Summer Heat
By: SweetDulcinea
Prompt: porch swing
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I've always been the quiet observer. I have a way of fading into the background, unseen and unheard until someone needs me. Heaven forbid I should desire the company or companionship of another from time to time. No, I simply hold my station, serving my purpose when everyone else sees fit.
Perhaps they simply forget that I am around. I can see how my appeal would pale in comparison to some others, but still, my loneliness is a curse.
Jealousy is not something I relish, but there are times that bitter emotion wins out, no matter how hard you try to keep it at bay.
She has a way of bringing that out in me. She came into this town as a sudden storm – seemingly calm and easy, but overturning lives almost instantly upon arrival.
Suddenly, everyone wants to know this woman. Everyone wants a piece of her; to share in her light, to bask in her presence. I am amongst that throng, withering away as her attention is always given to someone else…
I saw them that night, rocking in time with breathy cries.
Her shirt, long since thrown aside, left her half clothed; exposed. Her body was soft and delicate, the creamy tone of her skin seeming to pale further in the moonlight. She was luminescent and lovely.
The night air was warm. Sticky, but a light breeze offered some semblance of relief from the summer heat. The same heat that brought them together, encouraging and amplifying the intensity with each passing moment.
Her nipples peaked with a light touch, pressing into the delicate fabric of her bra. She seemed to enjoy the sensation immensely, whimpering in response to every caress, every brush of a fingertip, every squeeze. Unhinged and wild with primal need, I wished I could be closer. To feel her lithe little body against me would be a fantasy brought to life, but I was the rarely acknowledged one. It felt like ages since I had enjoyed the company of someone as special or as beautiful as Miss Bella Swan. Not all dreams come true…
As those lucky hands traversed her body, my ire grew. They moved together, in time with the romantic whispers. Those poetic words mingled in the air, wrapping delicately around the little bubble that contained them. She was clearly taken with whatever was on that piece of paper, as well as the barer of that gift. The moment was sexy and sensual, titillating and taboo.
Her head tipped back, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as pleasure coursed through her body. A flash of her pink tongue wet her lips, and her teeth tenderly bit into her lower one when it all became too much. She came with a sharp cry.
Slowly, her eyes opened and she composed herself. Gathering her belongings, she went into the house, leaving us both outside in the muggy heat.
As always, I sat alone in the dark, staring off into nothing and wishing that I might someday have my chance.
Oh, to be that porch swing…but I am just a lowly wicker chair.
A/N: There you have it. My homage to chapter 7 of The Wingman =)