While I’m rolling around ideas in my head about what I want
to write here I figured I’d take the lame way out and post the 10 things most
people don’t know about me.
1.
I was one point off of a perfect score when I
took the ASVAB
2.
When I was younger I held mid to high level
belts in four different martial arts…no black belts though.
3.
I used to dress up in armor and fight with
people with big padded wooden sticks
4.
Along with my engineering degree, I graduated
with three minors: nuclear sciences, mathematics and English (creative writing)
5.
The first time I saw my wife I thought, “That’s
the girl I’m going to marry.” And I did
6.
I’ve broken 19 bones in my body at various times
7.
I was almost arrested because of the Westie nuts
out of Topeka
8.
When my beard used to grow in it was red, and
I’m not a redhead. Now its mostly gray.
9.
In my professional life I let people
purposefully think that I’m far less intelligent than I am.
10.
When I sing karaoke, I stick with the 3 B’s, Bob
Seger, Billy Joel and Bon Jovi
What follows is a short story I entered in monthly contest
on a site for adult writers…it did not win.
Title:
Making an Impression
My teeth sunk into her flesh; into the only soft part of
her, the upper, upper inner thigh. Zoe hated it, or at least she pretended to
whenever I did it. As I took hold, my cheek brushed up against her and already
I felt the heat there, growing warmer every second that I held onto her.
“Damn it, it takes forever to heal when you do that.” She
bitched.
Zoe would not accept any kind of mark from me willingly. Oh,
it was fine for her to rake my skin with her nails. My back and ass had bore
more than a few bruises from her drumming heels when I gave her head. Her hair
was shorter than mine in tough-girl spikes that took her forever to tease up
until they were just so. She was my little fashionista, and the woman I thought
about sinking my teeth into every day.
She reached down to grab my hair and move me between her
legs instead of just being latched onto her like I was. History left me
prepared and I caught her wrist and pinned it to the bed.
“Fucker.” My girl cursed when thwarted and if I didn’t know
better I’d say she had spent time as a sailor.
I bit in more firmly and my teeth squinched into her as her
flesh submitted to my teeth. She groaned at the sensation and moved her other
hand down. I grabbed it and captured it as well.
It would have been easy for her to scissor her legs closed.
That she didn’t was why I know she only pretended to not like this occasional
play of ours. She could have easily raised her free leg and pushed against my
head to dislodge me. But she didn’t.
Instead her lips parted and her desire painted against my
cheek.
It was still too soon to let go, I wanted a perfect mark on
her. A true representation of me that would live upon her flesh until it
healed. One that only she could see, and remind her of me every time she did.
I’d shaved before coming to bed, so we slid together
smoothly, lip to cheek. She rolled her hips, much like she would when I turned
my neck and covered her. For that I loved her a little more. My strong girl
could never admit in words that she loved the marks too, but words are only the
least of our communication, or of our adoration. Body language meant more, and
her response was her gift to me. The roll of her body changed and I knew that
her head rolled along with her hips now, punctuating the message.
Zoe purred deep in her throat. I released my grip on her
thigh slowly, pulling my teeth from the divots that would bruise the pale
flesh. My tongue traced them and I smiled feeling the mark upon her. My tracery
brought out new noises from Zoe because she knew what came next.
Her.
I turned my neck and covered her with my mouth and began
making a new impression for my love.
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