Dedicated to Jpie1 for letting me take a stab at pinching her writing style without so much as a fight 
*****
I lie on the bed, still fuming two days after being knocked off my bike to the unforgiving tarmac. The pain’s more or less gone, replaced with a dull ache but I still can’t really move my knees or elbows properly, both arms and legs so stiff I might as well be in a cast. I haven’t been much fun to live with I know, but you’ve been amazing, patient and tolerant far beyond any reasonable limit. The door opens and you walk in, and in my private world of anger it takes a moment for the floor length leather jacket to register in my mind. Without a word you let it slip to the ground, revealing a black lace teddy that compliments your perfect pale skin beautifully. Without a word you carefully slide yourself over me, settle down beside. Gently, oh so gently, you rest your fingers on my bare chest, and despite myself I feel my heart beat faster at your touch.
Gradually you start to move, a light touch, ethereal, but no dream and a smile tugs at my lips for the first time in what seems like forever. Sliding your hands up my sides and into the hollows of my underarms you increase your teasing, ticklish touch slightly, enough to guarantee a smile as you lean forward and kiss the path your fingers took. Your warm lips have my heart yearning for more, even as that soft, thick mane of dark hair teases and caresses my chest. Your fingers finally find the perfect tempo, plucking notes of laughter at will from my body like a master pianist, but never enough to make me squirm and, in so doing, cause pain.
Down your fingers roam, over my ribs, slowing slightly to maintain the consistency of your touch, your mouth pausing in its journey to nibble my neck and ears, pulse pounding at your touch. Fingers sliding over, across my belly, skilfully skirting the still tender graze above my right hip, tongue dancing over my ribs, across the top of my stomach and down the other side. My laughter is a constant now, filling the room with a low rumble of background noise as my body comes fully alive again. A single caress on my crotch makes me groan and twist to meet her, only to be brought down again as the pain starts again, a subtle reminder only but promising so much more if I continue.
You slide up, hands wrapping around me, pulling yourself close and moulding yourself to my awkward enforced position. A single kiss, tender, passionate, a reminder of what awaits once my body mends itself, and I know that only now, with you, am I truly whole anymore, willingly sharing my mind, body and soul with you now and forever. More, the look in your eyes shows that revelation in you as well, and peace washes over me, and for the first time in days, I can finally rest.
********
Two things that need to be said on this one. First, and most important, huge thanks to Jpie1 for giving me permission to make a (really poor) attempt at ripping off her stunning style of writing, though I really haven’t done it justice here so go read, oh, everything she’s posted here, I can’t possibly pick just one to recommend.
The second is an apology. Sadly the opening line of this story is true, other than the two days bit. Even sadder (for me at least) the rest of it is fiction. I’m writing this to take my mind off the many holes in knees, arms and elbows and I’m afraid it’s not up to what I’d consider my normal standard, but considering it was typed one-handed (the right won’t bend to get to the keyboard, one guess as to whether I’m left or right handed), it’s not that bad. Sorry for dropping my ‘therapy’ on you guys, I’ll make up for it soon as.
*****
I lie on the bed, still fuming two days after being knocked off my bike to the unforgiving tarmac. The pain’s more or less gone, replaced with a dull ache but I still can’t really move my knees or elbows properly, both arms and legs so stiff I might as well be in a cast. I haven’t been much fun to live with I know, but you’ve been amazing, patient and tolerant far beyond any reasonable limit. The door opens and you walk in, and in my private world of anger it takes a moment for the floor length leather jacket to register in my mind. Without a word you let it slip to the ground, revealing a black lace teddy that compliments your perfect pale skin beautifully. Without a word you carefully slide yourself over me, settle down beside. Gently, oh so gently, you rest your fingers on my bare chest, and despite myself I feel my heart beat faster at your touch.
Gradually you start to move, a light touch, ethereal, but no dream and a smile tugs at my lips for the first time in what seems like forever. Sliding your hands up my sides and into the hollows of my underarms you increase your teasing, ticklish touch slightly, enough to guarantee a smile as you lean forward and kiss the path your fingers took. Your warm lips have my heart yearning for more, even as that soft, thick mane of dark hair teases and caresses my chest. Your fingers finally find the perfect tempo, plucking notes of laughter at will from my body like a master pianist, but never enough to make me squirm and, in so doing, cause pain.
Down your fingers roam, over my ribs, slowing slightly to maintain the consistency of your touch, your mouth pausing in its journey to nibble my neck and ears, pulse pounding at your touch. Fingers sliding over, across my belly, skilfully skirting the still tender graze above my right hip, tongue dancing over my ribs, across the top of my stomach and down the other side. My laughter is a constant now, filling the room with a low rumble of background noise as my body comes fully alive again. A single caress on my crotch makes me groan and twist to meet her, only to be brought down again as the pain starts again, a subtle reminder only but promising so much more if I continue.
You slide up, hands wrapping around me, pulling yourself close and moulding yourself to my awkward enforced position. A single kiss, tender, passionate, a reminder of what awaits once my body mends itself, and I know that only now, with you, am I truly whole anymore, willingly sharing my mind, body and soul with you now and forever. More, the look in your eyes shows that revelation in you as well, and peace washes over me, and for the first time in days, I can finally rest.
********
Two things that need to be said on this one. First, and most important, huge thanks to Jpie1 for giving me permission to make a (really poor) attempt at ripping off her stunning style of writing, though I really haven’t done it justice here so go read, oh, everything she’s posted here, I can’t possibly pick just one to recommend.
The second is an apology. Sadly the opening line of this story is true, other than the two days bit. Even sadder (for me at least) the rest of it is fiction. I’m writing this to take my mind off the many holes in knees, arms and elbows and I’m afraid it’s not up to what I’d consider my normal standard, but considering it was typed one-handed (the right won’t bend to get to the keyboard, one guess as to whether I’m left or right handed), it’s not that bad. Sorry for dropping my ‘therapy’ on you guys, I’ll make up for it soon as.
