and i was specifically told not to--
i shall post.
the pumpkin pies are cooling,
the crumb-topped, deep dish apple is in,
and the french silk is ready to go.
...my mouth is watering already!!
i'm a rebel.
i guess that's the only reason i'm here right now...
i need to run to the store (if there's one open)
to get dishwasher detergent.
hubby took the kids to a movie...
can't wait to hear how that went.
and my FUCKING post counter has been at 699 for over a week.
and i was sooooooo excited to make a big deal out of my 700th post.
now, i have no idea which one it even was.
and today is the one year anniversary of fantasy friday.
so i should write one.
but there's not time.
instead, i'll repost one of my favorites:
standing in the rain, i wonder if you'll come.
i dumped you last week, and this call...
well, this call you probably shouldn't have answered.
but you did.
and here i stand...
watching the headlights flick past me, i count them until i get to yours.
you pull over, splashing me.
an asshole, as ever.
i close my umbrella, and collapse into the seat.
your tires throw up gravel as you dart back out into traffic, barely waiting for my door to close.
the music is loud.
my stomach starts to wonder what the hell i'm doing.
i don't look at you, you don't talk to me--
you drive faster.
when the car stops, we both sit for a moment, the raindrops drowning out the sound of our breathing.
i start to speak, but your door flies open, then slams closed and my thought turns to a sigh.
you open my door and offer me a hand--such an ironic move, so out of character.
my face begins to take the shape of defiance, defensiveness...disgust.
you pull me out into the rain, dropping my hand and walking off into the dark.
I follow, obediently.
you don't bother with lights, but we are inside.
i only know this because the air is dry, though the rain has done its job to soak us.
i put a hand to my hair out of habit...though in a darkness so solid it doesn't matter.
before i can breathe in again, you have pressed me against the wall--
all of you against all of me, your warmth coming through our wet clothes.
your teeth graze my neck and i melt.
the smell of your wet leather jacket is its own kind of aphrodisiac and i reach for your face.
pulling it down to mine, i remind you that i made the call.
i told you to be here.
you kiss me back and i am lost...
your hands struggle against my drenched clothes, which are keeping you from my skin.
buttons pop off, seams are stretched...
you pin my hands and whisper the first words of the night--
you are mine
it comes out a snarl, a growl--hard and possesive.
...and sends a thrill from my toes to my lips--
i arch into you, my arms struggling against your hold.
you grip my wrists more tightly, but meet my arching body.
i let out a groan as we meet, all the muscles in my body tightening.
your face is next to mine, scratching me.
i want to kiss you softly, tell you i love you.
instead, i say--
i belong to no one.
you step back, and with one hand turn me around, sliding back into place before i've even braced myself against what feels like a couch.
i gasp as your hand comes down on me.
i smile into the cushions, knowing you're as glad as i am that i called.
to all you non-americans--happy thursday.
to any americans who are reading this--hope you had a lovely feast,
don't forget the pilgrims and indians.
fuck you all.