Unfinished. Literally.

I had it and now it's gone. I might return to it.

----

It had been a long day. All I wanted to do was come home, get undressed and take a long bath. My work keeps me in the office all sorts of odd hours, but by some miracle I managed to escape at a relatively early hour.

I balanced my briefcase and bag containing way-too-expensive-but-I'm-worth it lotion as I rifled through my purse for my keys. I turned the key and used my hip to bump the door open the rest of the way. I strode in and tossed my shit on the table, anxious to get my evening of relaxation underway.

I had just kicked off my shoes and stood upright when all of a sudden there a hand wrapped itself violently around my hair, a kick to the back of my knees sent me buckling to the ground, I shoved forward but the hand held fast, allowing me no room for escape. I tried to turn to get a look at the person causing this to happen, my stomach was flipping violently and after a moment's thought I realized it wasn't from fear, but from arousal.

Disgusted with myself I opened my mouth to scream, but another hand clamped over my mouth and my frustration was palpable as I lunged forward once more, my scream muffled into the stranger's hand as I was pulled back.

The grip on my hair loosened and I attempted to roll to the side, only to be yolked roughly onto my back. I glared upwards, my eyes taking in the sight that stood smirking before me. I faltered, my jaw gaped open as I struggled to form words.

"Y..y...y...you.."

The man nodded, his eyes dancing dangerously.

"Yes. Me."

I struggled to sit up, my mind racing through my day as I kept my eyes locked on him. He loomed closer and I jumped up quickly, my shock now turned to anger as I realized I backed myself into a corner. The man closed in and pressed his body against mine, deftly he grabbed hold of my wrists and pinned them above me.

"You know" he murmured as he pressed his mouth to my ear. "You shouldn't walk around with such an attitude all the time." Lazily he pressed his thumbs against my wrists, the pressure causing my palms to involuntarily unclench. I gritted my teeth as he moved both thumbs to my palms and circled slowly. He chuckled as he watched me react, his mouth glided across my jawline as I struggled to turn my head away.

"What's the matter? Didn't think I had the balls to follow you home?" He pressed his hips against mine and I could feel through our fabrics that he was as excited as I was struggling not to be.

I shivered and replied with a choked breath, "No. I always knew you did. I just never thought you were man enough to take to a challenge."

He pulled his mouth away from mine, his eyes searched my own as an amused smile played upon his lips. Quickly he pulled me back from the wall, his grip tight on my wrist as he pulled it behind my back and against his chest. Roughly he shoved me forward, leading us towards the living room.

"I'm always up for a challenge, dear." He replied, his free hand curved around my hip, my abdomen exposed from my shirt riding up. "The problem is that you aren't that much of one." He curled his fingers inward, tightening his grip on my wrist as I squirmed and fought a wave of laughter that threatened to break through my resolve.

"Don't DO that!" I gasped, struggling to keep my building desire buried.

"Do...what?" He chuckled, pulling us down onto the floor and

I see what you meant about fickle moods. But you've got a great intense setup here, and I'm sure you'll feel like coming back to it in the future. I'll wait

wow!!

Great beginning Crystal. You are definitely a gifted writer, please keep writing. I really enjoy your work.

This is a great start. Come back and finish it if, and only if, you really want to.

Moar plz?

Just so everyone knows, Crystal and I discussed my adding-on something after she posted this up and got stuck. I don't mess with another author's work without permission or a request.

And I added in ONE word into your text Jo, just so my segment would actually make sense. I realized she was never in a bar after finishing my part (I don't know what made me think that) and so had to add in "All I wanted to do was drink, come home, get undressed and take a long bath."

Hope ya don't mind. After this it's your turn again.

Regular Font: Moi
Italics: CrystalLight


The false hope in me said, “I’m getting better.” To all my family and friends it would say, “No really, I’m fine.”
Over the phone, depending on who was on the other line I’d have a practiced set of back-pocketed responses to choose from:

“Seriously, I haven’t felt this good in months.”
“I’m kinda sorta interested in somebody else right now anyway.”
“I really couldn’t care less if she’s dating.”

And every once in a while over the phone I’d hear:

“I think you’ve already used that one.”

Truth is it took me four, maybe five months before I decided if I was going to do this it would have to start from the inside out.
Maxing out my credit cards to replace all her empty spaces wasn’t helping. The bedsheets we’d picked out. The plates, pots, pans. All the somethings that meant everything and nothing all at once.
The little things.
But throwing shit out wasn’t the answer.
New paintings in place of old photographs was just tacky. Picking up smoking to mask the left-over smell of her favorite lotion just made it hurt to breathe.
No more false stops and starts. No more promises that I knew were already broken before I’d even made them.
From the inside out is the only way change ever really happens. I started with everything routine, everything old and known, and I fucked it all up.
I did this on purpose.

It had been a long day. All I wanted to do was drink, come home, get undressed and take a long bath. My work keeps me in the office all sorts of odd hours, but by some miracle I managed to escape at a relatively early hour.
I balanced my briefcase and bag containing way-too-expensive-but-I'm-worth it lotion as I rifled through my purse for my keys. I turned the key and used my hip to bump the door open the rest of the way. I strode in and tossed my shit on the table, anxious to get my evening of relaxation underway.
I had just kicked off my shoes and stood upright when all of a sudden a hand wrapped itself violently around my hair, a kick to the back of my knees sent me buckling to the ground, I shoved forward but the hand held fast, allowing me no room for escape. I tried to turn to get a look at the person causing this to happen, my stomach was flipping violently and after a moment's thought I realized it wasn't from fear, but from arousal.
Disgusted with myself I opened my mouth to scream, but another hand clamped over my mouth and my frustration was palpable as I lunged forward once more, my scream muffled into the stranger's hand as I was pulled back.
The grip on my hair loosened and I attempted to roll to the side, only to be yolked roughly onto my back. I glared upwards, my eyes taking in the sight that stood smirking before me. I faltered, my jaw gaped open as I struggled to form words.

"Y..y...y...you.."

The man nodded, his eyes dancing dangerously.

"Yes. Me.”

She wanted more aggressive she said. A little rougher she said. I said sure but it still wasn’t enough she said.
So I made sure to change that.
Everything old, everything routine, everything about me something and someone else now. Someone new.
Someone different.
Better.
The bars she hung out at were my bars now. Her friends had become my friends without her knowing it.
I knew where she lived. I knew where she worked.
I remember how she liked it.

I struggled to sit up, my mind racing through my day as I kept my eyes locked on him. He loomed closer and I jumped up quickly, my shock now turned to anger as I realized I backed myself into a corner. The man closed in and pressed his body against mine, deftly he grabbed hold of my wrists and pinned them above me.

The guy on the stool didn’t even ask for ID. We knew each other’s names by now. He let me in. I looked around.
Found you.

"You know" he murmured as he pressed his mouth to my ear. "You shouldn't walk around with such an attitude all the time."

I watched you go through your now usual after-work routine:

Sit, wait, flirt. Smile, accept a drink, flirt some more and then hand out some faked phone number that wasn’t yours if he didn’t whisper what you wanted to hear in your ear.
Too passive. Too gentle. Too nice.
I know your type.
Change happens from the inside out. Everything about me, new. The everythings I want to do to you now.
You have no idea.

Lazily he pressed his thumbs against my wrists, the pressure causing my palms to involuntarily unclench. I gritted my teeth as he moved both thumbs to my palms and circled slowly. He chuckled as he watched me react, his mouth glided across my jawline as I struggled to turn my head away.

All the would’ves, could’ves, should’ves but never acted on’s all left behind. The missed moments between us. The glances, the smiles and smirks and beckoning manicured index fingers...
I’m making up for lost time.
You’ll see.

"What's the matter? Didn't think I had the balls to follow you home?" He pressed his hips against mine and I could feel through our fabrics that he was as excited as I was struggling not to be.
I shivered and replied with a choked breath, "No. I always knew you did. I just never thought you were man enough to take to a challenge."

I missed these lips of hers. Her shape, these hips and this scent of hers. What it feels like to be the cause of somebody else’s heart to beat faster.
Before right now I never knew that all you’d wanted me to do with all that fight of yours was just to take it.
Double it up with my own.
Use both against you so you wouldn’t stand a chance.
I love it when you try.

He pulled his mouth away from mine, his eyes searched my own as an amused smile played upon his lips. Quickly he pulled me back from the wall, his grip tight on my wrist as he pulled it behind my back and against his chest. Roughly he shoved me forward, leading us towards the living room.

I catch your reflection in a full-length mirror propped against a wall in your living room.
The flash of excitement in your eyes says, “Finally.”
It says, “Where did THIS come from?”
It says, “Fuck.”

"I'm always up for a challenge, dear." He replied, his free hand curved around my hip, my abdomen exposed from my shirt riding up. "The problem is that you aren't that much of one."

You twist your body away from mine, shouting out as you realize I no longer second-guess letting you go.
Everything about me, new.
I know you’re tougher than this.
Come on.
I wait for you to have to twist back on your own to make the pain stop. You slam back into me full force and groan upon impact.
You stamp your feet on the floor. Shake the hair out of your eyes and throw a hissy fit.
My free hand sliding up your shirt again. You look down, shouting at me, cursing at me and then you squeal.
I missed this sound. I missed what it feels like to make somebody else shake from the outside in and right back out again.
My fingers remember exactly where to go and the New Me knows when you’ve had enough and you’re far from it.
My lips, buried in your hair from behind. My body pressed against yours. The fingers of my free hand wrapped around your stomach, keeping you in place with nothing but gentleness.
Soft, slow little slides of my fingertips against the smooth taut skin of what’s underneath your shirt.
Every faint brush-across making you breathe in deep.
Deeper.
Every lazy stroke becoming harder and making you breathe out with everything you’ve been fighting to hold back.
Your body squirms, writhes against mine. Your legs nearly failing you, buckling at the knees before you catch yourself.
I missed the effect this has on you. The gift I take from you and give right back and use against you.
Overpower you.
You can fight all you want but you’re just making it worse and I know you know that. I remember how you like it.
Things like that you don’t forget.
And this time, I promise, I won’t stop.

He curled his fingers inward, tightening his grip on my wrist as I squirmed and fought a wave of laughter that threatened to break through my resolve.

I scratch, gently. I hear and feel and learn what does what for you and match you stroke for gasp.
My fingers move up and your chest expands.
You moan inward, deeply, hold your breath.
And then scream.
I dig into your sides and you pummel against me. Shaking yourself against my grip. I squeeze your hips and can’t help laugh as you twitch and squirm, doubling over in

"Don't DO that!" I gasped, struggling to keep my building desire buried.

I stop.

"Do...what?" He chuckled, pulling us down onto the floor and

“Do this?” And I used both hands now, squeezed both of her hips and watched her lurch up at me, playfully pounding at me with both of her fists.
I watch, closely. I catch her wrists, get a good grip. I smile right back into her own and watch it fade, watch the expression over her face change as I slowly wrestle her arms up above her head.
Her legs behind me kicking at the floor. Her head shaking from left to right. Chest, rising up and then falling.
I tighten my grip around her pulse, wait for her blood to slow and watch her hands relax against their will all over again.
The strength drained from her arms.
“Dirty trick.” She snarls. “Where’d you learn that?” And I just smile back at her.
“It’s been a while.”

EDIT: Damnit. What's with the wall of texts? Where'd the paragraph...ugh. I'm going to play Guitar Hero.

Gah! You sure know how to set the bar.

You are amazing. Thank youuuuuu!

*begins adding*

I am in heaven! Two of my favorite authors collaborating, Crystal starting the story, and Mr. De Sade finishing it up! If Dave and Annie would pitch in a part a piece, I would be in hog heaven!

One question though: What is hog heaven?

Loved the story! Work together more often!

Amazing. Captivating. I want moar. Hurry, plz.

Beautiful, compelling story. It really captures how tickling is a microcosm of the whole dynamic of dominance and submission.

Terrific work. Your writing styles fit together really well. I hope there is (a lot) more to come.

CrystalLight said:

*begins adding*

Click to expand...

Jan 2008. *still waiting*