(Nofret sits at the computer and suddenly recoils, one hand drifting to her face as her eyes drift to her lap, and the snow white glove now residing there. She picks up the offending object and examines it before looking back at the monitor; she throws the piece of cloth back at the computer only mildly put off that it wouldn't go back the way it came from.) **Authoress' Notes revised on December 23**
Authoress' Notes:(uh, oh, they're at the beginning again, that can't be good!) I'm still in denial, please, please, please be kind. (Part of the original December the 19 AN.)
Restricted.
Hot, wet kisses, frantic hands of slender and dexterous fingers over rustling clothing opening buttons, pushing at the fabrics impeding further exploration of velvety skin; slightly tanned fingers losing themselves in flaming red hair, eyes like burned chocolate greedily drinking in the image presented to her by pale skin, full lips and ardent brown eyes so alike yet so different.
A soft moan escapes her throat as it arches of its own volition, white teeth scraping at the sensitive skin of her neck, her own hands seeking purchase on the sweat slicked skin of her partner's back, feeling the muscles underneath expand and contract as soft, talented hands map her own leaving trails of living fire behind, all the while keeping her well at hand, within easy reach of the mouth threatening to eat her whole.
Her open hands trail, exposing and exploring the frail looking, yet reassuringly there, body before her; perfect memory etching every detail on itself, every reaction, every sensation, every sound and every image presented to her, carefully, excruciatingly appraised and systematically filed for future use, future reference. Her motions might appear frantic but, as the intentions behind them, were anything but. Always seeking to learn, and in this case, always seeking to please… and be pleased. She bit into a collarbone getting a startled groan for an answer. Oh, yeah.
More and more skin was revealed, their position somehow having changed, no longer standing, long legs intertwining, rubbing and caressing. Agitated breathings, panting, groaning, moaning, salty sweat reducing the friction degree between the two bodies; occasionally, words of encouragement, or encouraging not so words, highlight the primal symphony of two persons immersed on each other.
Both feminine bodies, both slender and, by anyone's standards, petite, barely a couple inches difference; both proud representative of their foreign heritage: one slender, lightly tanned with long dark, straight hair. The other slightly shorter of pale skin peppered here and there with freckles and wavy, startlingly copper hair. So apparently different, as much physically as personally; no one ever bothering to see beyond this perception… no one ever seeing beneath the surface…
There was an indefinable quality to this tableau, something not quite right yet not quite wrong; something not entirely within the usual perception of reality, liberating on its mists and suffocating to its fringes. Like the things you know but won't admit.
Suddenly, what had so far had a whispered tenderness to the act took on a frantic rhythm; voices raising along with heartbeats and harsh panting, all rapidly reaching their peak.
White teeth clamp on a pale shoulder to stifle a profane exclamation as an all too known sweet voice tinged with an unusual rustiness, that almost makes it sound new, filled the otherwise silent room.
"DENISE!!"
"NO!!!"
********
"Boxer" the tall brunette groused on the phone, not even bothering to check the clock not wanting to know just how much sleep she was about to lose; it was enough just to know it was still dark outside.
"Lindz, I'm losing my mind." The panicked voice of one Jill Bernhard helped the inspector shake off enough sleep to realize this had nothing to do with work and that she was going to kill her friend if she didn't dish out more information soon.
Preferably to explain the, oh, so rude awakening.
"Care to give me more details?" she settled for a patient tone, it just wouldn't do to pull a Freddy Krueger on one of her best friends. Though it proved to be an interesting (and useful) concept to figure out.
The Return of the AN:
If any of you was brave enough to read this through, I congratulate you. Thanks specially to pprbckwrtr (it was of two G clefs, by the way) and res cogitans for your support and in case your reading this; thanks to rebakathy, nowhere89, Ebony-Jayne, suz573, Future PDX P.D. 2011 and yellowsmurf6. And pprbckwrtr, sorry if this isn't exactly what you where imagining but once the idea took hold there was nothing I could do. Besides, do you have any idea of the absolute sexy-ness that a pianist Cindy IS? (Reilly might have had something to do with the twist this took, you know?).
Still in shock:
Nofret.
P.s. Though, traumatized might be the most suitable word. But please comment, it's the most graphic I've yet written (AND published), and I'd like to know what you think.