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Brooke_ray
New member
Username: Brooke_ray
Post Number: 19
Registered: 05-2005
| | Posted on Saturday, October 22, 2005 - 05:37 pm: | 
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Remembering Him
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So accidental…as to how I found myself sitting on the bedroom floor, staring at the photograph cradled in my palm…a corner bent, the area there, cracked…fingerprint smudged, but his image still in tact. Tidying and sorting through boxes forgotten, as a facedown Polaroid was turned over…. and then…I was holding him in my hand.
As if the picture was a doorway and it was he greeting me at the hem of that enticing entrance, the view in my mind’s eye somehow expanded, past his head and his shoulders, past the blurred insignificance of background….
As pictures often do, this one held not only a likeness of a person, but also a feeling, a moment…..and on one quick glance, it took me back….Oh baby, take me back….And no longer was it just a mere picture of him, it was a portal I was holding in my hand….And I could smell the humid grass and hear a favorite song that plagued the radio stations that summer.
When the heat of the day could not hold a candle to the heat we made on those summer nights…Sunshine bronzed our bodies with its descending gold and the thunderstorms at dusk revitalized our passion….
We were wild that summer…you and me…free spirits roaming and finding ….discovering….being free….
Frozen there in my palm…forever captured on reliable Kodak print...the date at the bottom proof that it was indeed that many years ago….
My hair a bit shorter now, my hips a bit wider….I wonder, what would you think about me? Do you have a pot belly? Are you losing your hair? Trivial, meaningless ponderings….
Lost here in this box, amongst a hodge-podge of concert tickets, sentimental tokens and souvenirs, yellowing letters and restaurant menus, (why in the hell do I keep restaurant menus?!),….seems I’ve found you again….
I smiled soft and hummed a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a song…And there on the floor I spoke your name…and it felt foreign on my tongue…..for it had been so long since I had voiced it aloud….
You….staring back at me with sightless eyes, and a reluctant smile, frozen on a face that did not really care to be photographed…. And suddenly I was not on the floor anymore, I had gone through that portal somehow, and I was there with you….Again…… And recalling that moment where passion turned a page….
Blue darkened to a gluttonous midnight and the suggestiveness radiated from those storming spheres….Innocence can be a powerful thing when it is on the verge of being lost… …and then we both tumbled over… I don’t even know why or how the seed for this desire was planted. But I wanted it.
To feel your hand collide with my bottom....
To feel that sting.
I dreamt of that sting…yes I did! I conjured up fantasies of spanking long before it actually happened. Did it start with an impromptu swat against my jean clad bottom out of jest? Just a game, that created a spark that manifested quickly into a wild, untamable brushfire and made me want more? God…..So much more….
My first spanker….…Smiling up at me from that faded gloss of print. I would know his hands in the darkest of night…one brush against my skin and I would know who those hands belonged to….They were the first to spank me…and you never forget that feeling….The feeling of that hand descending, fingers coarse and greedy as they paused to clutch…screaming out that their desire matched my own.
Remembering him….
His breath scalding the nape of my neck. My heart clamoring to stampede and then bloat in my throat. Fingers tracing those clandestine creases, and lingering high on the backs of thighs, toned and tanned from the heat and the activities of those endless summer days. And that noise how it ruptured from my throat…It was a noise I’d never made before….The frantic cry of hunger …of want....a need so close to being granted…a prophecy on the threshold of being fulfilled…
And the curtains blew on a fragrant, evening breeze….As you took my bottom, again and again with that hand……
We knew no rules, no rituals….we only knew we liked it. Mesmerized by the sound of flesh on flesh and the burn and the sting and the moans and the staggered breaths and——Oh God!….the way I clung to you….Uninhibited by our ignorance, left only to wallow in the pleasure of discovering.
I let you spank me…. Holding my breath…not letting go until that hand came down…Another hitch of breath, another bite of that burning, searing, ever increasing sting … fingers squeezed and tantalized…as we let all of our demons run rampant and indulge in that moment of intimacy…. The mystery and questions all evaporated beneath the strength of that hand…That smack, radiating fulfillment as well as that unique brand of succulent heat….Contentment sweet as sugar water, swaddled me in its embrace….And even though those spanks nipped, and bit and burned my flesh…. I welcomed each and every one…
“Momma, I’m starvin’! Where are you?!”
The demanding cry of an eight year old drew me back and through that portal, into the world of NOW….and in the next second I found my little girl had discovered me rendezvousing with my reminisce, there on the carpet.
She peered over my shoulder, straight down at you with oblivious eyes…
“Who’s that?” She piped, chomping on her gum. I realized this was the third day this week she’d opted to wear her softball uniform as her playclothes…( I think if I would allow her to sleep in it, she would.) One red and white tube sock up, one rolled down, tan already from playing outside…she smelled like green grass and sunshine as she hovered there with her chin nestled on my shoulder.
“Just an old friend of momma’s…”
“And old boyfriend? “ She taunted on a precocious hum, as her lips curved into an impish grin that made me want to swaddle her in protective, bubble wrap and stick her in the corner so she cannot grow a day older…..and she cannot be hurt….
“Yeah,” I smiled, “A long time ago…”
“He’s cute. Why didn’t you marry him instead of daddy?”
I snorted at that and playfully smacked her on top of the head, “Because, if I’d done that, I wouldn’t have you now.....”
Reminding her that she was starving, I scurried up from the floor, all too aware that my butt had grown numb I’d been sitting there for so long. I successfully tempted her out of the room on the promise of hot nachos and cheese.
Poised there with him still caught between a finger and thumb, I took a last, lingering gaze at his picture…traced a fingertip down his jawline, as if to say goodbye…..and then I tossed him back into that box….
Back to where I can keep him frozen in time…back to where I know I can retreat, when I just might need to visit him again…
BRS06/05
Trinkets and Treasure
There are colors and feelings and emotional terrain that we occupy that are ours and ours alone...
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Pagan
Spanko
Username: Pagan
Post Number: 170
Registered: 05-2005
| | Posted on Sunday, October 23, 2005 - 10:11 pm: |
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Brooke, you know this is one of my favourites. Still love it... |
Naughtybynature
Spanko
Username: Naughtybynature
Post Number: 105
Registered: 04-2005
| | Posted on Sunday, October 30, 2005 - 01:55 am: |
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Exceptional Brooke. Brings up such fond memories of my own.
Did is a word of achievement, Won't is a word of retreat, Might is a word of bereavement, Can't is a word of defeat, Ought is a word of duty, Try is a word of each hour, Will is a word of beauty, Can is a word of power.
*(Unknown Author)
Don't take life so seriously.....it isn't permanent
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Brooke_ray
New member
Username: Brooke_ray
Post Number: 22
Registered: 05-2005
| | Posted on Sunday, November 13, 2005 - 04:37 pm: |
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Thank you so much, Pagan and Naughty!
Trinkets and Treasure
There are colors and feelings and emotional terrain that we occupy that are ours and ours alone...
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Wolfie
Moderator/Spanking Aficionado
Username: Wolfie
Post Number: 779
Registered: 04-2005
| | Posted on Sunday, November 13, 2005 - 11:44 pm: |
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I wish I had sweet memories of someone from the past...unfortunately no good ones. I'm making my memories now, and hopefully someday I can look back at pictures and feel the tenderness and love we once shared.
Thanks Brooke, I've always loved this story. 
wolfie loves Steve more than anything else in the whole world...even more than chocolate and lobster!
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
Perhaps they are not stars in the sky, but rather openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy.
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