nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Where I want to be

Know where I want to be?

Out in the middle of nowhere, vehicle doors standing open, mild breeze blowing enough to leave goosebumps in it's wake. Twilight bordering on night while we kissed, tongues tangled and teasing and hands roaming at will. Me sitting on the hood with you standing between my thighs,leaning against the bumper while running your palms up the legs of my shorts. My hands up the back of your shirt, nails drawing patterns against your spine. Licking the salt at your throat, feeling your growl against my lips. Heat.

And then later...bare ass against the hood, metal still warm from the engine underneath, watching the stars behind my eyelids brightening to match the stars in the black sky. Nipples hardened by more than the breeze, feeling you move inside me. Hearing our sighs mix with the songs of crickets and locust, our own private chorus. Words tumbling from your mouth to mine. Coming apart then being pieced back together.

***

Or maybe just sloshing through the puddles, feeling the cold seep into our bones, toes wet and numbed by the rainwater we've submerged them in. Feeling droplets of rain slip down my back, cooling my skin there while my palm warms yours. Whispery wet sounds of cars passing in the distance, feeling the strength of the storm ebb and flow. Smelling water-soaked earth and lush greens and the scent only fresh rain carries in. Feeling you beside me, sharing my joy in this, not having to say one word because the silence says it all. Then home, to immerse in a hot shower, wrapped in each other.

That would be nice too.

***

A minute ago, there was a tiny doe standing at the top of my back hill, silhouetted against the fading daylight back there. She stood there nervously for a few minutes, ears twitching and waiting for something. She picked her way quietly through a couple bushes back there, seeking deeper shelter when the rain picked up in strength. Watching the house, she came just a bit closer, neck stretched while reaching for the last of the grapes left on the vine wound around the bush there. And once she'd gotten a timid mouthful, she made her way back out into the field beyond the hill. There was such a fluid grace to her, something so gentle in her movements and yet she was coltish too. Reminded me of a little girl I watched on the boys' playground once.

***

Happy Wednesday. Be safe tonight.

N.

6:43 p.m. - 2004-09-08

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