Monday, June 18, 2012

Circa 1990

I had to dig out some old scribble-books of mine from my first (and failed) attempt at college.  My friend, Bryon, and I scribbled a lot of miscellaneous thoughts in my notebooks ~ hence, I dubbed them scribble-books.

But I forgot about some of the profound writing contained within these pages. I have to be honest. I don't know who gets the credit for writing this one.  Judging by the pattern in my scribble-book, this one is mine. It's my handwriting, not Bryon's.  And I didn't credit him at the bottom as I did other things I transcribed in the scribble-book.  A lot of what I wrote was snippets. Scribbles. Things to be added to or to throw in a story. I may have to share more at a later date.  In the meantime, enjoy this snippet!

He rose; she reached; he poised; she placed; he pressed; she parted; he sank; she the uncontrollable and ceaseless rhythms of the universe, they added one more.

Her body opened like an oyster shell, and his smooth and silken strokes sought and grazed the pearl within, that precious jewel of sensuality whose arousal unleashed some magical force that fired her limbs.

She met each of his thrusts with one of equal might, and together they reached for the reward they had earned with the long night of solitude.

They were bound by love but powered by a lust as rich and demanding as their bodies deserved.

Her teeth were bared as he drove into her with a mad passion that soon set off the first pulsations deep within.

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