then. He felt affected by her from the start. He thought about all the drugs they used to do together as teenagers, but he knew that wasn’t the draw – just the times. He thought about the night he painted her toenails. The smile crept across his face slowly as he thought about that, and that was his last thought as he fell asleep.

*                                                 *                                               *                                                  *                                            *                                             *

She knew the tattoo shop opened at 4:00. The room they had gotten was about fifteen minutes from the shop. She was nervous, yet excited at the thought of doing something she had so wanted to do decades ago, but never did. That goldfish, she laughed to herself. She had resigned herself to the fact that she would never get a tattoo. She didn’t have anything specific in mind, and hoped the artist could draw her something she liked, or she might not get one. As usual, fence sitting . . .

She sat and drew a few things out, and considering she was not an artist by any means, the sketches of what she had in mind looked pretty good, something the tattoo artist might be able to work with. She still had no idea where she wanted to get this tattoo permanently placed on her body. She thought about her shoulder, but then she wouldn’t be able to see it. She wasn’t getting this for others, she wanted it for herself, and wanted to be able to easily see it, as well as maybe cover it up, if she so desired. She would talk to the artist about that, too, she supposed.

She looked over at Travis sleeping. He looked handsome lying there looking so vulnerable somehow. She loved his thick head of silvering hair. He looked so long on that bed – he was tall, much taller than her. She remembered when she first met him. In reality, they were both still so innocent in their youth – something they would not realize until many years later.

She thought about all the things he had told her about his past, his women, his life. Though her life had been far from perfect, and Travis had been to many exciting places and had some great memories, she knew he was missing having a family, kids that he knew, grandkids that he was involved with. The same things so many of us want in our lives. She hated that his life had turned out that way. He had always been kind to her, and she had always wanted only the best things for him. She cared deeply for him, always had. She had looked for him for years off and on, when she finally found him a little over a decade ago.

Sometimes she wouldn’t hear from him for a while and the number she had for him didn’t work. But sooner or later, he would always contact her again and she was always glad when he did. They had had an abundance of conversations over the years. They were kindred spirits in many ways, but when she met her husband, she had stopped thinking of Travis in a boyfriend kind of way. He hadn’t been calling her much during that time either, come to find out besides his mom being sick, he had been seeing some other girl and had gotten her pregnant. Lyla didn’t know about this until they had reconnected. When she realized the son he never knew was conceived when they were dating, she had to admit, it tarnished his shine just a tad. She wondered, but had no real idea that he was cheating on her. She wasn’t angry, as she wasn’t ready to have sex with him, so she understood him wanting to get it from somewhere – they were horny teenagers after all – but in light of some of the things he had shared with her, it was surprising he would do that. It just seems like he would’ve tried harder. Lyla did not understand guys sometimes.

Sitting here, knowing what she knew, and her marital situation being what it was, she wondered what it might’ve been like if her and Travis had dated longer and fell in real love, marriage type of love. What might it have been like to be Travis’ wife? She knew he adored her, as that had always been clear. He seemed to be a good provider, always having good jobs. Would he have been faithful to her? She wondered. He wasn’t when they dated, though they were only teenagers at the time and everything was so new and unknown. Is he the kind of man who could be happy with just one woman, knowing she was happy with and faithful to him. It didn’t seem like he had too many relationships like that. She wasn’t sure, as she watched his chest move slightly as he slumbered. She did know that he was good to her, kind, considerate, and caring. She enjoyed conversation with him, it was easy as hell for them to be flirtatious – and they both were occasionally, but never anything out of line, never anything that could be taken out of context. Well, not really.

He was starting to rouse; she nudged him a little, “Hey you ‘bout ready to start the next stage in our adventure,” she smiled at him. He opened and closed his eyes a few times, registering what he was seeing upon waking. He hadn’t been dreaming. She was here. He was with her. ‘Look at that smile, those eyes,’ he thought to himself, ‘and to think I might’ve woke up to this beautiful soul-pleasing sight every day of my life, had I been smarter, had I been braver, had I handled things differently.’ He smiled back at her, “Hey gorgeous,” he half whispered, “I am.”

[Part 5 – You Want To Make A Memory]

Write Naked People!!


This is a little piece from my NaNoWriMo. One of my blog buds requested I post a little something – you know who you are, so you better give me some feedback!  The rest of you, please let me know what you think . . . ’cause there’s 50,000 words involved by the end 😉  I’ve been writing about Lyla for awhile – she wants to live in my words. There’s several stories involving her on here. Let me know if you’d like me to share anymore, maybe I’ll pick a racier piece. AND YES my title is deceiving in a way – just wanted to remind y’all that it’s okay to write naked – sometimes it’s even more inspiring LOL! Seriously 😉 I, on the other hand, am wearing the t-shirt I have that says Write Naked. 

Stacy picked Lyla up and they went to a nearby Mexican restaurant, where Lyla ordered her usual jumbo Patron margarita.  Stacy insisted she order some lunch since she had not eaten, and because she looked thin – she had lost at least 15 pounds in the last couple months. She started telling Stacy what had just happened, during which she started to cry right there at their table. They had a good talk about keeping busy, and Stacy reminded her that she needed to start doing things that she enjoyed.

After getting some food in her belly, and over half that margarita, she began to feel a little better. Stacy was right, she needed to do some things she enjoyed, like reading. She had several good books she could get lost in, and she planned to start one tonight once she got home. “The Astronauts’ Wives Club” was waiting for her on her nightstand – she had downloaded it to her e-reader a month or so back. Now that she was feeling semi-human again, Stacy paid the bill and dropped her back at the house.

Lyla, buzzed pretty good now, picked out some music, and turned on the pinball machine. She wanted to hit some balls. She had played several games, and had been dancing around the house to 7 Mary 3, feeling really good, when the phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but now in a laid back mood, decided to answer anyway.

“Hey baby! How the heck are you,” he asked. She recognized his southern drawl immediately, she always did.

“Hey Travis!” she said light heartedly. “How have you been? Haven’t heard from you in awhile.”

“Yeah, my phone’s been down. You know they make you pay for those things,” he laughed. “So how you been girl?”

She had never mentioned any trouble in her marriage to Travis, and wasn’t sure if she should. But here she was drunk, in a good mood and was tired of keeping secrets. Jesse had been gone for over two months, and other then throwing her a good time once in a while he had made no effort to come home or even act as if he still wanted to married. As a matter of fact, he was still telling the marriage counselor that he did not wish to be married to her anymore, or anyone else for that matter.

Lyla was a beautiful woman and wanted someone to share her life with – she wanted her husband, but if he didn’t want her, than she didn’t know how long she was going to sit at home by herself. She had no idea what he did when he wasn’t there and she didn’t ask. He had made it quite clear that he didn’t answer to her anymore on any level about anything. He said that was why he did not want to live with her ever again – he was never going to worry about accounting for anything with anyone ever again.

Thinking of it like that, Lyla decided to tell Travis exactly what had been going on in her life of late. She needed a friend right now and he was always a good friend to her. “Well, in all honesty, not so good Trav. I lost my job a couple months back and haven’t been able to find another one yet. Then four days after I lost my job, Jesse left me – two days after our wedding anniversary. Right now we’re separated. He says he doesn’t want to be married to me anymore. We are in counseling, and I am holding out hope. But, not real sure what’s gonna happen going forward. Worried I might have to sell the house.”

“What?” he was shocked; he had always thought they had a great marriage, or at least that’s what she had alluded to. “Lyla, I am so sorry to hear that,” he continued, “I’m sure y’all will work it out, you’ve been together too long not to.”

She told him she agreed, but it seemed her husband did not. They talked a while about his back injury earlier in the year, and other things that had been going on in their lives. The conversation was lighthearted once she told him about her circumstances and they did not dwell on that any longer than she wanted to. Her margarita buzz had kicked in full throttle at this point and she was teasing him about something.

“Girl, if you were across the table from me right now,” Travis started, and before he could finish Lyla mockingly laughed, “What, you’d kiss me?”

Catching him considerably off guard, he said, “I’d like to Lyla, but I wouldn’t. Not as long as your married – I would never put you in a compromising position. Though having said that, not sure I’d trust myself, either. I have never told you this, but you’re the woman I measured every other against my entire life. I have never forgotten you.”

“Well, no, I never knew that,” she paused, not knowing what to say to that exactly, “though my sister did say you said something kind of cryptic to her, when she saw you at the reunion, and she wondered if that‘s what you were saying. She and I talked about it. I told her I doubted that as it has been decades and you and I didn’t date that long.”

Travis said, “Well she was right. A few made quite an impression on me, but none like you. Every other woman I had serious relationships with, had the same color of eyes as you.”

Lyla teased, to lighten the moment a little, “You don’t even know what color my eyes are,” she laughed.

Travis replied, “Oh yes I do, if memory serves me correctly, they are green. Green like pine needles that have been in sun for a day or so.”

“Damn, I am impressed that you remember that so succinctly,” she said, surprised, flattered, and touched.

Flippantly, she said, “So you have a thing for green-eyed ladies.” She was trying to be funny.

“No, Lyla, that’s not it.” He continued, “I remember many of our conversations verbatim, and that hasn’t happened to me with too many people, but I remember quite a few of ours, as if they were had yesterday.”

“Would I remember any of these conversations,” she asked.

Travis replied, “You might, if we talked about it, but I am not going to do that. Those are my memories, and under the circumstances I am not willing to share them. If things were different I might.”

Lyla laughed as she said, “Like if I was on my deathbed?”

Travis responded, “No.”

It took her a few days to figure out that he meant only if somehow they were a couple would he feel free to share those memories. Though she was ballsy and direct often, that was not a subject she would ever ask about again – she understood.

[Part 2 – Want to Dance Darlin’]

[Part 3 – Moonlight Drive]

[Part 4 – Imagining What Might Have Been]

[Part 5 – You Want To Make A Memory]

It’s A Shame We Aint Lovers – Part 2

If you want to start at the beginning –  Part 1 

Though she could feel his eyes gazing upon her, his passion, his heat, his desire, his love and longing for her through his finger’s touch, she was all of a sudden much soberer than she was five minutes prior. And even more nervous and unsure than she thought she might be. He could sense this as he felt her body trembling, though he could tell she was trying to hide it. He knew she was scared, and he wanted nothing more than to put her at ease, regardless of what might or might not take place tonight.

If the truth were to be known, and she wasn’t so nervous herself and was paying attention, she would’ve noticed he was trembling a bit, too. Though his desire for her was more than he could express, he was also afraid. What if she got cold feet? What if she wasn’t as in to him as he was her? What if the decades of fantasizing about this moment were way beyond the moment itself? What if his lovemaking sucked? What if, oh god, he was so nervous, he couldn’t get it up?

“Why don’t I get us something to drink? You thirsty,” he asked.

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” she murmured, pulling her shirt to, glad for the time out. She cared deeply for him. She always had, and though he had always had a little piece of her heart, in her mind, she had separated herself from him a long time ago – when she chose another man over him, as he had seemed to lose interest in her, and this other man, her soul mate came into her life. She had spent almost four decades with her soul mate before he left her for heaven. She had explained to him in several conversations that she had still not dated anyone, and actually found the whole prospect incredibly intimidating, to say the least.

Standing in the kitchen, he starts pulling out his options from the liquor cabinet, when she said, “Actually, you got something other than booze – had enough of that.”

He opens the fridge, extends his arm in a wave toward the inside, saying, “Be my guest,” smiling so hard, his jaw is starting to hurt. She brushes up against him to see inside the fridge. He still cannot believe she is here.  He noticed she had buttoned a few of her buttons, covering her bodaciousness while her bellybutton peaked out at him – shit even that was sexy and turning him on. Hell if the truth were to be known, the whole idea of her turned him on – every single inch and part of her.

She had been invading his thoughts for decades. Sometimes on a regular basis, some years not as much, but always somewhere in his mind, his heart – wondering where she was, was she happy, was she still with him, did she have a family, what does she look like now – though he remembered her 16-17 year-old self well. She was etched in his memory – the first time he met her, the last time he had seen her, and many other memories as well.

She was considerably shorter than he, and he liked that. Besides having a body that makes a man want fall on his knees, he thought her smile was beautiful and in his opinion could light up a room, and her laugh was deep, husky, and infectious. She was incredibly smart, yet incredibly funny and sarcastic. He could look at her face and her soothing yet haunting green eyes for hours on end, never growing tired.

“Ooohh, how about some lemonade, that sounds good. What do you think?”

“That’ll work,” he smiled and reached for one of her hands. Warren Haynes started singing, I’ll Be the One. They both knew, she couldn’t have picked a more perfect soundtrack for this evening. Not sure exactly how she did that in such a short amount of time. The music kept playing, almost a soundtrack to their relationship.

To be continued . . .

The Past is the Past

Sometimes through our memories and those that we share them with, the past feels alive again, and it can be exciting. After a while though, the fire burns down, and all that is left is the glowing embers of the memories, warm, cozy, and fuzzy around the edges. Through that set of rose-colored glasses, everything looks better than it was. Discovering new information about the past, the storylines in your head begin. You start rewriting scenarios, and what-ifing, what could have been, what might have been. Thoughts flash through your head that seem could have been plausible, but deep down, you know they probably weren’t. You get caught up in it for a time, but then you realize, it really is just sweet memories from the past. And the past is the past . . .

But what if some day it isn’t?

It’s A Shame We Aint Lovers

Something I have been working on . . .  Do you want to know what happens next? Let me know, please. 🙂

“Damn, I look smoking hot tonight,” she said to herself, as she is looking in the mirror getting ready to go out. At first, she smiles, then rethinks if that is a good thing. This is the first time she has seen him in decades and she knows what he will be thinking about. At least she’s pretty sure, from all the comments he has made and all the secrets he has shared.

They go to Galveston’s Mardi Gras celebration, enjoying a sumptuous meal. Afterwards they walked down the seawall for a bit and ended up at the Hot Spot, one of the local biker bars, where they were able to grab a table with friends on the roof to watch the parade festivities and enjoy a few drinks. She had a few more hurricanes, having had a couple at dinner. He had a couple more Grey Goose’s. They laughed and caught beads, and danced around and sang. Her friends were great fun and he was happy to have had the chance to spend some time getting to know them, and with her. He liked watching their interaction; it was obvious they were all close.

He’s not really sure how they got here this quickly, in his apartment. He had hoped they would end up here, hoped it would happen tonight, but he wasn’t sure it would happen, and certainly wasn’t banking on it – not even now as they stand there looking at each other. She is glancing around, curious about his tastes after never knowing him with his own place. The last time they spent time together in person, he was 16 & 17and still lived at home. They have talked on the phone plenty and chatted frequently, too, over the last decade and a half. But this is the first time they had actually seen each other since then. Well, there had been that one time he saw her, but she hadn’t seen him and had no idea he was there where she was – but that’s another tale.

She spots his stereo. “Can I put something on,” she asks. Already looking through his iPod before he could respond, she chooses a playlist she recognizes a few songs on. Songs he turned her on to a few years back. She puts the device in its cradle, hits the play button and adjusts the volume where they can hear it well, yet still talk over it without too much effort.

Hayes Carll starts playing – the song he told her makes him think of her every time he hears it – It’s A Shame We Aint Lovers. They discussed it once & agreed that song kind of told their story, at the time anyway. She laughs, “Loved this song ever since you turned me on to it!”

“Well woman, you definitely have a good memory,” he replied. “A bit surprised you remember that conversation.”

“Yeah, I remembered. Kinda hard to forget many of the things you have told me,” she says softly, almost whispering, “You can be quite charming, and your feelings for me & how you have expressed them over time have been quite surprising. I think you think you love me,” she says coyly.

“Do you now,” he whispered as he leans down to kiss her. Timidly she backs off a bit, yet doesn’t pull away.

She is wearing a white gauze button up shirt. Though they had stopped kissing at this point, while they are standing in front of the each other, he takes the opportunity to begin unbuttoning her blouse. She pulls back a little, with a look conveying she is not sure she is ready for this step in her new life. “I’m really nervous . . .”

“I know you are sweetheart,” he said, “As God is my witness, I do not want to do anything you are not comfortable with until you are comfortable.”

“I know you don’t. I know you respect me and care about me. I just don’t want you to think I am leading you on,” she said demurely.

He continues to unbutton the shell buttons keeping the flowy white gauze covering her. While he could feel her trembling a bit, she allowed him to continue. He could already tell she had a nice tan, natural not one of those store-bought ones. Her skin was soft, and a little sparkly right above her breasts and down her cleavage. He smiled at this – she had prepared to look nice regardless of the outcome. He liked this thought as it rolled around his brain.

Nothing was said as he unbuttoned the last button and pulled her blouse away a little showing her voluptuous curves. As her bra fastened in the front, this caught his attention, quickly followed by the lavender lace gracing the top of her breasts. As he ran his finger across the top of the bra, he looked at her. She looked nervous, unsure, but also had that hungry longing look in her piney green eyes of a woman who had not been touched, desired or loved in a while.

He grew braver, as she had not reached her hand up to stop him, nor voiced any objection. He wanted so badly to see her, touch her, hold her, have her as his own.  Slipping a few fingers inside the lace, he ran them right down to the clasp, and unhooked her bra. As it popped open, he leaned back a little to ensure a good view. He had never forgotten what her teenage body looked like and she had beautiful tits back then, and they were even more beautiful now with age – nice, full though fuller more to the outside, not huge, but definitely more than enough to fill his hand or his mouth. He slipped her blouse and bra straps off her shoulder, noticing the little dimples in her shoulder blades. He remembered those, too – he found them to be quite sexy.

As her blouse and bra slipped to the ground, she stepped back a few inches and so did he. He looked at her, her soft, brown, fairly firm yet curvy torso made him grin all the way across his face – no way she could miss that response.  He wanted to scoop up her tits and put his lips and tongue all over them, especially her small pink nipples. He wanted to bury his face into them and her.

He worked hard to contain his excitement and desire, as he did not want to scare her away. Though he had touched her beautiful tits and body before, he wanted to touch them again – and do more. He knew if he moved too fast, she might get headlights of fear in her eyes and bolt. He certainly understood – she had been married for over 37 years. Being with someone new for the first time after that long can be daunting at best, horrifying at worst depending on her mood and mindset, as well as levels of comfort and desire.

Her feelings about this were of utmost importance to him. He had waited too long to allow this to be something she might regret. He loved her. He had always loved her. Even when he wasn’t thinking about her over the years in the past, he knew he loved her. He had loved others, but there was always a little piece of his heart those women didn’t own – she did, she always had from the day he met her, and certainly once he got to know her and what she was about. He had begun wondering over the years if that’s why his other relationships never worked out, she was his soul mate.

“Wow woman – I believe I am speechless,” he said low and husky with that southern drawl of his, as he looked at her nude from the waist up. He truly lost his breath for a moment. He never imagined he would see her again like this. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to his big bed, and show her all the love he has held inside for her all these years. He wanted to do all the things he had dreamed of doing with her if he ever got the chance again.

But he didn’t dare. He just looked at her, as he reached and gently touched her arm, running his fingers down to hers. He could never remember feeling this warm before in his life. He thought he might spontaneously combust standing right there. But he knew he had to be patient, he had to take this slow. He had to let her set the pace. By now the next song that always reminded him of her was playing, Hayes Carll’s Beaumont.

To be continued . . . maybe . . . and thanks for the inspiration Hayes Carll!!

The Encounter (Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt)

“Hey, where you going,” she shouted from across the street.

She walked over with a friend, and standing next to me, green eyes staring up, said “Can you give us a ride?” She was short, maybe a little over five feet, with dirty blond hair. Her voice was deep and sexy. How had I not noticed her before, living right across the street?

“Where are you going,” I asked.

“We need a ride to the mall.”

“I’m just going to the little store at the front of the neighborhood,” he replied, but thought shit, I’m not an idiot, I’ll take them further.  “I guess I can take you to the freeway.”

She smiled, which made those green eyes light up, replying “Cool, we can hitch a ride from there,” as she climbed in the front passenger seat. “This is my friend, Cheryl.”

I don’t recall what all was said that day long ago, but that single encounter changed my life. I made that girl my wife and I am pretty certain with all my being, had I not met her, my life would’ve consisted of prison or early death. She saved me from myself and continues to do so, on a daily basis. She gave me a beautiful daughter, who has subsequently given me two beautiful granddaughters. She has loved me in spite of all my shortcomings.

Written using the prompt – Who has changed your life just by walking into it? – from:

Cream Horn Orgasms for Your Mouth



When I lived in the Ozarks, there was grocery store named Smitty’s. Like many grocery stores, it had a bakery. One of the treats they offered was cream horns. These weren’t just your average run-of-the-mill cream horns. They were easily six inches long, and filled with the smoothest subtlest vanilla cream with the perfect consistency and smoothness – but not like whipped cream or pudding. Typically, cream horns are a bit firm and flaky, but the firmness of the pastry makes them appear a bit stale at times. The pastry for Smitty’s cream horns was flaky, but tender.

When you bit into these babies there was a slight crunch, and then tender flaky pastry that then began melting in your mouth, with this glorious sweet slightly vanilla flavored cream. Yes, I was in love! In my opinion, these were like an orgasm for your mouth and taste buds – and that’s exactly how I described them.

When we moved from there, over 800 miles away, whenever we went back to the area to visit, we always stopped at Smitty’s for my mouth orgasms. There were a few times I even had a good friend mail me a half-dozen at a time. I will admit, blushing just a tad, I did put on a few extra pounds when I lived there and could get those joys for my mouth on a regular basis 🙂


Not sure if I will manage a poem today for NaPoWriMo – wanted to do something different. This piece is in response to The Daily Post Prompt Junk Food Junkie.


I Might Have Said Yes – (Twenty Questions NaPoWriMo Writing Prompt )


How did I miss how strong your feelings were?

Why didn’t you keep in touch?


Why didn’t you ask me the question you came to ask me?

Why did you hide how you felt?


How could you walk away from me, without giving me a clue?

It was a long time ago, I know . . . but I might have said yes.





[I had so much fun with this prompt, I wrote several, but only posted two.]

I also used this for my prompt for SoCS April 26/2014 at 

Previous Older Entries

© ~ Sadie ~ and Windchimes and Dreamcatchers, 2013-2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ~ Sadie ~ and Windchimes and Dreamcatchers with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
%d bloggers like this: