Message-ID: <24253asstr$958990213@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <50781@bluejo.demon.co.uk> From: Papersky@bluejo.demon.co.uk (Papersky) Reply-To: Papersky@bluejo.demon.co.uk Subject: {ASSM} Veiled Language - Poem, M/F Date: Mon, 22 May 2000 06:10:13 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw, apuleius Veiled Language =============== It is dark, it is warm, the night smells of jasmine. You are sitting in a circle of lamplight drinking tiny glasses of clear licorice-tasting spirit with big glasses of water. You are playing a game with a woman of the city. She wears black, she has dark eyes over her dark veil. Her veil excites you. Her eyes answer for her arms for her body, for her hidden lips. You know she wants you but she does not say so yet, not with words. Her arm brushes against yours as she shakes the dice, you shiver with desire. You do not speak yet. "Six," she says, and you hear her smile. Later, you leave together, walk through the dark streets smelling the night scents, a waft of garlic, somebody's dinner. You touch sometimes, you have still hardly spoken. She stops where a light spills from a restaurant, she looks up at you. "My husband," she says, and then shakes her head; "You wouldn't understand." You wonder for a moment what you understand. The language she speaks is neither hers nor yours. There are great gaps in it, so you take her hand. "You are coming with me," you say, with no question, and her fingers squeeze yours and she says almost too quietly to hear "Yes. I will come." You go to your room, your rented room, painted white your single bed the high shuttered window, the night scent of jasmine. She takes off her veil and her dark dress. You see cream skin heavy breasts, dark nipples, dark marks curve up her belly like tiger stripes. Then she turns off the light her skin is warm and smooth her mouth is performing wonders, you reach out to touch her shoulder and she goes stiff. "What's wrong, what is it?" you ask, but she laughs quietly against you, she says "It is only that I don't know you, you could do anything, anything you wanted." You could do anything; what you do is touch her, stroking her slowly, your fingers learning the language of darkness the language of her body. You pause, fumbling, tearing the foil packet. She takes the condom and rolls it down light as her breath sure as her fingers Then she grips firmly moves with you, guides you inside her hot wet velvet. She moans in her throat quietly wordless dark night noises of delight. At that you are only Man and Woman moving together knowing without words the old thrusting dances, desire and fulfillment. At last you cry out too, and it seems there are words and you both say them. Even as they pass your lips they are gone into night out of memory. You fall asleep after, you must have, because you wake up when she is dressing. In the shutter's edge dawnlight she looks tired, and older. Fumbling for words you ask; "When can I see you?" She half turns, looks at you over her veil, and says, already gone, "You have never seen me." -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+