Jaimie's Story

Warm water slowly slid underneath the film of stale nicotine and dank bar sweat that coated her pearl hair. The smell at first boiled, then deadened as the water poured over her firm skin, taking the stench of hundreds of Marlboros and thousands of putrid glands with it. As she pushed a deluge of water down her chest and across her thighs, she could feel the change from foul to pure, the very texture of her skin itself changing from sandy to supple.

The deep warmth, and utter solitude of the shower allowed her mind a vacation, a brief, desperate, chance to look upon her very spirit as it truly was. The simple joy of allowing her hands to roam her own skin satisfying a primal need more passionate than any erotic fantasy. Rather,  the deep need to know she was indeed still herself, that a thousand cliché propositions, and grasping foreign hands had not broken her soul.

But there was lust there as well. A deep, demanding need for satisfaction never quite reached, driven by fantasies never fully understood, and desires never considered. Her hands swept her hair back, as she was enveloped in the scandalous embrace of the water. She could feel the tips of each hair as her fingers brushed past the ends and teased ever so lightly the back of her neck. The fingertips were as lightening bolts, seemingly detached from her control, and instead wired directly to nerve endings.

An involuntary open mouthed gasp brought the warm water running across her face softly into her mouth, splashing across her tongue and causing a shiver, and a second deeper gasp. Her mind raced in incomprehensible circles, with flashes of bodies covered in sweat and leather dancing in candlelight, as she could feel her own body respond to the demands of her mind, and her hands.

As she felt her nipples stiffen, and her body flush, she realized that in her mind she was dancing  among the amorphous undulating bodies. Her fantasy wound her up to higher and higher levels of frustration, she shamelessly licked at the water caressing her, as she let her hands wander with more intense purpose. The swirling dreamscape pushing her lust ever higher demanded ever more concentration as its detail grew, until the water, and everything else were forgotten, there was only the writhing bodies surrounding her, with wet skin, hungry mouths, and butter soft leather all on her body at once.

The sheer wanton sexuality, and frank nastiness of the anonymous bodies focusing their attention on her, brought her desire to peaks that she had never seen before. She was panting and moaning with desire, unable even to form words, merely a instrument that was being played, not a person but a being of only desire. A man, musculature defined by the candlelight, loomed over her and grasped each of her wrists, pinning them above her head, as faceless tongues traced the sensitive outline of her ribs down each side. A senseless abandon overwhelmed her, it was heavenly hell, a terrible nirvana of delicious frustration.

From the faceless bodies rose a stunning woman, perfection punctuated by the flickering orange glow, with dark hair shadowing her face, and a supple leather corset defining her midsection.  The woman stood on her knees between Jaimie's splayed legs, as Jaimie's near lust panicked eyes took in her goddess like stature. The woman lowered herself across Jaimie's body, whispering something unknown into her sensitive ear. Jaime felt now nothing but the man's hands on her wrists, restraining her, and the woman's body, hands, and mouth against her own as her desperation grew.

Slowly and with intricate skill, the woman toyed with Jaimie's body, finding not only new areas of sensation, but new sensations. Nothing escaped her exploration, a drip of moisture and a whiff of breath on the inside of the armpit, the tip of a tongue across the panty line, each touch heightening the need, the utter, painful, demand for release.

Finally, the woman's head found its inevitable way between her legs, and Jaimie in her lost state watched as she brought her mouth to the top of her flushed sex, lifting her face as she did so. As the woman's mouth found its home, her face was revealed in the flickering light, and Jaimie looked into eyes that she knew. Like a film breaking, the world went dark, and a searing light flashed through Jaimie's vision.

Decades, perhaps millennium, later the splashing of water on her face brought Jaimie back to the shower, lying on her back as the still warm water poured down upon her still flush body. The lust was gone, replaced with a deep ease, and no desire to move. It may have been several minuets before muffled words, and the bang of a door cut through the thin walls of her trailer, welcoming her back to her reality, and causing her desperation nearly as great. 

Dried, and dressed in jeans and a snug T-shirt, Jaimie looked at the clock and realized that it was only twelve hours until she had to get back to work behind the bar, and after that there was the little one to pick up from a weekend at Dad's, and school work to do. Always school work to do.