Showing posts with label JFK Street. Show all posts
Showing posts with label JFK Street. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

"BUSINESS" TRIP - Part V - Hart's Desire


Breathless in the moonlight... Continued...


Under the ceiling of a black sky, billowy gray clouds danced with the illuminated orb and stars peeked through speckling the blackness with tiny golden glows. Time seemed to stand still. Their breath, slightly labored, fell into unison together while the breezes of the night whispered a wordless harmony of yearning around them.  
He looked beautiful in the moonlight. Short, dark, raven like, locks swaying in the light gentle wind as the intensity of his gaze riveted on her thick lashed eyes. He was helplessly mesmerized by her close proximity as he watched her trembled slightly with overwhelming anticipation. Her pulse aroused like thunderclaps reverberating through her veins as he leaned in and she felt the magic between them intensify. He tenderly ran his finger across her bottom lip and twisted his wrist to cup the soft, smooth flesh of her cheek.  Heat engulfed

Friday, March 11, 2011

BUSINESS TRIP - Part IV - Hart's Desire


Her sling backs tick away like an erratic clock on the concrete sidewalk as she takes short, quick strides to keep his pace. The neighborhood is filled with the warmth of history as if every building could tell a story.  Brownstones with amber hues in their windows, tall trees and street lights line the dark asphalt path. The sights reminiscent of her memories of walking through Brooklyn decades ago.  Somewhere between steps she noted that their fingers had stayed intertwined making her even more aware of how she ached for something far more intimate with him. The conversation was lighthearted and frisky.  Subjects scattered and jumped from one thing to another with no rhyme or reason.
“It’s a beautiful night.” 
“Agreed.” was his reply.
His short answer not bridging the conversation to a next topic. 

Monday, March 7, 2011

"Business" Trip - Part II

Ms. Jillian B. Hart



Shay's Pub, Beacon Hill... Continued...


The phone vibrates sightly in her hand, the movement that signals message sent.

Shifting again, attentive to the pulsing heated area between her thighs, once more very aware of the eclectic crowd in the pub.  The local scene felt warm an inviting. The mix of people and music was like a slice out the past, any bar, any town, any where you felt at home.  Like places we used to feel at home.  A place where it was easy to blend and just be part of the moment. She caught the bartenders glance and ran her finger around the rim of the glass.