She posed seductively on the worn, wooden platform at the front of the room, her bare skin painted golden by the warm afternoon sun. Blond hair cascaded down her back in thick voluptuous waves, pounds of golden silk a man could get lost in for days. Bright red lipstick cut a thick gash across her alabaster face, her mouth firmly set, sending a clear Fuck Off message to me and the rest of the world. Her icy blue eyes pierced my soul with a ferocity that would stop a charging rhino. She looked away, slowly, bored. She was as cool as she was hot.
I dragged a bettered chair as close to the stage as I could get. I had told myself on the way up that dark, narrow staircase that I would resist her charms. But this dame had an animal magnetism that drew me to her like a beggar to a feast. I was enchanted. Her eyes flicked over me again, her perfectly plump lip turning up with a delicate sneer. My heart raced, pounding out a calypso rhythm against my ribs. She would be a challenge. No question. But this was a game I was wiling to play. Win or lose. Both were the same to me.
She switched poses, the feline muscles beneath her skin rippling in the dim light as she tipped her Fedora with the muzzle of her piece. It was a small gun, petite and feminine. Oozing sexuality. Just like her. I inched closer, leaning forward to taste her breath as it escaped her lips.
She looked at me then, her eyes like tiny daggers, sharp, dangerous. A smile curled on her lips as she lured me in. I was putty in her hands and she knew it. She leaned toward me, her large, firm breasts bulging against the lace of her bodice. Sweat broke out on my top lip. I relished the salty flavor, imagining the sensual taste of her in my mouth.
Her lips parted seductively as she lifted her arm, the pistol making a slow evocative rise from her side until it pointed straight at me. I couldn’t keep my eyes from that mouth, those lips, as her fingers curled around the trigger. I knew the shot was meant for me. But I didn’t care. I was lost, drowning in the promise of her body.
The shot knocked me back in the chair, a crimson stain spreading slowly across my chest. And still I couldn’t turn away. She lifted the barrel to her mouth and gently blew away a wisp of smoke, a last act of kindness, a final memory that I could carry with me into the darkness.
YOWZAH!!! Painting with words indeed - this is HOT!! :) Well done lady!!!
Posted by: Katie | January 25, 2009 at 09:27 AM