Friday, March 14, 2008


Her palm felt like a dagger. The hand which had been outstretched to touch the warm body behind the green silk froze in the air before dropping. When the beetroot red drained out, a shadow crept up to his brow. He took a menacing step towards her, a strange vigour in his spirit. Her vision absorbed every movement – the taut jaw muscles, the angry vein on his neck, where the collar of the worn out, blue checked shirt ought to have been, a strange foreboding lining the fingers holding together the fist. She stared at the vein snaking its way into the flesh and for an instant gave up guard.
She saw her lips planting baby kisses behind his ear, while her hand………NO! NO! NO! Now’s not the time for silly whims! She shook her head and focussed on loathing him.
Left foot firmly rooted to the glistening black marble, she deftly raised her right and slid it about a foot back. Fingers knit together into two steeled balls, planted strategically before the chest to safeguard, and if necessary to land a blow. Her hair, a bunch of live wires gone awry, kissed her face, half shrouding the scowl that came easily. Her countenance, fierce like a warrior’s, about to bury a sword into the enemy’s heart.
He grinned, slightly amused by her poise. All she needed now was a short, dirty brownish-grey leather skirt, a metallic corset and high, leather boots, and she’d be no less than Xena. Though the light outside was paling, she saw the grin. A shiver darted through her – was it the sudden coldness in the room or just the fact that the dark shadow on his face had left behind something more dangerous?
He run his fingers through his hair and messed it up, his eyes never deserting her’s. Rolling up the blue checked sleeves up, he revealed arms that had been well worked upon. She gulped for a second, in the next, wondered if he had glimpsed the fear in her watery eyes that had now begun to hurt with the effort of keeping her gaze steady.
“Should we switch on the lights or do you want me to take you in the dark?” He was right. She could scarcely see him now. The orange light of the road lamp travelled through the window pane, creating an illuminated orange circle on the floor. His silhouette was still, she knew that for sure.
“If you touch me, I’ll kill you!” Her voice carried more conviction than she had intended to express. She felt him grin again a few feet away from her.
Wait a minute! Did his silhouette just move?? She could see it no longer. She hurriedly brought feet together, fingers opened and reached out into the darkness to find the switchboard, molten heat oscillating from her brain to her toes. Ah! There it was, next to the bookshelf laden with musty, bound volumes. She carefully edged towards what seemed to have become her sole key to survival. Her hand stretched out to touch the cool plastic, but it touched warmth. Eyes widened, shoulders stiffened. Fear!
Something warm and wet glided down her finger tips to her palm. For five seconds, she let it, giving herself up to that familiar tingling between her legs. When his shrewd hand squeezed her left breast, she suddenly pulled back. His hand pelted down onto her arm, while the other desperately sought another hold. She squealed, jumped and struggled. Pure fear! And then, fury!
Letting out an angry cry, she raised her leg, toe pointing to the ground, potential energy in its truest form. With a much practiced force, she made contact with his groin. He yelped like a dog who’s tail had been stepped upon. Loud curses went up into the young night, as she heard him stumble over the furniture and fall with a crash.
Now she grinned. Remembering the way to the door, she took sure steps towards it, light sneaking in from the edges and the bottom. Before the beast could rise, she pulled it open and ran out into the orange twilight. Free!

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