Their tongues don't frighten me
I have known tongues that lie and linger
tongues that flap and roll
wave and wag
some of those tongues
only pretend to care
as they lick the salt
from my skin
I have no patience for mundane
it is not my style
I love the flash and sink
lift anchor and sail away rough waters
things or ideas and sometimes people
fail to move me to magic
they are sometimes dismissed
gently
move along there is nothing to see here
These hips have known hands
calloused
smooth
trembling
grab on hold tight
enjoy the roll and wiggle
navigate the waves
it will make sense in the morning
or it won't
there is no fear here
only tongues
and moving magic
and these hips
come closer
don't worry I don't bite
hard
unless you like that sort of thing
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Monday, November 08, 2010
Adventures in Cheyenne
1
This always happens. Why can’t I keep my hands to myself? Who am I kidding? I always have a choice. Always. I just don’t always make the right choices. It was her confident strut that did it. Women who walk like they own their feet are definitely my weakness. And I’ll be damned if they don’t know it. As much as I enjoy being caught in this down pour of beautiful and confident women, even I know seeing four of them at the same time, is asking for trouble. I’m sorry did I say asking? Begging. Begging for trouble.
“Call for you Cheyenne.” Denise screams over the intercom.
“You don’t have to yell Denise, you are quite loud enough. I almost fell out of my chair. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry, I’m still trying to get used to this thing. Cheyenne, it doesn’t make sense I can see you from my desk. I’m looking at you right now! An Intercom? If you ask me, it’s pretentious and pointless.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Your caller is still holding. Oh, wait.” She hits the intercom button and shouted, “Your caller is still holding.”
“Very funny.” I said, shaking my head.
“Thanks.” She smirks loudly over the intercom.
I answered the call and heard a voice I hadn’t heard in a while. Instantly I remembered the dress I designed for her. The way it hung on her delicate curves. Then the way it lay in a pile on my bedroom floor. I remember Mrs. Angelica Moreland and there’s nothing angelic about her. Our last encounter didn’t end badly; it just should have never started to begin with.
“What can I do for you today, Mrs. Moreland?”
“Mrs. Moreland? Are we back to formal now?” She asked.
“Business is formal, and since you are calling my office it must be about business. So what can I do for you?”
“Fine, I’ll play. Some business yes, but I wanted to catch up, you know, see how you’ve been. So, how are you?”
“I’m great. Building my own business has had its challenges but I’m holding my own. Lots of orders, so many in fact, that I had to hire a bigger staff.” I said proudly.
“That’s wonderful Cheyenne! I have to admit part of why I called you was because of the design you did for Jasmine. I saw the pictures in Elle. The dress was amazing. The way it fit her body, every part of her perfectly, I knew you spent a lot of time on her design. So, how was she?” She asked in a lecherous tone.
“I enjoyed working with her.” I replied completely professional.
“I bet you did.”
“Did you call for a real reason Angelica? I’m a little busy this morning.” I tried to sound as impatient as possible.
“ Fine. You’re no fun today. I need your services. Well the ones you provide when making beautiful clothing.”
“Those are the only services I offer, Angelica.”
“That’s disappointing, but I’m sure I can change your mind.” She cooed.
“Seriously, please, what do you want?”
“We’d be safer if we talked about my needs instead of what I want.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. It had been a year since I last saw Angelica, and she hasn’t changed a bit.
“ I need,” she continued, “an outfit for a charity event in May. I remember you need six months but surely four will suffice, plus I’m a longstanding customer.”
“I really do need the full six months. I have several designs I’m working on already. I don’t think I’ll be able to fit you in. Maybe you should come check out the designs I’ve already completed. I’m sure you will find something you like.”
“I don’t want a dress you made to fit some other woman’s body. I want you to make one for my body, my frame, my curves. If I wanted it off the rack I’d have gone to Macy’s!” she boomed.
“And if you’d have wanted me to make it you’d have called me two months ago. I can’t take another job right now. I’m sorry.” I motioned to Denise to interrupt me so I could excuse myself off the phone, but she kept putting her finger to her ear like she couldn’t hear me while pointing at the damn intercom. Note to self get rid of the fucking intercom.
“Cheyenne, please? Come see me. We can work something out.” She pleaded.
“How’s your husband Angelica?” I asked in a surly tone.
“Out of town, like I like him. Will you come see me?” She asked.
“ I’ll think about it. It was good hearing from you Angelica.” I hung up before she could reply.
I didn’t have time for this, but knowing Angelica the way I did, I knew she’d keep calling until I caved or she’d show up. That wasn’t going to happen.
This always happens. Why can’t I keep my hands to myself? Who am I kidding? I always have a choice. Always. I just don’t always make the right choices. It was her confident strut that did it. Women who walk like they own their feet are definitely my weakness. And I’ll be damned if they don’t know it. As much as I enjoy being caught in this down pour of beautiful and confident women, even I know seeing four of them at the same time, is asking for trouble. I’m sorry did I say asking? Begging. Begging for trouble.
“Call for you Cheyenne.” Denise screams over the intercom.
“You don’t have to yell Denise, you are quite loud enough. I almost fell out of my chair. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry, I’m still trying to get used to this thing. Cheyenne, it doesn’t make sense I can see you from my desk. I’m looking at you right now! An Intercom? If you ask me, it’s pretentious and pointless.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Your caller is still holding. Oh, wait.” She hits the intercom button and shouted, “Your caller is still holding.”
“Very funny.” I said, shaking my head.
“Thanks.” She smirks loudly over the intercom.
I answered the call and heard a voice I hadn’t heard in a while. Instantly I remembered the dress I designed for her. The way it hung on her delicate curves. Then the way it lay in a pile on my bedroom floor. I remember Mrs. Angelica Moreland and there’s nothing angelic about her. Our last encounter didn’t end badly; it just should have never started to begin with.
“What can I do for you today, Mrs. Moreland?”
“Mrs. Moreland? Are we back to formal now?” She asked.
“Business is formal, and since you are calling my office it must be about business. So what can I do for you?”
“Fine, I’ll play. Some business yes, but I wanted to catch up, you know, see how you’ve been. So, how are you?”
“I’m great. Building my own business has had its challenges but I’m holding my own. Lots of orders, so many in fact, that I had to hire a bigger staff.” I said proudly.
“That’s wonderful Cheyenne! I have to admit part of why I called you was because of the design you did for Jasmine. I saw the pictures in Elle. The dress was amazing. The way it fit her body, every part of her perfectly, I knew you spent a lot of time on her design. So, how was she?” She asked in a lecherous tone.
“I enjoyed working with her.” I replied completely professional.
“I bet you did.”
“Did you call for a real reason Angelica? I’m a little busy this morning.” I tried to sound as impatient as possible.
“ Fine. You’re no fun today. I need your services. Well the ones you provide when making beautiful clothing.”
“Those are the only services I offer, Angelica.”
“That’s disappointing, but I’m sure I can change your mind.” She cooed.
“Seriously, please, what do you want?”
“We’d be safer if we talked about my needs instead of what I want.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. It had been a year since I last saw Angelica, and she hasn’t changed a bit.
“ I need,” she continued, “an outfit for a charity event in May. I remember you need six months but surely four will suffice, plus I’m a longstanding customer.”
“I really do need the full six months. I have several designs I’m working on already. I don’t think I’ll be able to fit you in. Maybe you should come check out the designs I’ve already completed. I’m sure you will find something you like.”
“I don’t want a dress you made to fit some other woman’s body. I want you to make one for my body, my frame, my curves. If I wanted it off the rack I’d have gone to Macy’s!” she boomed.
“And if you’d have wanted me to make it you’d have called me two months ago. I can’t take another job right now. I’m sorry.” I motioned to Denise to interrupt me so I could excuse myself off the phone, but she kept putting her finger to her ear like she couldn’t hear me while pointing at the damn intercom. Note to self get rid of the fucking intercom.
“Cheyenne, please? Come see me. We can work something out.” She pleaded.
“How’s your husband Angelica?” I asked in a surly tone.
“Out of town, like I like him. Will you come see me?” She asked.
“ I’ll think about it. It was good hearing from you Angelica.” I hung up before she could reply.
I didn’t have time for this, but knowing Angelica the way I did, I knew she’d keep calling until I caved or she’d show up. That wasn’t going to happen.
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