The Re-Release of 'The Journey of Ruthie Belle' Coming Soon.
The Re-Release of 'The Journey of Ruthie Belle' Coming Soon.
My beacon that shines above
that illuminates a weary soul.
You’re a blessing with no disguise;
a right thief that comes gently
into the night.
How long has it been?
Days turned to weeks;
then weeks turned to months
And yet, you’re still here;
patiently waiting for that day
when you and I are more than you and I
When two souls emerge into an infinite one.
You’ve shown me patience
You’ve shown me kindness
You’ve never, ever, boast
You’re never, ever, been the type to self-seek
You’re just a man, a unique man
Who flaws I adore more
than the rest of your perfections.
I care for more of who you are
than what you are.
I heed to your grace;
the darkness of your skin
Your exquisite smile
Your God-fearing ways
And yet I’m waiting for that day;
when saying those words,
those ever precious,
rolling from my lips
with a thunderous, yet sweet kiss.
To be bound by your soul
To be enamored by your wit
To be enthralled by compassion
I hunger for your desire
I yearn for your strength
You’re my midnight
as I’m your stars,
painting through the sky.
With a stroke of destiny’s brush;
allowing the wind to create something
perhaps, a prelude to such
Still, you’re a man who’s never been proud
or point out wrongs
You’re just man, a unique man
who rides on hope when it’s rare to hope
who’s faithful when faithless is the trend.
A man who I respect,
my lover, my best friend.
I’m not a poet by heart
Hopeless romantic on occasions,
but a woman with this expression
that run deep,
deep beyond any emotion.
Feelings are so overwhelming
they’re like a riveting potion
So, yes, I feel the same way
And still hoping to the day;
when you and I becomes an infinite one.
To be continue…
(c) Author Wildflower, 2017
Meet the "sweet and sassy" author and poet, Wildflower. She writes the softer side to the Necé and Company Publications with an "unpredicatable" brand sizzling romance and poetry.
There he was, sitting alone on the edge of the couch, confined in the room’s darkness. Our eyes met as Calvin shuddered with nervousness. The decorative pillow Kat had fluffed so well covered his crotch. His fingers clawed into the grains of the fabric, hiding his moment of self-pleasure. As startled as I was, I shyly lowered my head and sauntered to what I was looking for: my Bible. As I reached up to the mantle to grab for it, I heard a soft whimper, as if he were clearing his throat out of embarrassment. My eyes remained forward, staring at the collection of photos of Kat, his little girl, and him. Then a curious thought had crossed my mind: what does his hand have that his wife doesn’t?
“I’m…I’m sorry, Mr. Hatcher.” I kept my eyes forward. “I had no idea you were here. I’d just came to get this.” I held up my mama’s Bible to verify my statement and headed toward my bedroom. Yet somehow, the radiant moonlight piercing through the window behind Calvin had become my beacon of courage. I stopped as the gentle warmth soothed my skin , and I closed my eyes for a moment, waiting for his words: “Get out” or “Do you need anything else, Lucy?”
Still, there was a deafening silence.
I then realized the beauty of the moonlight had brought out more than my courage, but an incandescent glow beneath my gown. There was no bra or panties, just a revealing silhouette of my true nature. My eyes wandered back to Calvin as he continued to clutch that pillow against his groin while the other hand laid hidden on his crown jewel. Our gaze shared a mutual temptation of look but don’t touch. I bit my lip and squeezed into the groves of the Bible tighter because what I felt I knew was wrong! This man’s wife is my employer. After her mother’s stroke, his wife, who friended me in the hospital, was the same person who’d welcomed me into her home to become her mother’s nurse aide. Months later, Kat had become more dependent on me because her mental health had mysteriously declined.
As I inhaled to untether a rapture of emotions by tilting my head back and sighing, I had to remind myself that his seven-month pregnant wife was upstairs sleeping well in their bed. His four-year-old daughter, Anya, and his mother-in-law are also resting in their slumber. It was just him and me, in the cloak of darkness.
“I can’t,” I softly whispered. I looked to Calvin one more time and shook my head. “I have to go.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he finally spoke. “This is wrong!”
But not even a reasonable three steps later, I peered to the top of the stairs, wondering if Kat was a hard sleeper. Since working for the Hatchers, Anya had never got up in the night for anything, nor Ms. Elsie. So, I have two choices: go upstairs and forget what I saw, or stay a little longer to see how far I could go. As one aunt used to say, “Savor your precious moments, it could be your last.”
“Lucy?” Calvin muttered, voicing a mild trepidation. “You’re still here?”
“Do you want me to go?” I focused on the top of the stairs.
He grudgingly sighed. “I…I don’t know.”
Just then, the aching curiosity I had for Kat’s husband had elevated to a painful hunger. Instinctively, I returned my heartfelt gaze to a man whom I found irresistible since day one. I knew in the back of my mind this very married man with skin like molasses could never be mine. Yet Calvin’s signals were just as powerful: the side-eye stares, the gentle brush when Kat wasn’t looking, and the conversations that, at times, had turned into subliminal. Each time, he spellbound me.
At that moment, everything I tried to fight against prevailed. My sense of what was right or wrong became useless. I felt now and wanted nothing more than to taste wrong and feel good about it. Even Mama’s Bible, which I cherished so much, slipped clear from my hand. I guess it knew my ultimate sin was coming.
As I lowered to grab the Holy book, one of my breasts eased from the tip of my gown. Deep down, I wanted not only for him to look at it but to do anything he wanted with me. Though guilt had ravished my spirit—and yet, I didn’t care. I tried to tame the sensual hunger. So, I did what I had to do. I rose, leaving Mama’s Bible on the carpet, and looked to the staircase once more. I uttered an old African phrase that the women in my family had handed down. In English , I whispered, “Sleep tight.” It may have meant nothing, nor would it have stopped anyone from waking up, but it was a dose of encouragement to drop my gown and bear my precious essentials.
Stunned, Calvin finally revealed his other hand and rested it on top of the pillow. He relaxed deep against the couch, admiring every angle of my curves, yet quickly diminished when he glanced at the staircase. “But, Ka—”
I knelt between his opened thighs, placing my finger over his mouth. “Not now. Just relax and close your eyes. I’m going to take care of you.”
Without him fighting it, I removed the pillow and feasted my eyes on his lanky, dense manhood. My teeth clenched into my lower lip at the beautiful sight. I got up, placing a sweet kiss on his forehead, then to his mouth, onto the smoothness of his chest until I got to the tip of his destiny. “Let me take care of you,” I whispered, as I descended my affection in his inner thighs, carefully removing his boxer shorts.
We could feel the sexual tension captivating the nature of our essence. The deeper my kisses, he’d reacted with respite sighs. I wanted to give all to please Calvin, even if it was for one night only. Yet, time was against us. So, I lunged to his erection and wrapped my mouth around him. The taste was better than wrong but purity of what had been right. I felt it, and so did he. In my peripheral vision, I noticed his fingers clawing into the fabric of the couch. His body shook with each stroke, which caused me to delve deeper into all of him.
“Lucy,” he shuddered.
I didn’t want to respond. My mouth was too busy taking care of his needs. Something Kat couldn’t or wouldn’t do—or maybe she didn’t know how. Too bad. One woman’s ignorance is another woman’s treasure.
“Lucy, please.” Calvin’s voice shook.
“Please, what?” I responded with an annoying tone.
“Apparently you weren’t thinking of your wife when you were down here jacking your shit off in the dark. Or drooled like a schoolboy when I stripped off my gown; or tearing the fabric on this couch as I’m sucking you. So, let me ask you this: do you want me, Calvin?”
He hesitated as he looked to the stairs. “Well…yes.”
“Stop looking at the goddamn stairs and answer me like a man. Do you want me?”
After a split millisecond, he nodded. “Yes.”
I smiled and then stood erect, peering down to see the anguish in his eyes. There were no more words to be expressed. I was ready for phase two. So, without a second thought, I straddled his penis and just took off as if I flew high in the stratosphere. After weeks of imagining his warmth inside me, I finally felt Calvin’s soul penetrating my lady parts. The feeling was so intense, I arched my back and sighed in a low-pitched moan. “Show me more!”
Then the man in him had finally emerged and asked forcefully, “You want more?”
Before I could respond, Calvin used his handsome, muscular frame to hoist my body against his, taking me to the wall next to the entryway. Oh, the passion was poetic and yet hardcore at the same time, trapping me between the totality of his spirit and the entrance of his authenticity. As badly as I wanted to scream for joy, I contained everything in subtle tears. I didn’t want it to end; I didn’t want us to finish. Everything I’d hoped for had come true.
“Dammit, Lucy, I’m about to…” Calvin moaned.
“Don’t hold it in.” I held him tighter.
“Let it go, baby.”
“She’ll hear me.”
“Let it go!”
He thrust deeper inside, conveying some climatic tunes. There were a few moans and groans, but the finality was a mighty sound of satisfaction, ending our one-night rendezvous. Was I sad it was over? Nope, not in the least.
Before he had gone to feel sorry for himself, I grabbed his cheeks like a strict mother and kissed him square on his mouth. “If you want more, you know where to find me.” His eyes wandered to the stairs again, but this time, I slapped his cheek to get his attention. “Do you hear me?” I glared into her eyes. “My room is down the hall from yours. Come in at any time of the night. I’ll be waiting.”
Finally, after what seemed to be a lifetime, spending a few minutes with this gorgeous creature, I proceeded toward the stairway to my bedroom.
“Lucy, aren’t you forgetting your gown?” He held it up.
Standing at the bottom of the stairs stark naked, I boasted a grin. “No, you keep it. After all, I know you’re going to sulk in the dark again. Once I close my door, you'll try to replay what we’ve done, along with the should've and the fucking could've. So, no, you keep it. I have plenty of nightgowns.”
“But, what about this?” He picked up Mama’s Bible from the floor.
“Oh, that? I have a couple of more I keep in my room, too. You probably need it more than me. I’m sure there are a few verses to tame your guilt.”
I didn’t give him a chance to respond, nor replied to the stunned silence he portrayed. I sauntered up the stairs to the hallway without a care in the world. I just sinned against God and betrayed someone I called a friend, and I couldn’t feel remorseful. It was almost as if my wrong was meant to happen. Regaining my belief that love happened to the right people, especially when they’d suffered for so long. I deserved to love again and to be happy. What was wrong with that?
Just as I approached my bedroom, I glanced around the surroundings of the darkened hallway that comprised three bedrooms on one side and an attic door on the other. Then, catty-cornered from where I stood, a bedroom door was open. It was Calvin and Kat’s room. Inside was a young woman with several twists in her hair, sleeping peacefully. Beside her was the nightstand with an alarm clock. A photograph of their family and a teacup with a spoon laying on a saucer. I rolled my eyes, entered my room, and bore another grin. If only she knew.
I inhaled, reliving what had happened earlier, and exhaled the lingering aftershock of his passion. The balminess still resided within, so I began caressing the mark of his trails. I started with my lips, then to my rigid nipple, and opened where his manhood entered. Even my clitoris was still thriving. Yet, among the perfect storybook of emotions, Kat’s image had brought everything to a halt. That was okay. See, after all, there could only be one woman in the end for one man. I loved my friend, but I loved her husband’s dick even more. Sorry, Kat. Someone must lose, and it won’t be me!
© Author Wildflower, 2017
Necé and Company Publications, LLC
AUTHOR WILDFLOWER asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved in all media. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author and/or publisher. e reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author and/or publisher.