Coming Around by Sheila Hall

She sits there.

No, I take that back, she never just sits. She reclines. She poses. She invites the eyes with every curve of her sensuous body. I have never seen her just be in a space, she owns it.  Her scent fills up the air and draws the eye, commanding your attention without a single word or gesture.  She IS the ultimate specimen of sexual desire; a perfect meal for all of the senses.

There is no reason to assume that I could ever catch her eye in return.  My awkwardness and off-the-rack clothing seem more likely to sully her radiance than impress her.  Whatever my misgivings of worthiness, I find myself drawn like all the rest of the moths intent on her flame.  I haven’t the courage to hover so close to her.  I accept my suffering in the cold, content to occasionally watch the blaze.

As if she holds an invisible rope around my center, I feel the tug of her leaving the main room.  I follower her out like some lost puppy trailing a hopeful hand.  Through the various corridors, passing door after door, my unease grew from the guilty pleasure of just the two of us together; her sycophants gone for the time being.  When she enters the last door on her right, I pause in my pursuit.  Do I have the strength to walk away or will I see this all the way toward its inevitable end?

I slowly approach the doorway, timid as the prey caught in the uncovered meadow.  My head is screaming for me to just leave.  Leave now before I make a fool out of myself.  But as I turn to walk away, I catch the slightest note from inside the room. A moan? I barely breathe, straining to hear the noises emanating from in there.  A soft sigh, sweet and full of promise, drifts out and my thoughts turn off.  I stride boldly forward but grind to a halt a few feet past the doorway.  She is on the couch, naked as the sun, with her legs spread wide and her fingers dancing between them.  Even as she sees me standing there, her rhythm never falters. I can’t stop staring at those long graceful digits playing her body like a finely tuned instrument.  Her eyes are locked onto mine, her sweet sounds vibrating throughout my entire body.

I can tell my watching has taken this little game to a new level. Her toned body, her succulent flesh, is flushed; a stark need reflective in her soulful eyes.  In that preciously tense moment, I had to tell her how I felt.  This brief moment of utter exposure will probably the only opportunity I will ever get.  All those long hours spent daydreaming of my chances, have culminated to right now.  But as my mouth opens, only one word of thousands rehearsed came forth.


Just like that, the match strikes and her orgasm flares, consuming her entire being.

Sheila Hall ©


~ by Desires in the Dark on August 26, 2013.

2 Responses to “Coming Around by Sheila Hall”

  1. Enjoyed

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