Written with Soul

The stories found on this page are not always flowery or pretty. Expect for-adults-only content…sometimes base, sometimes raw, but always written with soul.

Velvet Verbosity's 100 Word ChallengeAn Anniversary Gift

He carefully unwrapped the third anniversary gift he'd purchased for his wife. "Yep," he said as the smell of new leather overwhelmed his senses. "This is great."

A primal urge compelled him to strip off his clothes. He pulled the bustier around his torso, the boning digging into his ribs, sucking the air from his lungs, and caving his belly in toward his hips.

When his wife opened the door she saw him standing there laced up in a black leather bustier, the neglected push-up bra revealing only a hairy chest. Stunned...he looked up, went limp, and she laughed.


6.3.2010  Sensible to Sensual  (Written for Magpie Tales, but I was too late.  ACK!)

Her butt sank into the soft mattress as she kicked off the black, sling-back heels. Just another pair of sensible shoes to go with her corporate uniform, she thought as she shrugged the fine, linen jacket from her shoulders, glad to be rid of the rigid vestment. Standing, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror. She walked to the mirror surveying her reflection pondering the two valuable lessons learned in her twenties. Develop a backbone so strong that not even the highest of high could bend it let alone break it, became an invaluable lesson that helped her climb the corporate ladder to success. The second lesson, never let her looks fade, was evident as she stood before the mirror.

With a wiggle of her hips, her skirt dropped to the floor and she kicked it across the room. A wave of an arm sent the blouse flying to the bed like a bluebird on wing. She released her hair from the soft chignon at the base of her neck, shaking out brunette tresses streaked with burnished gold. On her way to the bathroom, she reached behind, unhooked her bra and flung it to the side. Just before stepping into the steaming shower, she stepped out of utilitarian white panties.

Positioned beneath the liquid heat, she washed the day from the curves and crevices of her slender body. The water streamed in rivulets, dripping from hair plastered against her head. She looked up so the water would hit her full force in the face, cleansing her of presentations, lunch with clients, emails…emails…emails, and a never ending barrage of phone ringing. Grasping the razor she worked her way up each leg from well-formed ankle to lean thigh. She felt between her legs for stubble and in the wake of the razor left a small thatch of dark hair at the apex of her femininity.

She toweled herself off, creamed, lotioned, and powdered her body before drying her long hair straight creating a curtain on either side of her face. Seated naked at the make-up and perfume strewn vanity, she began the transformation. With a black pencil, she lined her green eyes flecked with gold and then brushed her eyelids the colors of a jazz bar when smoke from cigars and cigarettes added layers of beige, brown, and blue to the room. Long black lashes, curled and lacquered, flirted with her cheeks. A dusting of pale pink on high cheekbones added a blush of excitement to her face, as if she’d just climaxed in a burst of tingling sensations. With a flourish of hand she added the piece de la resistance that brought men to their knees…a moist, full mouth stained mind-blowing red. A whisper of perfume pulsed at her wrists, in the valley of her breasts, and behind each earlobe leaving a barely scented trail.

Laying out the evening’s regalia, she purveyed it with the eye of an art dealer searching for flaws. Everything in order, she pulled the red, satin, edged-in-black-lace garter belt up so it perched elegant on her jutting hip bones. Silk stockings slid one at a time up each leg. A quick adjustment and the stockings were snapped to the garters. She raised her arms and a black dress skimmed past pert breasts, hugging her hips and adding inches to her all ready long, shapely legs. The neckline plunged revealing enough cleavage without giving away the mystery of what lies beneath the silk fabric.

The earrings she chose caught the light like tiny fingers grasping at the colors of a rainbow. She pushed thin silver bangles one-by-one over her hand creating a musical jangle each time she moved her arm.

The transformation near complete, she whirled across the bedroom, tripping on the black workaday shoes. “No sensible shoes tonight,” she said aloud as she strapped on stiletto heels winking in patent leather red and then strutted into the navy blue night.