Maria pulled a chair in front of the dressing table. One of her hands reached her cheek and moved to her lips. A memory from this afternoon suddenly flashed through her mind. Her face burning up, and her cheeks blushing red.

Since she turned fifteen, she had already kissed so many boys or even adults, toying with them and never committing to any relationship. She treated them as tools to get whatever she wanted, even losing her virginity from her math teacher to get straight A’s the whole year. But this time, it’s a different kiss.

Maria closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. She flopped onto the chair and let her hands fall to her sides. Her mind clung to the kissing scene that had just happened this afternoon. Suddenly, one of her hands reached to her chest and fondle her breast. The sensation of excitement filled her mouth, making her gasp for air.

Maria was startled by her own reaction. She jolted from the chair, and her eyes were wide open. She stopped fondling her breast, looking at her hand that was still on her chest. Her eyes stared blankly, as if she couldn’t believe what she just did. However, it didn’t stop her at all; it excited her more.

This time, she lay back comfortably in the chair, lifted one of her legs, and placed it on the dressing table. She looked in the mirror and saw herself sitting in the chair with a lifted dress, revealing her underwear. She curved her lips, feeling satisfied with what she saw.

Before she closed her eyes, she licked her other hand until it was all wet and slid it inside her underwear. Her hand actively moving on the area while the other keeps fondling her breast.

Now, she isn’t just thinking about the kiss. In her mind, she saw the person kneeling before her, playing with her breast and licking her intimate core. That scene gives her more excitement than before. Her face is blushing, and her body moves, following the movement of her finger.

Maria opened her eyes. She is staring into the mirror. She is not alone anymore. That person is there, wearing the same dress she wore this afternoon. Her hand tangled with the hair of that person, and she began to moan, calling her name.

“Jocelyn,” she said, almost whispering. The more she got excited, the faster her body moved.

She unbuttoned her dress with the other hand, gave it a lick before sliding it inside. She can feel her breasts getting harder. In the mirror she saw Jocelyn, licking her breast and sucking her nipples.

“Jocelyn,” she called the name again.

As the sensation is getting more intense, she opens her legs wider and gently slides her middle finger inside. She moved it slowly in and out twice before she slid another finger in. Maria placed her thumb on the core and pressed it hard.

Now all of her body filled with a warm sensation. She squints her eyes harder and pushes her body back, her feet gripping the edge of the table. The surge of pleasure floods through her body and mind, making her legs shake.

“Ah, Jocelyn!” she moaned loudly.

The chair loses its stability and falls backward. Maria hits her head, grunting on the floor. Now she is back to reality. She pulls her hand from her pants, dropping it on the floor.

Maria, you stupid girl,” she scolds herself and chuckles. “This is why you shouldn’t play truth or dare with a roulette,” she adds.

***

Copyright © 2024 Verso de Medianoche. All rights reserved.

Credit:

1. This article originally published at medium.com exclusively for member only: https://medium.com/@versodmwriter/seductive-memory-100a4408256e

2. Photo by Diovana Papen from Pexels: https://www.pexels.com/photo/sensual-woman-sitting-with-crossed-legs-near-7081752/

Note:

This is the first time I write erotica. No intention to make it all like this, just happened I guess.

If you like the story, please give a like or repost. One or two feedbacks are appreciated. Follow my account or subscribed to get more content you might like.

Against the wall, we hold the gun

Bewitched with the red satin drape

The patron began the vigilance

Scouting the gate to nirvana

Kneel on the sand, wash by the wave

Bussing the bits, soothe the wall

Reach the fruitless bosom to taste

Cast with substantial delicacy

Dripping water blow the echo

Peculiar whisper and rather enticing

Brushing my ear, poach my line

Dragging me to the race

Raised a loaded gun, put me on guard

Chase by the unknown, enchanted the wall

Run and run to the deepest den

Crawling under the booth

Move around, swing the gun

Shaken sand captive my body

Blow vigorous vein, hook it

Gushing out as lightning

Blast handgun drizzle on sap of conundrum

***

Note: This poem originally published at vocal.media: https://vocal.media/poets/hers-ggh5bc0a6f. And will be published in my upcoming book: [Más]Caraing

Credit: Photo by John Rocha from Pexels: https://www.pexels.com/photo/grayscale-photo-of-naked-woman-230986/

The death opened the last letter left in the table. "Ugh, not another junkies to collect" he said unmotivated. He snapped his finger and immediately transported him to the next victim room.

He saw a young guy lied down on the floor with a syringe in his arm, the young guy is already dead. He scanned the room and saw another guy that looked exactly like the dead one. They guy cruled up on the floor, in the corner of the room. His arm warped his leg and his body trembeled.

"Dude, what are you doing?" asked the death nonchalantly. The young guy looked up. His face looked scared and his eyes teared up.

"H..he..help me" he said with a shaky voice. The death didn't responed. He looked at him in disbelieve and let out a big sigh. Seeing the response from the death, the young guy getting more nervouse and begin to cry.

The death grow impatient, "dude, you already dead!" said the death stating the fact to the young guy. The young guy felt deeply in shock and fainted. The death covered his face with one of his hand. "I should quit sooner" he said to himself. The death took the young man's arm and snapped his finger.

Credit: Photo by Valentine Angel Fernandez from Pexels

Inside a small motel room, a tall, grey-haired man is fixing his pants. He walks to the mirror next to the bathroom and takes out a small cologne, spraying it on his neck.

"Honey, could you be sweet and hand me the towel?" says someone else inside the bathroom.

The tall man picks up the towel that lies on the bed. He enters the bathroom, now filled with white steam from the hot water. He hands the towel to the person behind the shower curtain. "How many times do I have to tell you, don't call me honey!" says the man with an angry face.

The person behind the curtain accepts the towel. "Oh, come now. Why are you so upset over a pet name?" he says while wrapping his body with the white towel. He abruptly opens the curtain and says, "I call all my clients honey, anyway. You are not that special."

He pushes the tall man away and steps out of the bath. Then, he cleans the mirror from the steam. When the mirror becomes clear, he notices there is a bit of a trace of semen on the towel.

"Holy shit, Roy! This is not a clean towel!" he says angrily. He takes off the towel and throws it at the tall man's face, Roy. Now he is standing naked in front of Roy, placing his hands on his hips.

Roy catches the towel angrily and throws it to the floor. He glares at the naked man in front of him. Suddenly, he grabs the naked man's face and pushes him to the wall. "Don't you fucking dare to throw stuff at me! You piece of shit!" he shouts at the naked man's face, pointing his finger. The naked man hisses, feeling the pain on his head and his back. One of his hands tries to remove Roy's hand from his face, while the other tries to push Roy's body away.

Suddenly, there is a noise of someone opening the bedroom door. Both of them stop their quarrel and look at each other in silence. They begin to communicate with their eyes, asking if one of them has a clue at all.

One of Roy's hands reaches for the doorknob, but the naked guy stops him from opening the door. He throws a glare at Roy and shakes his head. Roy glares back at him and signals for the naked guy to move away with his head. The naked guy follows him meekly.

Roy opens the door slowly, trying not to make any noise. Sensing an opportunity, the person behind the door kicks it harder. The door hits Roy's head, and he screams, "Agh!" One of his hands covers his forehead. Roy takes one step back, and now the door is wide open.

"What the fuck is going on?" asked the blonde woman on the other side of the room. She looked distressed, arriving at the motel with messy hair, a big sweater, and dirty sweatpants. One of her hands is carrying a baseball bat, and the other hand is holding her phone. Her face shows disbelief—a shocked woman who just discovered her fiancé and his naked son inside a motel room.

"Claire?" asked Roy to the blonde woman. Claire takes a step back and raises the baseball bat, her eyes glaring fiercely at Roy. "Don't you dare to come any closer!" she warns. Roy raises his hands slowly into the air, signaling that he won't do any harm.

Claire looked around inside the room. The bed was messy, indicating it had already been used. There were some sex toys on the bed. Then she walked to the bedside and found a woman's clothes: a red skirt, a black crop top, and black boots next to it. She glanced at her phone, checking the image still showing on the screen, her fiancé kissing someone wearing the exact same clothes now lying on the floor. Then she looked up and noticed there was a check and gift box on the bedside.

The naked guy took the towel on the floor and quickly wrapped it around his hips. He slowly walked out of the bathroom and approached Claire. He touched her shoulder tenderly, but his movement scared her. In response, Claire swung the baseball bat hard and hit his head. The guy fainted right in front of her.

Claire dropped the baseball bat and covered her mouth with her hand. Her body dropped to the floor. Roy saw that as an opportunity. He immediately took his wallet and his jacket, then rushed out of the room.

Credit: Photo by Dominique BOULAY from Pexels

Sometimes, I never give my real name at all. Even to a friend of mine. Not that I hate my name. In fact, I love my name so much and I think my name without my body or my life wouldn't mean anything.

But who am I? What am I doing in this life?

Those questions was really matter for me until the day it becomes nothing. One day, I woke up and I realise, I've been thinking to much of what people said to me. I keep saying, that "I wouldn't care of any words that come out from stranger" or "I'll take any ctirsism as self-improvement". But I lied. I lied hardly and deeply to myslef.

I heard everything, from behind or front, and far or close. All those words are ment to me. From the people that I know to the most strangerst person that not even know one of my name. And of course, the most painful one is from the person that really close to you.

I couldn't ignore anymore. Those words grow into a pain that rooted inside me. Turn into the sharpest blade inside in me.

So, the next time people ask me to describe myself, I would just give them a smile and tell them the story they would like to hear. Beacause it won't matter anymore if I'm an angle or a devil, I couldn't change the story that they already believed in their mind.

credit: Photo by cottonbro studio from Pexels

Life keeps going on

While I'm sitting on the floor

Watching the mirror

Touching the skin on my skeleton

The soul has gone, yet return with the limb

Bringing back a broken vessel

Clothed with white tape

Tinted with spit and splat on my lap

Sudden knock come on my door

The phone rang non stop in the next room

Call for the missus from the next line

And I

Gracely run

Showed off my patched vessel

A bright soul with no color or tint

Natasha sitting on the floor while holding her legs together. Her hands getting cold and her body shaking. Then she closed her eyes as she prayed, "God, please, please, please. Don't let it happen. If you are real, please, let my wish come true".

Three minutes have passed since Natasha was battling with her mind. She took a deep breath, pulling all her courage and reaching for the pregnancy test on top of the sink. Her face turned surprised, and her eyes grew wide. The result turns negative. She screams and laughs so hard, "thank you!" she said to herself.

Please read this note before you reach the poem below: I would like to share a poem that I wrote for my upcoming book [Más]Caraing. Since I don't see any rules in this challenge, I assume this is appropriate. However, if it's not, I'm really sorry. I don't mean to promote anything, I just want to share and get some feedbacks.

This poem still included in my book. I'll make sure to add the credit where this poem was pubslihed before.

Thank you.

Please, enjoy the poem.

***

It was circle

A shadow trapped in

But it was circle

Do I know when it’s dark?

Or was it dark before?

Do I know when it becomes dark?

Nobody even knows there was a light within

But I know it was circle

Do you think it is a circle?

I can’t see where it is

The point