Once Upon A Dream (2003)
As the old woman left, I waved goodbye and began to work on my assigned task. Retrieving the paint from the storage closet, I opened and stirred it and set out to paint the kitchen cabinets in a daffodil yellow. I was sitting on the floor, my mind wandering, with knowledge that I would be alone for the rest of the day. It was a two storied, well to do townhouse, in an equally well to do neighborhood, and the sunny day that began to unfold so brightly revealed just how clean this place really was. Stroke by stroke the yellow cabinets came to be, as I heard footsteps descend the staircase.
The old woman did not mention anyone else being there that day, which made me curious and concerned at the moment. I heard the footsteps come near, heading for the kitchen, while I remained hidden from view behind the counter. Quietly I observed a tall figure go for the refrigerator with her back turned towards me. It was a young woman with long bond and straight hair that fell past her shoulders, wearing a tight white t-shirt, and short red shorts that were equally tight around her hips, and nothing more save the morning breeze which came in through an open window. My presence remained unnoticed, though my curiosity continued to endure as eh leaned forward to reach the milk on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, leaving me staring behind her.
It was then tat the red shorts did their real work, ad it was then that I abandoned mine. I got up and went for the sink to wash my hands, and it wasn’t until I ran the water that the girl turned around with surprise.
“Ah, excuse me, but who are you?” she said a in a tone of indignation, with her full lips parted and pouty.
“The painter,” I replied indifferently.
“Oh,” her eyes softened and went up and down my body, scanning, “I didn’t know you’d be here so early.”
“That was the arrangement I made with, I assume, your mother?” I once again answered with obviousness.
“Yes, that’s my mom,” she spoke while leaving, here feet moving back up the stairs whence she came. The jug of milk was still standing on the counter.
I put it back in the fridge, had a glass of water, and went back to painting; though it wasn’t a whole ten minutes before I heard a scream from upstairs that alarmed me and got me up fast. I ran up shouting “Hello? Are you okay?” She winced out to the upstairs bathroom and I went in.
“Help, I think I did something to my angle.” She was on the white tile floor in a yellow robe. The bathtub was filled with steaming water and the tiles were slick as she held her foot protectively.
“Let me look at it,” I spoke softly as the looked at me with those pleading eyes. I saw no swelling and no redness on the supposedly injured angle, which quickly made me think that it wasn’t hurt at all.
“Can you move it?” I went along with the plot.
“Yes I think so,” she said as I kneeled next to her. I met her eyes with mine and saw that this was merely a lure in to her lips with which she came ever closer and closer until I was ensnared in her kiss and found myself unable to escape. She saw that I had found her out and she pounced. I was infused with he passion of her act and was compelled to forget all else for her sake. We intertwined there on the floor and she was still unsatisfied. Her arms came around me ad my shirt was only an obstacle soon removed. Her lips moved down my neck and wandered around my chest as I laid on my back.
She discarded her yellow robe to reveal her ample breasts and offered them to me. I lifted my head towards them and kissed her skin, smooth and silken as the wet sand of a tropical beach. She undid the belt around my waist and opened my pants, and it was clear that she had me right where she wanted.
The steam from the bath mingled with the steam of our passion and she beckoned me into the water. It was in this milky air pierced only by the rays form the skylight, and in the warm waters of the large bath, that we made our love. Entering into the depths of pleasure which she had prepared for me, I was surrounded by her limbs that would not let me loose until my role was fulfilled. Though I was not unwilling by any means, as she pulled me closer to the rhythm of the lapping waves of the tub; her skin glistening with the fruits of our labor.
I knew then that the steam and the light and the water all abode by her will as they brought me closer and closer to the apex of this passionate entanglement, and as she held me closer again one last time I reached the point where all was fulfilled and the moment of my last bit of strength had at last come to pass. Her body became hard one last time, and when all tension was released we both sank down into the waters of the sweetest slumber.
When I awoke, the cabinets were all painted with the daffodil yellow, and it was time to leave for home. I got up off the kitchen floor and thought it was good that I was there alone.
