My heart quickens as I take your hand and lead you down the empty hallway. You glance over at me with a suspicious smirk, a knowing glint flashing across your crystal blue eyes. I return your smile and continue towards my intended destination. After a brief inspection of the surrounding hall I see nor hear any sign of others in the area of the building. I reach out and push the bathroom door open, dragging you inside. An enthusiastic smile beams across your beautiful face as the door swings shut and I approach, backing you up against the sink.
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Damon: I'll bet you'll get up to some trouble in Cabo.
I smirked at the text that flashed up on our chat-log from the computer screen. He was always teasing me.
Ashleigh: No trouble. At least not the good kind of trouble. I'm going with my boyfriend don't forget.
There was a pause, and while I anticipated his next words, I took a sip of the vodka soda I was prone to drinking while I spent my online hours chatting with my favorite virtual stranger, DamonX.
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I open the screen door to the apartment. It's hot, making the screen door necessary to keep cool inside. Standing on the doorstep I peer into the gloom but cannot see anyone in the lounge room. The TV is blaring away, but to no audience. I shrug and then enter. I am quiet as I pad down the carpeted hallway to the lounge where I drop my bag silently. Turning to the left there is another small hall with doors closed at each end. I walk over to the right hand door and push it halfway open.
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For the past sixteen months, my sex life has been scaled back to what I would call "ordinary." My husband and I moved to Hong Kong with our children for a temporary assignment with his company that ended just two weeks ago. We decided before we left home that it would be best to leave our fetishes behind because we would be closely "supervised" by our host country.
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"Well," Tom sighed, "what other romantic songs do we have for Valentine's Day? More Dean Martin?" The little piano bar was more crowded than on some nights. It had been a shore day, St. Martin. No big production show tonight, just one of those juggling comedians that seem to find their way on to cruise ships. Washed up, like him, flotsam bobbing against the shoreline, but not quite, not quite stranded yet.
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It had been a hard week at work and I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend. I called my mate, Darren, and asked him if he fancied a drink on Saturday night so he suggested we have a drink in and I stay over at his place as his parents were away.
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I glanced around cautiously as I made my way up the narrow cobblestone path towards the imposing residence before me. Through the darkness of the night I could see the front door ajar, as a shaft of light spilled out over the front step accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of music and laughter coming from within. I began to wonder if I was making a mistake, but quickly dismissed the notion, silently scolding myself for such unfounded doubt.
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Kate lay on the bed, naked and asleep on her stomach with her left leg bent off to the side. Slowly her body nagged her into waking. She reached her arm out and felt only an empty pillow where her boyfriend, David, normally would be lying next to her. Suddenly something tickled the back of her right knee -- a feather-light touch of a pair of lips. The fog of sleepiness began to evaporate as David trailed light kisses up her leg.
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"Hi I'm Steve."
The girl looked up quickly and turned slightly away, hands defensively covering her middle. She needn't have bothered. I had always liked curvy girls and when I had come around the corner of the narrow overgrown trail that led down the hillside to the secluded beach I had stopped to admire her.
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Alice van der Poole loved her boyfriend. Really, she did. Ben was perfectly handsome, perfectly sweet, perfectly... bland. Every kiss was preceded with a gentle, "May I kiss you?" and followed by a whispered, "You're so beautiful." At night, Ben would tell her how precious she was, how delicate and sweet and lovely. His fragile, perfect little rose. Alice wanted to scream.
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