Posse in the Rain

Yul with pen; Rog with news.

Yul with pen . . .

I want to feel the warmth of your bow ply the waters of my eternal creation. I want to hear a passion atavistic, naked, raw, and taste the fruit of your labor as sincere as the salt in ocean spray; your arms rooted beside me as strapping mature oak, your contracting torso thoroughbred smooth and lean, and from the plunging anchor (bower) of your loins I feel as the depth of the sea, consuming that which is driven by that which is divine. My hips slap your hips like undulating midnight waves, warmth smacking warmth, as shadows dance under a full moon with sand in places sand shouldn't be. My mind crashes as surf upon heated whey as my fingers bury into your coaming delts. I . . .

Rog walked in his quarters, looked at Yul and then looked again. "Whatcha doing?" His tone abnormally flat.

"Nothing," said Yul, quickly putting away pen and paper.

"Nothing, huh."

"Yeah, nothing. What's up?"

"Von and Zoe. You should see the two of them. Or is it three of them. Like an old farmer who finds he's got one more Kawai than he thought and is afraid to ask for fear of it all being taken away."

"Hey Rog."

"Yeah baby?"

"Shut the frail up and come sit by me."

"Not now." Rog wasn't smiling.

Standing, Yul unzipped the front of her leather jacket, arched her feline back and tilted her head with eyes like saucers. Rog didn't budge. "Baby, is there something I need to know?" asked Yul, on the edge of a non manipulating pout.

"You could say that."

"Well?"

"Well, our little pregnant friend gots more to say than just a few warm fuzzy reminisces for an old hynerian."

Yul zipped up her jacket.

Rog dipped his head, his eyes looking as if from under a hat in the rain, a look Yul couldn't quite remember seeing before. Then he spoke as a ranger gathering a posse might. "Secure your shiott. We're heading back to Kulmyk and we ain't on no frailing rescue mission."

Yul paused. "When were you gonna tell me?"

"I just did."

Reviews

[AutumnStorm]

'sincere', that and 'pure' (not this chapter), them be melting words in context. In the same way as books are kept unfinished. I'm speechless at Yul, though like with someone else I know, it isn't entirely out of the blue that she would be able to write so eloquently, and passionately. The unzipping of her jacket and re-zipping, actions speaking her words, direct and immediate, is more the sort of thing that we have seen from her, whilst others have made use of this medium of writing or voicing in private thought, even now one cannot help wondering whether it remains unread by anyone but her and us, but even if it did, it would not remain unsaid, in a variety of ways. 'I love you' being one. Dear Rog, :-), that man evokes a smile even when he does not mean to. The way he words things, wherever he goes and however long that passes, he is someone who will never forget his roots, so much a part of him, of what makes him special and especially lovable. So, back to Kulmyk and Zoe has another tale to tell, no end of suspense. No end of enjoyment. And no end of wonder at the loveliness, here conveyed through Yul. Titles, I have failed to mention, that's where it starts, the drawing. Wonderful chapter. Waiting for the weekend.