The Playground Shuddered With Laughter

My heart pounded as my feet slammed along the beaten path in the woods. When I was certain I had gained enough ground, I dove under a bush. I began to crawl from the path, the branches tugging on my hair. I smiled as flowers danced across my face.

His kiss finds freedom, his reservations are slashed at the throat, and his morals buried. I know now that he’s always wanted me. This kiss tells me so. In the way he lets it all unleash. In the way he holds me tight to him, as if he’s afraid I might slip through his fingers. In the way his heart pounds against my bosom. He’s been starved for me. All this time.

Bodies collided against each other. His hands trailed up my torso lingering on the ridges of my ribs. Hot kisses were placed against my chest slowly before continuing up my neck. The temperature in the room seemed to change, growing molten hot the closer he came to my lips. I twitched in anticipation, sparks were flying all around our bodies. My hands pulled at the smooth sheets beneath me. He was so close to me, so personal. I had barely enough space to breath. His lips finally joined with mine igniting a flame between us. His arms wrapped around me, lifting me without disconnecting our lips. We broke apart briefly before meeting again. The candles around us flickered in the breeze coming from a nearby open window.

His soft, gentle, fingers trailed a flame down my arm as he let them trace it down to my hand that lay across my stomach. I sighed, content in our lovemaking. Myles’ blue eyes showed his satisfaction in having pleasured me so well. We both knew that it would not last long- it never did. Just his eyes upon me, initiated pleasurable pulsations that began deep in my pleasure place and then traveled through my body. When he licked his lips, I felt it down there… He knew I would soon want him inside me again and the curl of his lip showed his pompous, superiority over all things sexual. He leaned over me and let his tongue trace around the nipple of my left breast before he nibbled at it with his lips and then suckled tenderly. When I began to moan softly, he took my mouth with his and kissed me deeply, his tongue exploring the depths of my desire. His hand left my breast and traveled down to the soft fleshy mons between my thighs. Slowly and gently, he probed until he had me begging him to penetrate me. I wanted his large phallus inside me, but he continued to tease, his lips trailing fire over my body; he wanted me to beg for it.

I weave in and out of the last of the summer apple trees, beside the deep pool, the weeping willows cry out as the wind rattles their bones. The howling tempestuous wind carries me into a clearing where a little girl, with her hair like an inferno splayed around her head like a delicate band, lies asleep in the silvery moonlight. I fly right up to her and land on her chest, where a scarlet black rose lies dead upon her breast. I wake up. I don’t know where I am.

I didn’t know if Dale and I were out on a date or just spending time with each other. opening doors, holding out my chair, me snatching him back before he walks into a light pole, in front of a moving car, or trip over the sidewalk all because he kept looking at me. I didn’t know if I was flattered (highly) or frighten (highly as well). When hours or days go by and with me only remembering him opening his car door on a bright sunny day as I was getting into and… Dale opens the car door for me at night to getting out, what girl wouldn’t be a bit spooked. I knew I was in love with Dale and not just because of his good looks, had blinding smile, or his lips kissing me felt… Let’s leave the turning my legs to soft dough out of this conversation. What girl wouldn’t fall to pieces the way he lifts my leg. However, but something just didn’t feel… right. Tonight we were having dinner at his house and then to the movies.

The canvas was huge and intriguing. Her teacher blocked the middle of the whole forest and seemed to be painting the final details for when she finally stepped back a fiery sun illuminated the silhouette of a child and its mother basking in the light that seemed to signify a tomorrow. It was captivating, although the darkness of the forest seemed to outweigh the light of the sun the possibility of reaching a better tomorrow was overwhelming that it touched her

The sweet whispers of existence swirled about her mind, hints of far-off places a tantalising thread to follow. She grew restless, no longer content with herself and the darkness as company. She yearned to stretch out, to explore. The little girl collected her thoughts and all at once she pushed outward.

Audrey was singing, hips shaking to the beat of the song in the radio, one that Des wasn’t paying much attention to. She was reading, finishing up some papers for her research and experiments, eyes glued to the desk, back straight and left arm perched to hold her up as she wrote more and more. She sighed before letting her eyes close, a sign that she was exhausted, needing a break. Light footsteps followed from the living room to where she was sitting before they paused. She opened her eyes to find Audrey’s arm outreached right in front of her, a wondering tilt of her eyebrow suggesting Des should take it. Looking down at the rest of her work, Desiree’s face broke into a bright smile, and she stood up before taking a hold of Audrey’s warm hand. She was led to the middle of the living room, where the other pulled her close and began slowly swaying to a pop song that was still playing in the background. It didn’t matter what kind of song was playing though, their bodies were close and Des looked at Audrey as though she were her world, and it may have been true because Audrey looked at her the same way. Even after the song was over and another began, they danced unhurriedly, papers and stress forgotten. Des twirled Audrey with a dramatic giggle, pulling her towards her chest to only press the most charming kiss to the corner of her lips, Audrey huffing in amusement at Des’ lack of

Eleanor waited outside on a yellow, rusty swing swinging back and forth thinking that at any moment Park would appear. Running to her. Worried about her. Asking if she’s okay and her saying no I’m not okay.

He had dark hair, which was slicked back, exposing his forehead. He rolled a piece of paper in his fingers – about the size of a chewing gum wrapper. He wore eyeliner; just a little, drawing you to look into his eyes. Oh, his eyes. They were darker than his hair, but not quite black. I stared at them a little while longer. It was something about them which made them look as if he was looking at me. He wouldn’t look at me though. I’m plain Jane, or I might as well be, with my hair the colour you are never sure is blonde or brown, and my eyes, a blue grey. I blinked. He was stood in front of me, his hand hesitantly rubbing my forearm.

When the doors closed, and the elevator began its descent, he caressed my hand. With my peripheral vision, I noticed Brian caressing my fingers while he stared straight ahead, with a smirk on his face. I pulled my hand away, rested it on my chest and moved away from his reach. As soon as the elevator door opened, I put further distance between us.

Zane plops onto the floor like a sack of potatoes, making a satisfying “whump.” He glances around at the ordinary crowd of children. The race to fall to the ground has ended, and the students once again resume their anxiousness, murmuring beyond control. The usual deduction as to why he and his peers are sitting on the floor rush into Zane’s mind, Oooooooo! Someone’s in trouble! The true answer has escaped him. Today is the annual Children’s Garden of Knowledge summer field trip. Every year, Zane and the handful of students who attend his preschool make a trip to some magical location that is sure to bring merriment to the dull life of a child. The detective is pulled out of his investigation by the familiar sound of hard skin-to-skin contact.

One night while she had walked, swings at a playground strangely moved in sync with northerly wind. This area unlike any other you can possibly dream or imagine. Within

"It's good," I heard him say, his voice still strange and rough, "don't be shy. Please." But... would Johnny say that to Joyce? I'm just realizing that maybe... but he didn't say. Didn't suggest that I was anyone other than who I was pretending to be. I grasped him fully, and the way he filled my fist was so strangely satisfying. He guided me until I found my way, just as you said, growing more adventurous by the minute. I felt his breath on my shoulder, clueing me into what he liked-- the lightest touches just at the tip, teasing, before cupping my hand around it and easing up and down as the record reached its end. We never flipped it. It was incredible... I could feel his thighs twitching beneath me, tensing, eager for my clumsy attentions. Even for my inexperience, I felt powerful. I was his whole world that night-- me, bargain bin Jane Eyre, too plain for words. I couldn't see, but I felt every tender ridge, every straining inch. I never thought it would be so smooth, soft as my silk scarf. I played until he took hold of my hand, and at first I thought maybe I had done something wrong, but he quickened my leisurely pace until he started