Priče

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Afrodita
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 05 lis 2012 20:58

srednjoškolska ljubav završava raskidom ...svaka od njih odlazi putem svojih snova...jedna postaje profesionalna košarkašica a druga sportska liječnica...susret nakon niza godina...da li se ljubav može ponovno rasplamsati ili će krenuti svaka na svoju stranu ....priča u 3 nastavka ...Bet on Madison (The), Syd's Choice, Stronger Then Us

~ The Bet on Madison ~
by Lady D

The next morning Syd called Madison to put her plan underway. Though she was frustrated by her friends' constant teasing she hated the war that was constantly being fought between her ego and her heart. Syd knew she had feelings for Madison, but she couldn't explain them. She had never been in love before, so how would she know how it felt? Valentine's Day was this Tuesday, and she thought it was the perfect opportunity to win the blonde over completely. Madison stood in her kitchen scrambling some eggs on the stove. It was a mother daughter ritual every Sunday morning. Frances would cook the biscuits and bacon, while Madison did the eggs. By the time breakfast was ready, Tom, her father, would scurry into the kitchen in a bathrobe, pour his coffee and wait for his beautiful girls to serve him a plate. Both Madison and Frances were fine with this arrangement because that left Mr. Murphy to cook dinner.

"So, hun, how was your friend?" Frances asked.

"Syd?" Madison smiled at the thought of the brunette and their almost first kiss.

"No, your other friend that was knocked unconscious for three hours." Frances joked.

Madison playfully shook her head at her mother's humor. "Her eye was swelled pretty badly, but she's okay."

The blonde really liked Syd. There was just something about her that made her shyness vanish into thin air. The brunette had a way of making her feel like she was the only person on earth. Every afternoon they would study together, Madison couldn't help the attraction she felt. Syd was a magnificent sculpture to look at. When she'd look into her blue eyes, her knees were useless. When the brunette smiled, her heart raced.

Just then the phone rang and Frances picked it up. "Murphy residence..."

"Oh, hi Mrs. Murphy this is Sydney. May I speak to Madison?" Syd never called Maddie by her full name, but in respect for the blonde's parents she would say the alternative.

"Sure, Sydney, she's just helping me with breakfast."

The blonde quickly turned off the stove and went to her mother's side. Frances handed her daughter the phone.

"Hi, Syd. Is something wrong?"

Syd smiled at the blonde's concern. "No, everything's fine. I just wanted to know if you were busy this Tuesday night."

That's Valentine's Day. "No, no I'm not doing anything. Do you need more help with studying?" The blonde said playing dumb.

The brunette lightly chuckled. "No, I don't need more help studying. I just wanted to invite you to my house to watch a movie."

The blonde hesitated while Syd anxiously awaited an answer.

"I'm not really comfortable with all your jock friends. They don't like me you know."

"Oh?no they're not coming. Just you."

Madison smiled. "Just me?"

"Yeah. So whatta ya say?" Syd said in a low seductive voice.

Madison heard the sudden change of tone in the brunette's voice and it sparked something new in her lower anatomy.

"Um?sure?I'll be there. Should I bring anything?" the blonde managed to say.

"No... just you..."

Madison's face began to flush and she turned away from her parents who were engaged in a deep conversation.

"Okay... I'll see you Tuesday," the blonde agreed.

The brunette heard the timid tone in the blonde's voice. "You're blushing aren't you?" Syd said smiling.

Madison giggled. "Bye Syd." She pushed the end button.

Syd hung up her phone, leaned back on her pillow and sighed. "She wants me." Odd thing is?I want her too.

Syd had been in her bedroom closet for an hour trying to find the right clothes to wear. Heather stood by the sliding closet doors watching her friend frantically pull out clothes. Suddenly a shirt landed on her head and she yanked it off.

"What's with you Syd? It's not like you haven't done this before."

Syd finally decided to go with her best fitting black T-shirt and dark blue jeans. "How does this look?" she asked stepping out of her closet. Her hair hung down to her shoulders still a little wet from the shower she had.

"It looks fine. But since when have you cared so much?" Heather questioned her.

Syd shook her head. "Look, it doesn't matter. Now you have to leave before Maddie comes."

"Oh, I can't stay? I wanted to watch her blow you off." Heather teased.

"I think I'll be the one doing the blowing." The brunette wiggled her eyebrows.

Heather's mouth dropped open and smacked Syd in the arm. "Eww, you know what I mean!"

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Shit! Come on, you have to go out the back way." Syd whispered as they ran up the steps. As Syd opened the back door Heather couldn't resist to tease some more.

"Please can I stay? You need a witness to see that this action is carried out." Heather said smiling.

"Heather I'm not fucking around!" she whispered harshly. The doorbell sounded again. "Leave!" the brunette hissed.

"Okay, okay." Heather left and Syd quickly closed the door behind her.

Syd knew this was the perfect night to set everything up. First, her mother was out of town visiting one of her older brothers so they would be alone. And second, it was Valentine's Day. Syd ran to the door and opened it. Usually when she planned these nights of seduction she would open the door, take the girl by the hand, throw them on the large leather couch and have sex. It was that simple. There was never any movie to watch. However, what she saw at the door stopped the predator brunette in her tracks. There stood Madison in yellow sun flowered dress with spaghetti straps. Her long hair was combed neatly and one side was tucked behind an ear. Syd couldn't speak. She just stared like a fool.

"Hi, Sydney. Can I come in?" Madison asked with a smile.

Syd finally willed her eyes to blink and opened the door further. "Oh, sorry? you just look?nice."

"Thanks. You look nice too." The blonde said stepping into the foyer. Syd closed the door and turned to look at the beautiful girl before her. She couldn't get over how gorgeous Madison looked. That dress?yum. The blonde took a step closer to Syd and softly put her hand on the basketball player's cheek. "Hey, you can open your eye now!" said with a light laugh.

The swelling around Syd's eye had gone down, but it was slightly bluish purple around the bottom lid creating a dark half ring.

Noticing that Syd was still just gawking at her, the blonde smiled in amusement and removed her hand. "So, where are we watching the movie?"

Syd shook her head again and was a little embarrassed to be staring so much. "Oh, right over there, in the den."

They both stepped down into the den area with the big leather furnishings. The blonde sat on the couch greeted by a large plasma screen TV mounted on the wall.

"So what are we watching?" the blonde asked excitedly.

"That's a good question." Syd stated standing in front of the DVD cabinet.

In fact, it was a very good question since Syd and her dates never actually got to the movie part.

"How about a Romantic-Comedy? It is Valentine's Day." Madison suggested.

"Okay?" Syd said scanning the various titles. "How about Nine-Months?"

"Oooo?I like that one." The blonde said. Syd popped in the DVD and turned off all the lights so all that could be seen was the glowing light of the television. She then plopped on the couch on the left side of Madison. She was so close that their thighs were touching. The blonde looked down at their touching legs.

"Not much for personal space are you?" Madison said with a giggle.

"Not really." Syd said smiling.

After about 15 minutes into the movie Syd glanced over at the blonde who was closely watching the movie. Her hormones were on overdrive having the blonde this close to her in the dark. She wanted so much to reach over and touch the blonde in places she had never been touched before. She wanted to lay her down on the couch and do sinful things to her all night long. Without even thinking she turned to the blonde and slowly placed a kiss on her cheek. The blonde closed her eyes and relished the feel of Syd's lips. It had been a while since she had received one of those from her dark haired friend. Syd pulled back and studied the blonde's face for a reaction. Finally Madison opened her eyes and turned to piercing blue eyes.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered.

Syd ducked her head down and brought it back up again. "I couldn't help it." She said with sincere eyes. "You're so pretty Maddie." She whispered.

The blonde looked down and blushed. Syd put her arm on the couch cushion behind Madison's head and used her left hand to tilt the shy girl's head up. Her mind filled with panic when she was greeted by tearing red eyes.

"Oh?Maddie what's wrong?.?" Syd asked worriedly.

Madison brought her left hand up to Syd injured cheek and slowly caressed it.

"There's nothing wrong," she said sniffling and shaking her head slowly. "It's just that?you make me feel so?special."

Hearing the truth and emotion in Madison's voice, Syd's eye became glassy. The blonde leaned forward and kissed the injured eye tenderly and pulled back to look at the brunette. "Thank you." She whispered.

Syd looked deeply into Madison's eyes and finally spoke. "I like you Maddie. A lot?and I want to ask you something."

Madison sniffled. "What?"

Syd smiled sheepishly and then asked, "?Can I kiss you?"

Madison studied the brunette's face a moment and then slowly nodded her head. Syd leaned towards the blonde inch by inch very slowly. Timidly their lips met for the first time in a gentle kiss. And then a second. With their eyes still closed Syd slowly pulled back just enough so their foreheads were touching. She actually wanted to know what the blonde was feeling. Madison still had her eyes closed and had a slight smile on her face.

"That was my first kiss." She said shyly.

"How was it?" Syd whispered.

"It was perfect?" Madison said snuggling her head against the brunette's. "Your lips are really soft."

"Mmmm?so are yours?" Syd whispered and kissed the blonde again. Only this kiss lingered for awhile. Slowly their lips danced together. It wasn't lustful or urgent, just satisfying. The brunette was amazed by how nice it felt just to kiss. Syd slid her tongue out lightly touching Madison's lips and the blonde suddenly panicked and pulled back.

"Syd, wait." She said putting her hand on the brunette's chest. Under her hand she could feel Syd's heart beating a million miles per hour.

"Your heart is beating really fast." Madison said breathlessly.

Syd took an audible swallow. "I know?I've never felt like this before."

Madison smiled and absently rubbed the brunette's beating chest. "Syd?.I don't know if I can?What if I'm not good at it?" the blonde said dejectedly.

Syd placed her hand on Madison's cheek and smiled. "You're doing well so far, trust me."

"I trust you Syd."

Those three words, I trust you stung Syd to the core. Here she sat with an innocent girl who trusted her. Who cared for her. The more time the basketball player spent with Madison, the worse she felt about the bet. Syd mentally shook her head to clear her mind of conscious thoughts and refocused her attention to the blonde. Their lips met again and Syd boldly slid her tongue into the blonde's mouth. Madison showed no resistance and slowly caressed her tongue against Syd's. The brunette moaned in her throat and placed a hand on the blonde's thigh. Soon, it was an all out war between the thrashing tongues. This along with Syd's hand position made the blonde feel a now familiar feeling in her lower body. Syd laid Madison on her back never breaking the kiss. The blonde's warm body felt good beneath her. Finally, they both broke the kiss, breathing heavily. Syd looked down at the blonde's flushed face.

"Are you sure you've never kissed before?" Syd asked with a slight smile.

"Never..." Madison replied with deep breaths.

"Then I guess?you've never done this either." Syd said in a seductive tone. She positioned her thigh against Madison's womanhood.

The blonde whimpered in response. "Syd?"

The brunette thrust down again. Madison couldn't find any words. What she was feeling was new and incredible. She just laid there with her mouth open taking small breaths. Syd then tilted her head and began placing heavy kisses on Madison's neck. The blonde gave a loud gasp and gripped Syd's back. "Oh, Syd?" Madison squeaked and absently began moving her hips. The brunette responded with a low mumble and continued to kiss Madison's neck and slowly thrust her hips forward.

"Mmmm?I think we should stop?" the blonde whispered breathlessly in Syd's ear.

"Me too?" Syd whispered back sucking on the blonde's neck. She continued to seek her pleasure until she felt Madison stiffen beneath her. Syd halted her movements and raised her head to look into the blonde's eyes. She looked deeply into the green eyes before her.

"You're not ready?" Syd said softly.

"This isn't right..." Madison whispered

"Do you wanna go to my room?" Syd quickly suggested.

"No?I mean?this isn't the right time." Madison said with sincere and loving eyes.

Syd tried to mask her disappointment and closed her eyes. God, she got me really worked up.

"Okay," she said sitting up. Syd returned to her earlier seated position and leaned her head to the ceiling blowing out a frustrated breath.

Madison sat up and straightened her dress. She then leaned forward and put a soft kiss on the brunette's cheek. "I'm sorry?I'm just not ready yet?" she said with a hint of sadness thinking she disappointed the basketball player.

Syd turned to Madison with a loop-sided smile. "It's okay?really. That was the best make out session I've ever had." Madison giggled and put her head down trying to conceal her blush.

"Hey?don't get all shy on me now." Syd joked receiving another giggle from the blonde.

"Alright," Syd said standing up. "Are you ready for me to drive you home? Not that I want you to go but?if you're around me any longer I won't be able to keep my hands off you."

Madison playfully shook her head and grabbed Syd's offered hand.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/lady_d_t ... dison.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 08 lis 2012 23:11

vampiri i vukodlaci ...Chance, Secret History of Vampires (The)

~ Chance ~
by Zee and Windstar

The humming was definitely off tune. In fact, it was so very off tune that it almost sounded like someone was doing their darnedest to hum very loudly as far off tune as possible. It wasn't a particularly good song to hum even, although that didn't seem to bother the person humming it as loudly as she could.

The humming stopped when the door to the room banged open. "Ah, there's my lovely nightingale," the voice that belonged to the humming person said.

"If you keep humming, I swear to God I'm going to slit your throat and string you from the roof!" the newcomer growled, which was followed by the sound of a metal tray being slammed down on something.

"There, dinner!" The door to the room opened and slammed shut again.

"I love you too, dearest one!" the hummer called after the nurse then laughed and set to humming again as she cheerfully started to investigate the sloppy contents of the dish.

Chance's forehead wrinkled into a frown, dipping black eyebrows into a sharp V. The slam of a tray caused blue eyes to crack open. The room was blurry, and her mouth tasted of nasty things. As things focused a bit more, she realized she was, yet again, in the recovery room at the clinic. The hospital was a sad state of affairs with the government funding only allowing for so much. Public opinion was that they were Shifters, and Shifters had inhuman healing powers. That caused another bitter thought, yeah like those healing powers had done her family a lot of good when they had been shot in the head. Weakly, she tried to reach the glass of water next to her bed, which was tempting her, all ready to be drunk, it even had a bendy straw.

The humming cut off in mid note, which was probably a blessing. "Hey, super agent, you're alive over there?" The woman sounded surprised at that. "Well damn, I think I just lost my bet with nightingale."

Chance wanted to say 'Fuck off!" but it came out more like a raspy death rattle. She stayed focused on her hand, which was making slow progress to the cup.

"Hey, least you could do is be neighborly and say hi back." There was rustling and a muffled curse from the next curtained-off area. A second later, said curtain was shoved aside to reveal a gangly looking woman with shaggy, unkempt brown hair and a mischievous look in her eyes.

Hobbling on a cast foot, she moved over to the bed.

"Ah, the water crawl, I've done that before. Usually after a bender though." Using the tip of a finger, she pushed the water cup closer to Chance's hand, slowly.

Chance looked up with a glare, her blue eyes flashing like stormy skies. "Wh?who?who?the hell...are you?" she rasped out.

Tsking, the woman pushed the cup of lukewarm water closer. "You should really drink some water. Then you can yell at me. Or I could sing for you. Would you like that?" Without waiting for an answer, she dove into a truly horrible rendition of Bird on a Wire.

Chance tried to growl, but she just hurt too much. Finally, she snagged the water and took a healthy drink, nearly choking on it. "Shut up!" she rasped out then promptly vomited over the rail of her bed, her empty stomach unable to handle that much water.

The shaggy woman held up a hand, suddenly stopping her singing and dodging vomit. "Hold that thought!"

She hobbled quickly back to her side of the room, jumping up onto the bed just as the door from the hallway slammed open.

"Ah, nightingale!"

The disgruntled old nurse in the door glared at the woman.

"I'd like to lodge a complaint. Super agent is disturbing my restful slumber by singing horribly off key. I think you should transfer me to a private room." She smiled, hopefully. When the nurse continued to glare, she sighed. "And she vomited." That got the nurse moving, towards Chance.

The nurse helped the agent to lean back on the bed and whisked the curtain closed. "You really shouldn't drink that much water, Agent Paral," the old woman admonished, stepping around the vomit as she checked vitals.

Chance flopped back onto her bed, groaning and holding her stomach, where a shattered silver bullet and all its remains had been dug out.

"Pavel, it's Agent Pavel," she croaked out.

"Well, Agent Pavel, you should know better than to drink so much water after a stomach wound." The gray-haired nurse shook her head and took away the glass. "I'll let the doctor know that you're awake and send someone to clean up the mess."

"Goodbye, fairest nightingale, until you come again to brighten this room and shine a ray of sunshine into my very heart!" the woman closest to the door called out as the nurse left, receiving a one-fingered salute from said nurse.

"She loves me dearly, can't you tell?" the woman laughed.

"Thanks?" Chance said to the nurse as she left, before turning to the woman next to her. "Who are you?"

"A law abiding citizen who has the privilege, no?wait, the honor of being in the same room with super agent Pavel, sister of the great and merciless Zoya!" The woman seemed to find that quite funny and laughed until she looked over at the expression on the agent's face, and sobered. "But before you go looking up my social security number, which I don't really think I have, but anyway, name's Kehpri."

The bit about her sister immediately had her on edge. "Kehpri..?" She sat up and set her feet on the ground, testing her balance. Already she was doing much better. "What kind of name is that?" She reached over and switched off the extremely out of date monitor then pulled various needles and tubes from her body.

"Chance..? What kind of name is that?" Kehpri snickered then made a face as she saw what the agent was doing. "Not that I really care, but shouldn't you be in bed, you were just puking all over the floor a minute ago?"

"Chance is a name I haven't given you," she grumbled out. "And I have work to do." Kehpri was bugging the shit out of her, and since she felt like shit, she wasn't in the mood to stay here, no matter how hot Dr. Miller was.

Lacing her hands behind her head, Kehpri whistled a few bars of something that wasn't recognizable as a song. "So you're out of here, with a hole in your stomach? Wow, so those stories about how stubborn you are were actually telling the truth."

Chance managed a somewhat decent growl. "No, but I'm sure it's more having to do with the stubbornness of Federal Agents."

"Yeah, about that, where are all your fellow agents. Aren't all the boys in blue supposed to swarm the place when one of their own gets hurt?" Kehpri sat up in her bed, watching curiously as the last of the needles hit the floor.

"The few agents are probably out swamped with all sorts of shit storms. It is a full moon night." Which answered her own question, Kupie doll here wasn't a Were, because obliviously she wasn't all furry.

"Oh, right, I got so caught up with auditioning for American idol that I forgot all about that moon thing. Huh, pesky moon?" She swung her feet out over the floor and stood up, leaning against the bed to take some weight off the cast on one leg. "So, you going to turn all furry?"

"American what..?" She shook her head and took a step, ignoring the pain that came with each step. "I'm not talking to you about my personal life."

She hobbled to the end of the bed looking for her clothes, which normally should be in a bag at the end of the bed. She bent over to pick them up, grunting at the pain that radiated up from the stitches in her stomach.

"You know, even people who can heal quickly have a hard time with a bullet to the stomach. Even worse if it's silver." Kehpri grinned, leaning closer to the door so that she could peer out the small window into the dim corridor beyond.

"Woops, gotta go to the bathroom." She hurriedly shuffled her way into the small toilette and locked the door behind her.

"What the fuck?" Chance mumbled out as the other woman disappeared. Slowly, she straightened up, but she could smell blood coming strongly from the clothes in the bag.

The sound of arguing came from the hallway, followed a moment later by the door to the hospital room opening fast enough to bounce off the other wall. Her eyes turned towards the door, and her sister's menacing frame filling it. The hospital clinic wasn't that big, and she was surprised Zoya waited as long as she had. Zoya was the spitting image of their parents. Strong Russian ancestry radiated out of her: white blonde hair, blue eyes, and every other dip and curve of her body. Chance, other than the blue eyes and height, looked every bit like her birth mother, with her black hair and dusky skin.

"I know you think you're the Alpha of these parts, Ms. Pavel, but you can't just burst in without waiting for us, it causes trauma for the patients," the nurse bit out, already on her last nerve because of the loony in her ward.

"I told you when I dropped her off that I would be back for her," Zoya snarled over a shoulder then slammed the door shut in the nurse's face.

"I'm going to get the doctor!" was heard from the other side.

Zoya snorted, dragging the lone chair in the room with her over to where Chance stood. "Here, you look like you're going to fall over," she shoved the chair towards her sister.

Chance felt like she was a child again. But unlike when she was a child, she wasn't trailing after her bigger sister hoping for approval. "Zoya, I'm fine. I just need to get dressed and get back to work. I can't afford this, not tonight."

Not on a full moon night when humans and Shapeshifters were out doing all sorts of stupid shit to each other.

"As if you're in any shape to do anything about it," Zoya countered, going over to the small barred window in the wall and peering outside. At one time the hospital had been part of a military base, and it retained all of its charm from those past days. "Why do you have to be so difficult about this, Chance? Just sit down and heal without dashing off and getting shot at again. You know my pack and I can handle it tonight."

Chance stiffened, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Handle it, like the men who shot me." And she wanted to take it back, 'cause she didn't want to know how Zoya had handled it. Didn't want to know because as she had lain bleeding out into the sand and dirt of the high desert floor, she had fumbled for her cell phone and called Zoya, called her and said, "I'm dying. I'm dying with the moon and the stars pointing at Orion, with the wind blowing from the east where the rabbits and the badger make their nests together."

She called her sister because she had known, without a doubt, Zoya would find her and make it right, and her fellow agents would still be lost in the scrub.

"I handled it exactly like they tried to handle it for you," Zoya shot back, stiffening as well. This was a familiar fight for the two of them. "Your fellow 'agents' haven't even noticed you're gone yet! They're still out there trying to track down the hunters. Now you tell me which one of us is more effective?"

She raised a hand and lowered her head. "I'm sorry. Please don't say anything else." Anymore down this slippery slope and a line would be crossed. She sat, suddenly tired, and noticed a small stain of red on the hospital gown; she'd popped the stitches. "That's not fair. We do the best that we can. And, and we've made so many changes to the policies that used to surround this shit hole."

Zoya was spared from giving a caustic answer that would have helped neither of them by the hospital room door opening again. The woman who stepped inside was as different from the dour and rather large old nurse as was possible. Dr. Miller exuded an unconscious aura of sexuality around herself. Her straight blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and model-like complexion only strengthened it and helped explain why almost the entire hospital staff was in love with her.

"Zoya, you have to stop coming in here and terrorizing my nurses." Even her voice had a smoky quality to it. The older sister's posture immediately changed as she smiled.

"Sorry, Dr. Miller, I'll try to be nicer next time."

"Oh, I'm sure you're plenty nice when you want to be," the good doctor answered as they locked gazes, leaving Chance sitting there.

Chance bristled as she felt she wasn't even in the same room with those two. Jealous feelings rose in her and she wondered just for a moment why her sister couldn't be straight, leaving her a more fair advantage with the fairer sex. Seeing her sister standing next to the doctor only made her realize what ungodly beautiful children they'd have if Zoya were capable. And the way Zoya bragged sometimes; who knew, maybe some of the pups running around were hers.

"Hello, remember me? I'm the one with the bullet wound: and a badge and gun."

"Agent Parel?" Dr. Miller switched the full force of that personality to the wounded woman in the chair. "I'm glad you're looking better than earlier."

Zoya gave her sister a dirty look and went back to stand by the window. The good doctor picked up the medical chart at the end of the bed and started to flip through pages, frowning briefly.

"Been going through your own records, Agent? I didn't know you knew how to read these." She rearranged the records into the order she liked and kept reading.

"It's Pavel, not Parel, just the same as Zoya." She sighed and glared at her sister, who just stuck her tongue out. "Of course I went through my records, that bullet will be evidence."

"Hmmm?well, for some reason, you were checked in as Agent Parel." The doctor scribbled something on the paper. "How are you feeling now?"

"I'm fine. Just need to get dressed and get back out in the field." She crossed her arms over her stomach to hide the slightly larger red stain.

"She broke a stitch or something, she's bleeding again," Zoya happily betrayed her sister.

The doctor sighed and went to get a pair of gloves. "Agent, you were told to stay in bed, exactly to avoid hurting yourself."

Chance threw the bag she had picked up with her bloodied clothes at her sister in frustration. "I hate you." But they both knew she didn't.

"I'll just leave you to the doctor's care," Zoya smiled and headed for the door. "I look forward to seeing you around later, Doctor Miller." The doctor met her eyes and smiled as they both stared at one another for entirely too long. Zoya gave a rakish grin and headed out into the hall, where members of her pack were waiting.

"Zoya, wait! Doctor, can I have a minute with my sister?"

"As long as you promise to get back into the bed after?" the doctor demanded, masking it as a polite request.

"Yeah, fine. I need my cell phone..." She paused at the look. "Or a phone of some sort to report what happened. I promise I'll stay here until the morning."

"Good enough," Dr. Miller agreed. On purpose, Zoya lingered in the door so that the doctor had to squeeze past her to get out of the room. Grinning, the older sister closed the door and looked at her sister. "I think I should come back with a splinter or something and get the doctor to examine me."

"Please don't rub it in my face that women will always prefer you to me, even though I have a badge and handcuffs." She sighed and looked everywhere but her sometimes painful, estranged sister.

She cleared her throat then quietly said. "Thank you, for coming for me when I needed you. I know you don't agree with me or my choices in life, but you were there when I needed you."

Zoya studied her sister seriously. "I'm your sister, what else was I supposed to do?" She smiled quickly though, the seriousness fading. "Besides, now you owe me big time. I'll see you later, got to go see to the pack." With a mock salute, she was off.

Chance made a face that could have gone better. "Well, that blows," she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

"What blows?" Kehpri asked, easing open the door cautiously. When the room looked empty, she stepped out of the small bathroom and closed the door quickly. "You might not want to go in there anytime soon." She waved her hands back and forth at the air in front of it as if blowing away a bad smell.

The dark-haired woman developed a tic in her right eye and buried her face in her hands. "I'm stuck in the hospital over night with an insane person."

"Really..? There's someone else here?" The wild-haired woman peered out the window into the hallway. "Wow, your sister and that doctor would make such beautiful children."

"Shut up," Chance bit out between clenched teeth.

She didn't look, not wanting to see her sister intimately invading the hot Dr Miller's personal space.

"I thought she was supposed to come back here to fix those stitches for you," Kehpri ignored the command, still watching the hall. "Guess she's going on break or something. Hmm?on break with your sister."

"Shut up," she said again, only this time there was a little more bite in her tone.

"Ok, ok, shutting up," Kehpri muttered, hobbling back over to her bed and hoping up onto it. She stayed quiet for about two minutes. "So...seen any interesting movies lately?"

Chance groaned and desperately pressed the button to summon the nurses.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/windstar ... hance.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
Spol/rod: žensko
Ja sam: lezbijka
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 09 lis 2012 19:49

tjelohraniteljica i zvijezda ....možda zvuči poznato?...Body Guard (The), Babysitting Charlie

THE BODY GUARD
By Mavis Applewater

Nadine followed Evie down the corridor of the five-star hotel that would be her home for the next few weeks. It would depend on how long it took to get her new client settled in a comfortable and safe environment. Despite her normally calm and collected demeanor she felt the slight stirring of butterflies in her stomach. Nadine wasn’t normally star struck since she provided security for all sorts of celebrities. But this wasn’t just another television actress she had been hired to protect; this was Charlene Jones. And the petite blonde-haired green-eyed television actress starred in Nadine’s favorite show. Charlene Jones had been appearing in her living room every Wednesday night since the show began. Ghost Town was a hokey sentimental clean-cut hour-long show. And Nadine had failed to miss a single episode since it first aired a few years ago. In fact, a commercial featuring the attractive blonde and her new series inspired Nadine to watch the first episode. Nadine was so completely hooked on the show that she had her VCR preprogrammed so it would record the show if she were called out of town on business or some other troublesome aspect of real life. The tall brunette would never admit to anyone that she watched the sappy show. And she was honest enough with herself to admit that if the show starred anyone other than Charlene Jones she wouldn’t bother watching. Evie had continued her spiel regarding the need to follow the confidentiality agreement that Nadine had signed earlier. Signing such an agreement wasn’t unusual in her line of work. Yet the way that Evie was pressing the binding nature of the contract was beginning to indicate to Nadine that something was wrong.

"You have to understand; Charlene is a very private person," Evie said as they neared the young star’s hotel suite which was located at the end of the hallway. "Ghost Town is about to air just enough episodes to sell it into syndication."

The thought of seeing Charlene in her fetching frontier costume, parading across her television screen five to six days a week, was more than a little appealing to the tall bodyguard. Still the overprotective and fearful tone in Evie’s voice was making Nadine nervous.

Evie seemed to catch the wary look in Nadine’s blue eyes. "Look, Charlene’s character, Tilly, is more wholesome and white bread than Shirley ‘Freaking’ Temple. Sometimes her fans have difficulty realizing that Charlene is a real person."

‘How bad is it?’ Nadine thought in a panic as they stopped just outside the star’s door. "I can understand that," Nadine offered in an effort to appease her new employer. "I’ve seen a lot of stuff in this business. My main concern and primary focus is to keep the client safe and their private life private," she explained honestly. "However I do not condone or cover up illegal activities," Nadine stressed.

"Nadine, your reputation for being good and discreet is the reason I hired you," Evie responded with a warm smile. "Trust me; Charlene isn’t into anything illegal or immoral. What I’m trying to explain is that Charlene is a real person. Her character is sweet and virtuous - a reputation that very few real adults could live up to. And the tabloids love to go after her just to sell their sleazy papers. So far they haven’t gotten anything they could print, which seems to be making them digging all that much harder. To give you an example, a few months back one of them sent a reporter to our hometown to see if they could find out who Charlene lost her virginity to."

"Our hometown?" Nadine questioned. "You’ve known Charlene for a long time, haven’t you?"

"You could say that," Evie responded with a light laugh. "I do want to warn you about something. At times the pressure gets to Charlie and she can be a real handful," Evie explained as she slid her keycard into the slot.

"Duly noted," Nadine acknowledged with a warm smile. Her mind wondered if the pretty little blonde could be as much of an overgrown spoiled brat as many of her other clients were.

"Okay then." Evie smiled as she started to open the door to Charlene’s suite. "I guess it’s time to meet the princess." As Evie swung the door open, her face fell. "Just great!" she spat out in horror as she burst into the living room of the posh suite.

Nadine followed closely and secured the door behind them. Her crystal blue eyes blinked in amazement as she took in the sight of her favorite television star buck-naked on the floor, sandwiched between two equally naked women. "That’s it, girls," the star slurred as her body rocked between the two women.

Evie’s face was flushed as she turned to Nadine. She looked up at Nadine with frightened green eyes as she brushed her curly blonde locks from her brow. Evie’s eyes searched Nadine’s chiseled features in an effort to gauge her reaction to the scene.

"I had a dream like this once," Nadine noted dryly as she swiftly crossed the room to retrieve an ugly straw handbag from the top of the wet bar. Something about the bag had caught the security specialist’s eye.

"Okay ladies, the party’s over!" Evie shouted as three pairs of startled eyes turned to her.

The naked women failed to notice Nadine who was busy yanking the videotape from the small video recorder she’d discovered in the straw handbag. When she smashed the camera, the redhead who was on top of the fleshy pile jumped up. "Hey!" she shouted in a sharp nasally voice.

Nadine glared at her as she began to unravel and shred the tape. The naked woman moved towards the tall brunette. "Don’t," Nadine cautioned with an icy growl that halted the working girl in her tracks.

"Who’s your tall friend, Evie?" Charlene slurred as she rolled off the blonde beneath her.

"Charming," Nadine grunted as she stared into the actress’ glassy green eyes. She then proceeded to search Charlene’s guests’ belongings.

"Those are my clothes," the second girl whined.

"I wouldn’t be so ready to admit to that," Nadine sneered as she searched the tacky clothing.

"Who do you think you are?" the blonde continued to whine with a high-pitched squeal.

"I’m gonna call the cops," the redhead threatened.

"No cops," Evie panicked.

"I’ll call them for you," Nadine volunteered with a shrug as she tossed the last of the women’s belongings onto the floor. She no longer wanted to touch the clothing now that she was completely convinced that there weren’t more hidden recording devices.

"What?" The working girls and Evie exclaimed in unison. Charlene laughed hysterically as she climbed up onto the sofa.

"I said that I would be more than happy to call the authorities," Nadine explained in a slow careful tone. The blonde began to frantically pull on her clothing while the redhead stood her ground. "Blackmail is a very serious crime."

"Blackmail?" the redhead scoffed. "We ain’t no leeches."

"Really? Then why the camera?" Nadine shot back as she picked up the telephone. "And why in Miss. Jones’ suite? Crystal, you should be ashamed of yourself," she added in disbelief as everyone looked around in an effort to figure out who Crystal was. "Well, if it isn’t blackmail and you were hired, then it’s prostitution. Not as serious but a crime just the same." She reached her long fingers towards the buttons on the telephone and halted her movements. "But when Miss Jones finds out, she’ll be very upset," she continued in a concerned voice as the other women looked at her strangely. "I’ll tell you what; I’ll let you and your friend off the hook if you tell us who hired you."

"Yeah right," the redhead scoffed.

"Hey, I don’t like this but someone hired you to have sex with Crystal in Miss Jones’ hotel room and I’d rather get my hands on that sleaze bucket than waste my time on the two of you," Nadine explained frankly.

"Who the hell is Crystal?" the redhead demanded.

"Crystal Rivera," Nadine offered in a bewildered tone as she pointed at the grinning Charlene. "Miss Jones’ body double," Nadine continued in exasperation.

Charlene leaned back on the sofa, ignoring her state of undress as she smirked at the scene unfolding before her.

"We did the wrong broad?" the whiney blonde exclaimed bitterly. "That’s just great. Now we won’t get paid."

"Shut up, will ya!" the redhead screeched as she began to get dressed. She turned to the smiling Charlene.

"Crystal Rivera?" she spat out in disbelief.

"Nice to meet you," Charlene greeted her with a small wave.

"Great," the redhead growled as she continued to put her clothes back on.

"This is the last straw, Crystal," Nadine muttered angrily. "I cannot believe you used Miss Jones’ room. You were supposed to be acting as a decoy so Miss Jones could visit the children’s hospital without the press finding out," Nadine stressed in a disgusted tone. "All she wanted to do was visit with those poor kids without it turning into a media circus."

"Whatever," Charlene blew out.

"That’s it. You’re fired," Nadine fumed, pleased that the actress was at least sober enough to play along. Evie simply watched the scene with a shocked expression.

"That goodie two shoes can suck my left . . . ," Charlene began.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," the redhead cut her off. "Look, the guy you want is Jerry Rainer. He hired us to get compromising pictures of Miss Jones. He does some freelance work for Hustler and some of the other sleazy rags," she explained as she wiggled into the last of her clothing and Nadine hung up the telephone. "You make me sick," she spat at Charlene before grabbing her friend and storming out of the hotel suite.

"I’m impressed," Evie offered in awe.

"Grab her something virginal to put on and then meet me in my room," Nadine said firmly.

"I get to go home with you?" Charlene purred as her head fell back.

"I’m not convinced that this suite is clear of listening devices," Nadine continued as she pulled her cell phone from her pocket. "Rivera?" she barked into the telephone. "I need a sweep done of Miss Jones’ suite. I also need you to set up a photo op at the children’s hospital. Meet me at the back entrance in a safe car in one hour." She snapped the telephone shut without bothering to say goodbye.

"So when are we going back to your place, hot stuff?" Charlene slurred from her perch on the sofa.

Nadine ignored the actress as she snatched up all of the remnants of the videotape and stuffed them into the pocket of her blazer. Then she brushed past the drunken starlet and went into the bedroom that was thankfully unused during the actress’ afternoon tryst. She continued on into the large bathroom and snatched the white terrycloth robe from the hook along with a large bath towel.

When she emerged from the bathroom she didn’t acknowledge Evie who was busy putting together suitable attire for their employer. She blazed a determined trail back into the living room to find Charlene passed out on the sofa. "Well, there’s one fantasy shot to hell," she grumbled as she knelt before the slumbering form. "Wakey wakey," she shouted as she lightly slapped Charlene’s cherubic cheeks.

Charlene Jones squeaked as her glassy eyes opened slightly. "Hey, hot stuff," she grumbled. Nadine opened her mouth to tell the blonde to get her duff in gear. Before she had the chance to speak, the tall brunette was pulled down on top of the blonde’s naked body as an eager mouth began to nibble on her own lips. Before she could object, her body reacted to the warmth of Charlene’s kiss. She parted her lips and allowed the blonde’s inquisitive tongue to explore the warmth of her mouth. Nadine’s knee parted Charlene’s firm thighs and pressed against the blonde’s wet mound while she cupped one of her breasts.

When the actress released a deep moan into her mouth, Nadine came to her senses and pulled herself up off her new employer’s naked body. "Don’t stop," Charlene panted in a needy voice.

"Ugh," Nadine groaned as she pulled the naked drunken woman to her feet. The blonde’s hands tried to fondle Nadine as she wrapped the robe around her body. As she tightened the belt, Evie entered the room. Nadine spun the swaying petite blonde around in an effort to keep the actress from groping her. "Is this what you meant by her being a handful?" Nadine inquired incredulously as she draped the towel over the blonde’s head to conceal her identity.

"I’m afraid so," Evie confessed in a bitter tone.

"Give me those clothes," Nadine requested as she held the drunken actress up. "I’m taking Miss Grabby Hands to my room, and after I sober her up she’s taking a little trip to the children’s hospital. Does she have anything scheduled for the rest of the day?"

"No. She did but her agent canceled," Evie explained as she handed over the simple flower-print dress.

"Then why don’t you give yourself a break?" Nadine offered. "I’ll babysit her and you can put your feet up for the rest of night."

"Really?" Evie inquired eagerly.

"Yes, really," Nadine reassured the weary assistant.

Nadine had to hold the drunken blonde up as she walked her down the hallway. Charlene was humming softly as they entered the modest room. Nadine tossed the actress’ wardrobe onto her bed. Then she guided the still humming blonde to the bathroom. The actress seemed to be lost in her own little world as Nadine yanked the bath towel from her head. Blonde hair flew everywhere as Charlene teetered slightly.

Nadine slid back the glass door to the shower and turned the shower water on to the coldest setting allowed. Then she removed the large white robe from the blonde’s body. "You like?" Charlene inquired as she stared up into Nadine’s crystal blue eyes with a slightly more focused gaze than she had earlier possessed.

"Not really," Nadine retorted snidely as she assisted the distracted blonde into the shower.

"Son of a bitch!" Charlene screamed as the icy water pelted her body. She tried to bolt out of the shower but Nadine blocked her path. "You heartless bitch," Charlene ranted as Nadine held her under the cold spray of water.

"You can adjust the temperature at any time," Nadine scolded her vehemently as Charlene’s teeth began to chatter.

The blonde’s unsteady hands quickly began to spin the faucet handles in an effort to increase the temperature. She tried to retreat towards the back of the shower, but Nadine’s long arms reached in and held her firmly in place as the brunette’s upper body became soaked.

"You’re enjoying this," Charlene screamed as she shivered.

"Yes," Nadine responded frankly as she felt the water warm up. She released her hold on the actress and left her alone in the bathroom. She left door open so she could be aware of any trouble.

She ordered a pot of coffee and a couple sandwiches from room service. Then she removed her damp blazer and blouse. She dried off and put on a fresh blouse as she listened to the sound of the shower running. She peeked in occasionally to reassure herself that her new employer hadn’t drowned. Just as she was signing for the coffee and sandwiches, Nadine heard the water shut off and the blow dryer turn on. She entered the bathroom and placed both cups of coffee and the sandwiches on the vanity. Charlene shyly pulled the towel that was wrapped around her body a little tighter. Without meeting Nadine’s eyes Charlene nodded, understanding that she was to eat both sandwiches and drink both cups of coffee. Later, when Nadine heard the blow dryer cease, she reentered the bathroom with another cup of coffee and the clothing Evie had selected for Charlene. The blonde still refused to meet Nadine’s gaze as she accepted the clothing and her third cup of coffee. Nadine picked up the plate and empty coffee cups and left the blonde to change into her clothing.

Nadine entered the bathroom once again with yet another cup of coffee. Charlene yelped in surprise as she quickly pulled her dress up. "Now you get shy?" Nadine grumbled as she placed the fresh cup of coffee down on the vanity.

"I’m no longer drunk," Charlene grunted as she ignored the icy stare Nadine was giving her.

"Good," Nadine snapped before leaving the stunned actress alone in the bathroom.

http://xenafiction.net/redir.cfm?sn=324 ... guard.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 11 lis 2012 21:07

rat u Somaliji ...tim Liječnika bez granica...

~ Denial ~
by Omega13

"Fucking militia," Felice pushed out. She tried to scream, but her lungs emptied. The sound of gunshot fire surrounded them. Her breath coming in hard gasps, she reached blindly for Celeste. "Do not let me die...Not here...Not in this."

The rain pounding, Celeste grasped Felice's hand. "I won't."

Eyes wide, Felice searched Celeste's face. "I wanted to go with you," she struggled out. "Meet your family."

Drenched, Celeste nodded. "You will." She pushed wet hair tenderly from Felice's face.

"Merde," Felice screamed. Gripping Celeste's hand, she writhed in pain. Her neck chording with effort, she shuddered, as she struggled to draw breath.

Freeing her hand from Felice's grip, Celeste threw open her medikit. "I think your lung's collapsed," she said searching through it.

"I can feel it," Felice squeezed out. "My lung," she replied watching Celeste tear the packaging from an oxygen mask. "It's leaking air with every breath." She reached up and tried to push away the mask Celeste was strapping to her ashen face. "I am," she sucked air in deeply, "suffocating."

Celeste pushed Felice's hand away. "It'll help you breathe."

Hands shaking so badly they belied her words, Celeste struggled to cover Felice's nose and mouth with the hard plastic. Ripping open the blood soaked front of blonde's white shirt, she looked at the hole and paled. Felice had a sucking chest wound. Examining the entry hole, Celeste fought back panic when Felice coughed blood into the mask. Shaking hard, she wiped the rain from her eyes and focused. She needed to occlude the wound. There was no doubt the lung had collapsed. The rain pouring down, Felice's' eyelids fluttered wildly. She gasped. Her throat opening fully, she sucked in air. Swallowing, she gagged on her own blood. Celeste quickly dug through her medikit. She almost screamed with frustration when there was no occlude dressing. Needing something at least three times the size of the wound to prevent the dressing from being sucked in, she fought back the nausea when her eyes fixed on the plastic wrapping discarded from the oxygen mask. She grabbed it then shook it, emptying the gathered rain. She pulled tape from her medikit. Drawing in a shaky breath, she began to tape the plastic around the wound.

"It hurts likes fuck!" Felice shouted shaking violently.

Hands slick with blood and rain, Celeste struggled to tape the wound. Eventually succeeding, she taped the hole on three sides, leaving a flap to make sure that any air within the chest cavity was released when it pressed on the lung.

Felice pulled the oxygen mask down and whispered between breaths, "How long...do I have?"

Celeste looked at Felice, and tried to ignore the look of abject terror. Heart clenching, she opened her mouth but nothing came out.

"How long?" Felice gasped.

Celeste didn't answer. As doctors, they both knew that in emergency medicine, the first hour after a devastating injury is the golden hour when every minute counts in the battle to save a life. Survival depends on whether doctors can stabilize a patient during those sixty minutes, keeping the vital ABCs of major trauma clear and steady; airway, breathing, and circulation.

Celeste looked up. Momentary relief washed over her when she saw James with another field nurse run toward her. "Thank God, you responded quickly," she yelled at him.

Eyes wide, Celeste looked at the carnage around her; the militia had been brutal today. She and Felice were part of Medicines san Frontières emergency medical team. She had been here in Somalia for almost a year and Felice a few months. Their team arrived in the camp a week ago to treat what should have been basic problems within the compound, but the last few days, they struggled with the number of gunshot wounds.

"Tell me!" Felice gasped.

Celeste needed to get Felice to a trauma center, and onto an operating table. Convinced that some how she could pull Felice through, her throat squeezed tight and she whispered, "You've got time."

James dropped on his knees, and into a puddle beside them. "Jesus," he said staring at Felice.

Celeste glanced over her shoulder to the other nurse who was running to the injured young boy near her. Since, the team had arrived, the militia surrounding the camp made it clear they had a shoot-to-kill policy should any interns try to leave. To Celeste's utter despair, they were utilizing the policy liberally.

"What happened?" James asked as he stared at Felice, lying grey and in a crumpled heap.

"We were waiting for the helicopter to arrive," Celeste replied. "And he, "she indicated to the boy that the other nurse was working on, "ran toward us with a solider chasing him." Celeste dug through her medikit. "The maniac was firing at him. The only reason the bastard stopped shooting was when he realized his Captain was with us. "Rage etched her face. "But by that time Felice and the boy were down." She looked upward. "Where's the helicopter?"

"The helicopter was shot at on its way here. It caused some sort of mechanical failure." Rain flew off James's head when he shook it. "It's not coming."

"What?" Celeste said, looking at James in disbelief.

"It's gone," James replied slowly, as if fully absorbing what that actually meant.

"What are the options?" Celeste snapped.

"We can't stay. The soldiers are on a killing spree. It's no longer just about the people trying to leave the compound. They're killing at random." He searched through the medikit and yelled over a burst of gunfire." We have to evacuate by road. The ambulances are ready."

"Fuck!" Celeste shouted. "How many are down."

Eyes wide James looked at her. "Too many." He shook his head. "We can't take them all."

Aware of how poorly equipped the few ambulances were in this compound; Celeste fought another wave of nausea. She knew he meant that they should only take the ones who would survive the journey. The road blocks that the militia had set up between the compound and the hospital meant that getting there would be difficult.

James worked on Felice. "Her pupils are sluggish." He pumped up a blood pressure cuff then slapped a stethoscope on the crook of her arm. "How much blood has she lost?"

Hiding her fear, Celeste said in clipped, professional tones, "Too much." She quickly relayed Felice's vital stats. Once a person has lost twenty to twenty-five percent of their blood volume, the blood pressure will plummet and the body's organs will go into crisis and start to shut down. With the lack of oxygen and blood loss, Felice was struggling to stay conscious.

Celeste worked and talked. She prayed that the blast's heat had cauterized the internal wounds enough to keep the blood loss down. "She has a punctured lung. It's collapsed. I've plugged it. I'm getting a line in. There's a pressure dressing on her chest wound," she said opening an IV line.

"She's shocked already," James said letting the air hiss out of the cuff.

Celeste eyes widened. She thought back to the luxury of her internship where a number of people would work to save a shoot victim: doctors, nurses, x-ray technicians and a surgeon, all of them working to stop the internal bleeding. But here in Somalia, in the middle of a war, in this compound, she was now the lone doctor.

James grabbed Celeste's arm. "She's unconscious," he said beginning to panic. "We can't stabilize her here!" He hurriedly stood when the ambulance careered to a stop near them. "She's taken a K6 hit. We need to get her out of here fast."

Standing, Celeste gagged when bile swamped her mouth. She spat it out. Her hands balled into fists as the rain battered down. His words verbalized what she didn't want to hear, K6 meant Felice had been hit in the kill zone.

Opening the door, Maggie yelled in surprise when a branch smacked her on the face. Spluttering, she stepped back and spat a leave out. "Josh, what the hell have you got there?"

"What does it look like?" Josh muffled from behind the large plant pot he was struggling to hold. "Here, grab the base and help me bring it inside."

Maggie opened the door wide and grabbed the base. "Jeez," she said struggling through the doorway. "Does, Amy think we live in the city park!" She moved backward. "Has nobody told her these things are meant for the outside?"

"It's for the new house," Josh replied, following her through the front door.

"Why aren't you going around the backyard?"

"I need a hand."

They made their way down the hall and out to the backyard.

"It's beginning to look like a safari park out here," Maggie said lowering the base. "Jesus, Josh. You should never have encouraged her to leave Scotland. Cold weather equals fewer plants."

"Well, she's here Maggie," he replied digging through the foliage to find her. "I thought you coming to Florida with her would keep her plant fetish under control."

Maggie rustled through the foliage to find him. She smiled. "Even I wouldn't tackle her when it comes to this stuff. She should have studied landscape gardening not bloody architecture." She straightened. "I thought you two were going to Irene's barbeque?"

"We are," Josh replied. Standing, he stretched his back. "But, Amy's got early bird syndrome. She wants to get things organized for the new house." He yawned. "She takes after her Mom that way."

"Yeah, let's hope that's the only thing she takes from Irene," Maggie replied, eyes narrowing.

Josh laughed then shook his head. "That's another grudge you can notch up against Amy's Mom."

"No kidding," Maggie answered as she walked into the kitchen

"Hi," Amy said, putting the plant pots she was carrying on the work surface.

"Hey, Jellybean." Maggie replied. "Have you any idea what time it is?" she asked looking at her watch. She smiled. "Didn't anyone tell you that weekends are specifically designed for bed and lots of sex?"

Amy smiled at her cousin. Maggie had a fiery mop of short red hair, and the most amazing green eyes. At five foot seven, Amy wasn't small, but Maggie's six foot frame easily towered over her, particularly when she wore her biker boots.

"I'm motivated to get out of bed Maggie," Amy replied, "because, in less than two months, I'll be married and moving house." She grinned. "Normally, when those two things collide there's a lot needing done."

Maggie shrugged and opened the fridge.

Amy eyed her cousin. "Just in?"

"Ermmm," Maggie replied hesitantly as she looked in the fridge. "Yes." Pulling out some snack food, she closed the fridge door. She looked at Amy and sounding sheepish added, "How did you know?"

"Amy smiled. "You're bed-head hair for one."

"Oh," Maggie replied. Grinning, she ran a hand through her disheveled hair.

Amy looked at her cousin and thought that no matter how carefully constructed Maggie's tomboy exterior was, there was no hiding her features she was a stunner.

"Bye," Josh said kissing Amy briefly.

Amy looked at him in surprise. "Where are you going?" she asked when he walked to the kitchen door.

"I'm going to meet up with my sister?"

"But what about the barbeque?" Amy asked.

"It's okay, hon," Josh said, leaning on the doorframe. "I'm just going to pick Celeste up, she's staying with Alex. We'll be at the barbeque by three, I promise."

Amy smiled at him. "Okay."

"See you later, Maggie," Josh called out as he made his way down the hall.

"Bye-bye, Joshie boy," Maggie called after him. She looked at Amy. "I didn't know his sister was here?"

Amy nodded. "She flew in a few days ago."

Taking a carton of apple juice out of the fridge, Maggie filled two glasses with juice.

"Thanks," Amy said taking a glass. "You're coming this afternoon aren't you?"

Maggie shrugged. "Maybe."

"No maybe, Maggie. We agreed."

Maggie pulled a face.

"Oh, c'mon Maggie," Amy said holding the cool glass to her forehead. "Don't pull this stunt on me. Not today."

"It's your mother," Maggie said leaning against the breakfast bar. "She's always interfering."

"Maggie," Amy replied putting her glass down. "She's not interfering. She just wants things to go smoothly. And today, she wants to get together to talk about the wedding."

Maggie scowled.

Wanting to ignore her cousin's unhappy face, Amy closed her eyes briefly.

"She's taken over everything," Maggie said before slugging three-quarts of her glass.

Amy tried another tack. "I need you there."

Maggie sighed. "How's the house coming along?" she asked, deftly changing the subject.

Amy raised her eyebrows. "Do you want the short or long version?"

Maggie half grinned. "A one liner, thank you."

"Brilliant."

"What are you like?" Maggie said then grinned fully. "It's only six months since we've moved here. Soon you'll be getting hitched, and all you can think about is brick and mortar." Maggie looked at Amy. "It's true isn't it, you're way more excited about building that house and your new job at that wee architect's firm than you've ever been about the wedding?"

Amy shrugged then smiled.

Maggie shook her head. "Unbelievable." "You know," she said. "I think Irene's a tad upset that I haven't decided want I'm wearing to walk you down the aisle."

"No wonder," Amy replied then grinned. "You keep insisting that you're going to wear some crazy outfit!"

"There's nothing wrong with an Elvis ensemble," Maggie said sounding indignant. "I keep telling you, it's not the outfit but the location that's the problem." She winked. "If you'd stuck with my original suggestion to get hitched in Vegas, my outfit would be perfect."

"Aye," Amy replied, her eyes wide. "And God only knows what outfit you would have chosen for me to wear."

Maggie wiggled her eyebrows. "Something definitely x-rated."

Amy tried to hide her grin. "Are you going to stop antagonizing her?"

"It's Irene's fault," Maggie answered, her face suddenly downcast. "She isn't happy that I'm giving you away. And she's seriously unhappy that I won't wear that stupid dress."

"You're only being asked to wear the same dress as Caitlin and Rosie."

Maggie leaned her long frame against the kitchen counter. "You're joking aren't you?" She stared at Amy then ran a hand through her fiery red hair. "You've seen the dresses haven't you?"

Amy nodded.

"Amy your wee sisters are kids. And when you're a kid, it's just marginally acceptable, to be dressed like a fucking fairy hanging from a Christmas tree!"

"Aw c'mon Maggie, the dresses are fine," Amy replied. "Admit it you're just phobic about having to actually put a dress on." She blew out her breath. "Please, Maggie. It's only for one day."

Maggie shrugged. "We'll talk about the wedding later."

"Why?" Amy asked.

"I need to shower and get organized for this thing today," Maggie replied moving toward the door.

Relieved, Amy smiled. "I'm glad you're coming."

Maggie stopped at the kitchen door. "Last to get ready has to make dinner every night this week." She grinned at Amy before tearing down the hallway.

"Hey," Amy yelled bolting after her. "No way is it going to be me this time!"

Chapter 3

"Amy, "Josh said from the edge of the pool. "Come in for a swim."

"No. Not just now," Amy replied. "But I will in a wee while." She laughed when her half sisters, Caitlin and Rosie ran up to Josh and pulled on his hands.

"Josh," Caitlin said excitedly, jumping up and down. "Play with us?"

Josh raised his eyebrows at Amy a few times. "See. I told you I'm irresistible to women." He grabbed a gleeful Caitlin. "Especially to six-year old girls."

Whooping, Josh jumped with Caitlin into the pool.

Four-year old Rosie squealed with delight then jumped in after them.

Smiling, Amy watched Josh and the girls play.

"Amy," Maggie called.

Turning, Amy looked round to see Maggie on a sun lounger. Making her way over to her, she took the lounger next to her lanky cousin, and stretched out.

Passing, Irene caught Amy's eye and smiled at her. Since Amy's mother found out about the wedding, she had taken charge of all the arrangements as any devoted parent does, but this new devotion struck a note of irony with Amy. It had been years since she had been close to her mother. They were, in fact, strangers. Ten years ago, Irene divorced her father and moved from Scotland to Sarasota with her new husband Bruce. Living in Scotland, Amy hadn't had much contact with her over in years. Sheer serendipity brought them together now.

"You know I'm only joking about the outfit," Maggie said passing Amy a beer. "Your Dad would have thought me wearing an Elvis outfit hilarious."

Amy drew in a sharp breath then briefly closed her eyes, hiding their bleakness. Last year her father died suddenly from an aneurysm, and as much as she loved Maggie. She still found it too painful to talk about him. Opening her eyes, Amy looked at her cousin. Maggie tilted her head and mouthed the word sorry.

Amy smiled then shrugged. "It's up to you Maggie. It's your choice what you want to wear, but enough with winding her up." She drank some beer. "I need you to get serious."

Maggie's eyes dropped to her beer bottle, she frowned then huffed a little as she peeled the label. "You know, I wish Irene hadn't taken over the wedding arrangements. She's taken it from small thing into the wedding of the bloody year." She ripped the label off. "She's totally ignored the fact that you wanted the whole thing to be low key."

"Listen," Amy said. "She's doing her best. You know I've spent hardly any time with her over the years. I'm twenty-four, Maggie. She's missed a huge part of my life, and you know better than anyone that there is a lot of -"

"I know," Maggie interrupted. "There are a lot of unresolved issues." She smiled apologetically. "And I know that I'm not helping the situation."

"This is her way of making up for lost time," Amy said. "And I don't have the heart to tell her that the wedding is getting out of hand." She fired a warning look at her cousin. "I don't want you telling her either." Amy's brow furrowed. "We're lucky she's doing it. I've got too much else going on with my job and the house." She tried to glower at Maggie but her voice held too much affection. "And you're no help."

"You know I can't stand the fanaticism that surrounds weddings." Maggie said. She drank some beer. "I know that it's good that she's organizing things." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "And it's a relief she offered to deal with some," she bracketed her fingers, "of the wedding arrangements because you and Josh are so busy." She glanced sharply at Irene. "But, she's gone too far. She's taken over the asylum."

"I can't stand wedding mania either, but it's only going to be for one day," Amy replied. "And I need you to stop making such a big fuss."

Maggie didn't say anything.

Amy sipped her beer, aware that she shouldn't worry because regardless of her back chat, Maggie wouldn't let her down. "Anyway," she said. "I can't talk about the wedding anymore. I just need you to promise that you're going to work with Irene on this." She looked at Maggie. "Okay?"

Maggie nodded. "Okay. I'll try." She shrugged and spread out her hands. "But she's got to meet me half way." She threw Amy a warning look. "It doesn't matter what Irene says there is no way I'm wearing a dress. I mean it, Amy. You know how I like the rough and ready biker look." She ran a hand through her short, red hair. "I haven't worn a dress since I was at school, and even then it was a struggle to get me into one."

Taking a mouthful of beer, Amy swirled it around then swallowed. "Remember, it's only for one day."

Maggie nodded then looked over at Irene. "I still think it's weird that you end up settling in a place where your mother stays." She slugged some beer. "What do you think the odds are of that happening?"

"Maggie the odds aren't that great when my own mother gave Josh my number."

"Yeah," Maggie replied teasingly. "Like I said, she's always interfering."

Amy rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," Maggie said. "What I'm wearing shouldn't matter. All that matters is that on the day, the bride looks beautiful." She grinned. "And, you my beautiful younger cousin are gorgeous. You get more beautiful everyday. Do you know that?"

"Och, away you go, Maggie Forsythe," Amy replied. "Sweet talking me isn't going to work." She growled playfully. "You'll still need to sort things out with Irene."

"Okay, maybe I am trying to sweet talk you, Amy," Maggie replied. "But look at you." She threw out her arms. "You're sizzling hot."

Amy smiled but didn't bite.

"Honestly," Maggie said shaking her head. "Why do you think Josh is desperate to marry you?"

About to answer, Maggie held up a hand to Amy. Eyes dancing with humor, she said, "Look I know you've been going out with him for a while, but don't tell me he's getting hitched to you because of your personality or God forbid, your brains!"

Amy nodded then teased, "What else?"

"What else!" Maggie exclaimed. "You are arm candy, honey!" She pushed her shades down the bridge of her nose and eyed Amy. "What do you call a blonde with half a brain?"

Playfully, crossing her eyes, Amy replied, "Uh, dunno?"

"Gifted!" Maggie replied. Winking, she pushed her shades back up her nose.

Amy laughed.

"Make no mistake," Maggie said. "Your brain isn't the asset that he's after. " Nope. He's keen to nail you permanently because it's them other assets he wants." She rolled her hands in front of her own breasts then cupped them. "And, believe me, sweetie, he's marrying you because he wants them assets all to himself."

Amy grinned.

Maggie looked at her. "You've got a real sizzling pair of boobs there, Amy. And Joshie boy wants to be the only one who knows just how firm and pert they are."

"Maggie," Amy said laughing. "Enough!"

Maggie pointed a finger at Amy. "If I had tits like yours, I'd be published in every hot magazine there was."

Amy shook her head.

Maggie looked from Amy to Celeste. "Talking about great tits, she's something else isn't she?"

Amy looked over to where Maggie was indicating. She watched Celeste join Josh and the kids in the pool. She nodded.

"Didn't you meet her when she came to stay in Glasgow for a few days last year?" Maggie asked.

"Yes," Amy responded watching Celeste.

Shading her eyes, Maggie murmured as she looked at Celeste, "Ah. Now I remember it was the summer time?"

"It was her only visit to see Josh when he was there finishing his studies," Amy answered eyeing Celeste.

"I must have been hiking."

Amy nodded. Maggie was a keen hiker.

"Yes, I remember now," Maggie said opening another beer. "You two didn't get along. There was a bit of fracas wasn't there at the airport or something?"

"Hardly a fracas, Maggie," Amy said frowning. "We just didn't click, and before you ask," she raised a hand, "I'm going to make a real effort to get on with her this time."

Eyeing Celeste, Amy recalled the first time they met. She had been dating Josh for about a year and was as nervous as hell about meeting his twin. Back then, all she knew was that Celeste worked for Médecins sans Frontières, and although based in Paris, she seemed to be permanently on assignments. Amy's eyes narrowed as she recalled the time that Celeste spent a few days with them.
Amy was nervous about meeting Celeste. Standing in the airport terminal, she watched Josh hug his sister, and was immediately fascinated by how strikingly similar she was in coloring and complexion to her brother. Dark haired, Celeste had that enviable type of shoulder length hair with a great shine. She was a few inches shorter than Josh's height of six foot two and her striking hazel-green eyes blazed with happiness as she smiled and kissed her brother. Watching Celeste, Amy noted the strong chin, high cheekbones, and the small but noticeable scar that ran from the corner of her right eye to the tip of her cheekbone. She hadn't noticed the scar in the photographs but, in the flesh, it seemed only to enhance her sultry looks. Releasing his sister, Josh turned to introduce Amy. Squaring her shoulders, Amy sucked in her breath, only to let it out slowly when she saw a look of surprise flash across Celeste's face.

"Hi," Amy said holding out her hand.

Celeste took her hand, and looked Amy over. Although she was quick to hide it, it was evident that she was shocked by Amy's appearance. Blushing heavily, Amy realized that Celeste probably couldn't believe that this frazzled, bruised and battered creature standing before her was, in fact, her brother's fiancée. Amy was in her final year at university studying architecture. The day before, she had completed her first project; a small extension to a farmhouse. When she was leaving, she made the fatal mistake of admiring the farmer's horses, telling him that she hadn't ridden since she was as a child. Back into the saddle, within minutes the gentle mare he told her to ride threw her then sauntered off to feed. Feeling as if she had been beaten around the head a few times, Amy went along with the farmer when he insisted that she visit the hospital. Although the visit confirmed that nothing but her pride was seriously hurt, she promised as she left the ER nursing sore knees and a burst nose that nothing short of a frontal lobotomy would force her back in the saddle. It wasn't until the next morning, staring at the mirror, that she saw the full impact of that evil little mare's antics. Mouth open, Amy eyed her cartoonishly bruised face, which reflected back an enormous black eye, a massive fat lip, and a nose so swollen, it could hide a small country.

Standing in front of Celeste, at the airport, Amy tried giving the brunette her most charming smile, but the swelling made it lopsided. She said with confidence she didn't have, "Nice to meet-"

"Hey, sis, I'm sorry we're late," Josh interrupted.

Staring at Josh, Amy wished for the zillionth time that she hadn't allowed him to talk her into coming this morning. They were late because up until an hour ago, she was under her bed cover refusing to come out. Eventually, Josh convinced her to come explaining that, as a doctor, his sister had treated all kinds of injuries, and she was hardly going to be fazed by a few bruises, now was she? Boy was he wrong, Amy thought, as Celeste stared at the large purple swelling around her eye.

Celeste slowly dropped Amy's hand, "No problem, Josh."

Self consciously, Amy fingered the hem of her old loose-fitting sweatshirt, which was covered in paint. Although she was studying architecture, painting was her passion. Completely preoccupied with her face, she had forgotten about her appearance and, this morning, running late, had hastily thrown the first thing that came to hand. Suddenly embarrassed, by how shabby and how much of a bruiser she must appear, she clasped her hands tightly together.

"Did you get the number of the truck that hit you," Celeste asked.

Feeling fragile, and not sure if the comment held a little more teasing than sympathy, Amy frowned.
Josh laughed then winked at Amy.

Self consciously, Amy began to explain, "I-"

"I've really missed you, Celeste," Josh interrupted then beamed a huge grin at sister.

Amy closed her eyes briefly, and fought an unusual urge to whack him for being so bloody dense. He was completely oblivious to how awkward the situation was, and how bad she actually looked.

"I've missed you too," Celeste said then grinned at him.

Hugging her again, Josh whispered, "I can't believe it's been so long." He gripped her shoulders and looked at her. "I mean, you'd think we'd have seen each other more, with you living in Paris and me here finishing my PhD. I'd have thought we'd have gotten some time together!" He shook his head then let her go. "But, every time I try to catch up with you, you're off on some mercy mission, Nigeria for vaccinations then Honduras, then Nicaragua." Letting her go he ticked the various locales with his fingers. "Guatemala for the hurricanes." He shook his head. "Where are you going next?"

"Somalia."

"For how long," Josh asked.

"I don't know," Celeste replied. "It depends how long they need me."

He grinned then kissed her cheek. "What does it matter now, huh? You're here, and in one piece."

Celeste smiled. Well, some part of me is here" She frowned. "It seems that my luggage is winging its way somewhere else as we speak."

A small slight woman approached wearing an airline uniform. "Ms Cameron, it's not great news," she said looking at her watch. "Your luggage is scheduled to arrive in London in the next hour."

The airline official's cell phone rang, and she moved off without excusing herself. A low growl of frustration escaped Celeste's mouth. "In this current climate, how the hell is that possible. Josh," she said. "I don't care what happens with my luggage anymore." She eyed the official coldly. "It's taken me a very long thirty-six hours to get here. And I've had enough." Sounding resolute she added, "I need to get the hell out of here."

Startled, Amy watched Celeste turn and walk away. She blinked a few times when Josh pointed to the official. "Amy, could you give her my contact details?"

Astonished, Amy watched Celeste leave, and unable to believe that Josh would leave her alone looking the way she did, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "You've got to be joking!" She glared at him then pointed in Celeste's direction. "I know she's had a long journey but what kind of comment is that about a truck hitting me!" Amy asked. "Isn't she supposed to be in the caring profession for Christ sake?"

"Honey, please could you sort it out?" Josh put his hands on Amy's shoulders then slid them down her arms. Rubbing them, he watched his sister disappear. "Look," he said frowning. "It's obvious that because you're here, your injuries aren't that serious. She would have assessed that immediately."

Amy tutted and lowered her eyes.

"Celeste gets really cranky when she's lagged," he appeased then smiled at her as if the explanation excused his sister's behavior.

"I'll take her to the car and meet you out front in a few minutes, okay?"

Before she had a chance to respond, Josh was gone. Fuming, Amy cursed them both as the airline official approached her.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/omega13_denial.lit
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 12 lis 2012 23:22

poznata pjevačka zvijezda... zlostavljanje partnerice...

~ Nature of the Beast ~
by Cheyne Curry

Caprice knew something was terribly wrong but she couldn't pry out of Hannah what it was. First, Hannah returned from the shed without a beer and told her they were leaving immediately and didn't say a word all the way to the car. Second, Hannah let her drive, which never happened, then ignored Caprice and just looked out the window, silently seething until they got to Caprice's row house apartment.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, Hannah slapped Caprice suddenly and fiercely across the face with an open hand. The force of the blow knocked Caprice back against the door. Before Caprice could react, Hannah grabbed Caprice, held her head steadily in her hands and forced Caprice to look at her. "I thought we agreed that you weren't fucking me for bragging rights!" Hannah finally screamed at her.

Caprice was furious and frightened. There were tears in her eyes from the sting and shock of the slap. She struggled to get out of Hannah's grip but she couldn't. Hannah was too strong and her anger only seemed to make her strength more potent. Caprice grabbed Hannah's wrists and finally wrenched Hannah's hands off her face. "What is wrong with you? Why did you hit me like that?"

"I don't like being used," Hannah spit out. Her jaw was set and the hostility in her eyes was spine-chilling.

"What are you talking about?" Caprice was desperate to understand what had just happened. Hannah slammed her sideways, against the wall, which knocked the wind out of Caprice. When she caught her breath she yelled, "Stop it, you're scaring me!"

Hannah leaned toward her, threateningly. "You should be scared. Scared of losing me. You ever do that to me again and I'm gone." Hannah backed off and started to move away.

Caprice's outrage at that remark overrode her common sense and she grabbed Hannah by the arm. "I don't know what I've done but if you ever hit me again, you're right. You are gone!"

Hannah turned around and took a fistful of Caprice's hair. She proceeded to drag Caprice down the hall. "Oh, really? You'd leave me?" There was an incredulous tone to Hannah's voice. It made her sound even more sinister.

"Let me go! Jesus, Hannah, you're hurting me!" Caprice fought to get free of her, to no avail.

Without another word and what seemed like little effort, Hannah deflected the swats and flailing arms and threw Caprice on the bed. No matter how hard Caprice tried to get free, Hannah was clearly stronger and evidently empowered by Caprice's actions. Hannah straddled Caprice, settled her knees on Caprice's arms and then sat back, rendering Caprice's legs immobile.

"What are you doing? Stop! Hannah, no! Please stop!" It was as though she was now detached from her body and the voice she heard plead was that of a helpless stranger. Caprice was not helpless and once again attempted to break free to get out of what she suspected was about to happen. The woman that sat astride her was now also a stranger?a dangerous one.

Hannah cuffed Caprice a couple more times until Caprice stopped twisting and squirming. Caprice was now almost paralyzed by fear. That and frustration caused her to begin to cry, especially when Hannah tore off all of Caprice's clothes.

"Please, Hannah?please don't do this?" Caprice's cries were now anguished whispers. They fell on deaf ears.

Hannah put one hand on Caprice's throat and viciously entered her with the four fingers of the other. Caprice cried out with the sharp pain that accompanied that first thrust. Caprice was not prepared for the invasion and the continued forceful pumping was agonizing as Hannah positioned herself so that she could ride Caprice's thigh at the same time. Hannah removed her hand from Caprice's neck and used her forearm to cross over Caprice's upper arms to keep Caprice from moving. The grunting noises that matched Hannah's rhythm repulsed Caprice. This can't be happening, Caprice thought, panicked. Four fingers inside her were too much and she suffered each torturous push as the agony drove her to nearly blackout. There was nothing sexy or passionate about what was happening so no one was more disgustingly surprised than she was when she began to feel the rumblings of an orgasm in her loins. She fought the urge but Hannah alerted on her breathing changes and she knew exactly where to touch Caprice to make her respond. When Caprice reluctantly climaxed, she did so as quietly as possible. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage Hannah to continue or make her think this was something Caprice enjoyed. She was horrified at her body's betrayal, which now added to her shame. Finally, Hannah harnessed whatever pleasure she got from the assault, exploded in her own orgasm and collapsed heavily on top of Caprice. Hannah perspired profusely and gasped for air. The room was suddenly still. The only sound was Hannah's heavy breathing and Caprice's sobbing. Hannah was still on top of Caprice and slowly rose out of her trance. Caprice's crying began to affect Hannah and her reaction was one of unexpected comfort. Hannah kissed Caprice's head and face gently and spoke to her in a soothing tone. Hannah relaxed her death grip on Caprice and held her, reassuringly.

"Shhhh, shhhh, it's okay, baby. It'll be okay. I'm sorry I hit you. I'm so sorry. I overreacted. I just get a little crazy sometimes if I think someone I love is using me. I should have known better. I'll never hit you again, I promise." Hannah smoothed Caprice's damp hair and continued to kiss her on the side of her head.

Caprice couldn't believe what she was hearing. No apology for sexually assaulting her, not even an acknowledgement of it. "Y-you hurt m-me," Caprice managed to get out between sobs.

"I know, I know, baby, and I'm sorry." Hannah positioned herself so that she could cradle Caprice and console her better. "It was wrong for me to hit you."

"You raped me," Caprice said, quietly. Even as the words slipped from her mouth, they sounded surreal.

Hannah raised her head and regarded Caprice with what sounded like genuine shock. "I what? What are you talking about? I can't rape you; I'm a woman. We had make-up sex, baby. Yeah, it was a little rough but I thought that's how you liked it now." Hannah's voice continued to hold a soothing quality that Caprice found sickening.

As Hannah began to rock her, Caprice shook her head in protest, "No, that's not what it was." She realized that her words might provoke another outburst from Hannah so she clutched Hannah's arms close to her chest, hoping Hannah did not react angrily. "You beat me up, then you forced me to have sex with you."

Hannah interpreted Hannah's holding her arm as 'loving'. "Shhh, no, no, baby, I didn't. I reacted badly to the thought of being arm candy at your friend's house. I hit you a couple times and I admit that was wrong. But I didn't beat you up and I certainly didn't force you to do anything. You were more than ready for me, remember? You came. Didn't seem forced to me."

The reminder that Caprice had climaxed provoked another racking sob to escape. Caprice shook her head. "I was fighting you! I was telling you to stop!"

"That's how we usually play, babe."

Caprice continued to cry as she was now totally humiliated and confused. She could not pretend that her body didn't react to some of Hannah's actions. What did that mean? Did Hannah really rape her or did Hannah misinterpret her response as their normal sex play?

"Baby, you can't do this?you can't get me all hot and bothered and suddenly remember that you're mad at me and change your mind in the middle and turn around and call it rape. First of all, I can't rape you; I don't have the equipment and second, if it was a little too rough, I was only taking my cues from your struggling."

"I need to take a shower," Caprice said, in a barely audible voice.

Hannah released her and started to get up with her. "I'll take one with you."

"No!" Caprice whirled and put up her hand in a halting motion. She willed herself to calm down. "Please, no, Hannah. I'm?very sore and I'd like to take a shower alone."

"I promise I won't do anything but wash your back," Hannah assured her. She held out her hand to Caprice.

Caprice did not want a repeat of what just happened and was terrified of invoking Hannah's wrath again. She nodded and took Hannah's hand. Mercifully, Hannah kept her promise and when they left the shower, Caprice went back to bed while Hannah went to the kitchen to make herself a snack. When Hannah crawled back into bed, she curled her body around Caprice's and fell sound asleep. Caprice wept most of the night. The next morning, Hannah behaved like nothing at all had happened. She was bright and cheerful and brewed a pot of coffee. She brought Caprice a cup and sat on the edge of the bed while Caprice sipped at the hot beverage.

Caprice had called in sick and told Hannah she didn't feel well to which Hannah stated that she couldn't risk contracting anything that would affect her singing voice. Hannah left Caprice with a tender kiss and an "I'll call you," and left for Philadelphia.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/cheyne_c ... beast.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 14 lis 2012 21:06

mala čita Sumrak, Vampirsku akademiju...gleda True Blood, Vampirske dnevnike...pa je i mene pomalo zarazila tim pričama i filmovima o besmrtnim i nadnaravnim bićima:)

~ The Familiar ~
by Rhuarc Black

Kalia could hear the running feet behind her but did not turn to look. She knew they were after her. The bleeding injury on her shoulder was testimony to their intentions. She ran as fast as she could, but the footsteps were getting closer and closer. She never saw the drain hole that tripped her, sending her flying against a dumpster. Her eyes rose to the waxing moon on the black sky and then darkness descended. The next thing she knew was the smell of urine mixed with blood. Her own blood but somebody else's urine. She opened her eyes slowly determined to go down fighting. She could not win, but she would fight anyway. The man pissing on her was smiling beatifically, his long canines flashing in the moonlight. She was on him before he even registered her awakening. She had to grit her teeth against the pain emanating from her injured shoulder at the sudden movement. She pummelled him about the face, feeling bones break under her fist. She felt like crowing but screamed instead as she felt hands grab her. Someone dug at her shoulder. Her scream of pain echoed in the alleys. She fought and thrashed vainly trying to hit and bite her attackers. There were more than one. Strange hands gripped her body. Someone bit her shoulder just above where the round had gone through her, tearing a chunk of flesh, and making her grunt. Blood flowed freely down her arm to mingle with the sluggish flow of the bullet wound. Her hands were wrenched behind her back in a vice-like grip and a painful blow to her head sent her to her knees.

The one who had been pissing on her came to stand in front of her. His snigger made her anger rise. "See how you like it now, bitch."

Kalia looked up at his smashed face and his brutish features trying to ignore the waves of dizziness that assaulted her at every minute movement of her head. What sort of idiot turned someone as ugly as that, a small voice in her head wondered inanely. The sword in his hand flashed in the moonlight and she knew that was the end. She closed her eyes and imagined the moon over the rugged mountains of Transylvania. The whine of the gunshot sounded obscenely loud in the small alley and Kalia felt blood spray all over her. Her eyes opened just in time to see the man fall at her feet, his face blown away. The body was still falling when the second shot echoed and she felt herself falling backwards dragged down by the grip on her hands. A hoarse scream left her throat as her injured shoulder was dragged backwards. The grip loosened convulsively and she crawled away swallowing down the nausea that rose in her throat. She was losing too much blood and it was weakening her. Her head swam at every movement but Kalia gritted her teeth in defiance. She got to her knees as quickly as possible. Her eyes scanned the alley desperately for whoever had shot the men. She saw the third man drawing out his sword.

A voice startled her, deep challenging. "Where is she, bloodsucker?"

Kalia looked quickly at the mouth of the alley where the voice was coming from. It was shrouded in shadows. Only the glint of a gun's silvery barrel revealed the presence of her saviour.

The man with the sword spoke in a mocking tone, his eyes searching the shadows at the mouth of the alley. "I enjoyed fucking your woman, trash. She liked it too."

Kalia wondered at the stupidity of the man. Two of his own are dead and he stands there playing games with their killer. In his place, I would be running away as fast as possible. The round's shrill whine reverberated in the closed confines of the alley but the man moved quick as the wind. It was a blink of an eye. One moment he was standing there, the next he was at the mouth of the alley, sword raised high. A part of her admired the move. The man is a good soldier, not like the other two idiots. His gurgled cry echoed underneath the sounds of the city and his sword fell clattering on the cold concrete. Kalia saw the glint of a blade sticking out of his back and then disappear as it was pulled back out. He fell to his knees as blood gushed out of his mouth. Kalia gasped as the glittering arc of the sword lopped off his head in one smooth stroke. A patch of shadow was moving towards her, bloody sword in hand. Kalia struggled to her feet and tried to identify the shape coming towards her. She gritted her teeth hard trying to keep the scream of pain from leaving her lips. Her shoulder hurt as if there was a fire on her flesh and her head swam from shock and loss of blood. Relief battled fear. The simple design on the blade, bathed crimson in the moonlight, identified her saviour as an Ottewald. Still Kalia's heart raced in fear spurred on by the waves of red-hot rage that radiated from the soldier.

Just a few feet away from her, the shadow stopped and carefully sheathed the sword. The voice that addressed her was deep but polite. "There may be more. We'd better get out of here."

Kalia could only nod. The shadow, to her it looked like a short man or a muscular woman of average height, turned abruptly and started walking back to the mouth of the alley. Kalia followed, carefully cradling her arm against her body, every step an agony. "What about the bodies?," she asked breathlessly.

The soldier neither answered nor stopped and Kalia shrugged bringing a sting of pain from her shoulder. Outside the mouth of the alley, she looked dazed at the huge sleek motorcycle. The shadowy soldier turned to her. "There is a safe house nearby. Hold tight and don't bite."

Before Kalia could respond, the shadow climbed on the motorcycle and started the engine. Kalia slowly climbed behind her saviour and put her good arm around the stranger's waist. Her body screamed at the abuse it had suffered even as she swallowed the vomit that tickled at the back of her throat. Kalia bit the inside of her lips tasting blood. I won't faint. Not now, she vowed silently. The engine revved and they were off. As they sped from one alley to the other, her heart thudded as the walls flew past. With every bump on the uneven concrete of the alleys, jolts of pain assaulted her brain. In the back of Kalia's mind a small voice, the one that always stayed detached, gathered facts for analysis. One was that her saviour was certainly a woman. The smooth curve of breasts swelled under Kalia's hand as she held on for dear life. The other was what Kalia's nose had been trying to tell her for the last few minutes. The woman was human, not one of the tribe. The spicy smell of vampire imbued her but without the sharper tinge of the bloodied. The small voice was a beacon of calmness in the churning waters of her mind. The dizziness that assaulted her told her that she was losing the battle with unconsciousness. The steady flow of blood from her shoulder and the insanely fast ride in the narrow alleys were not helping. With determination born of desperation and pride instilled in her from birth, Kalia tightened her arm around the human's waist even as she kept her eyes stubbornly open. Time swirled without meaning or measurement as barely lit roads were traversed and sharp turns into more dark alleys were taken. A garage door opened silently as the motorcycle slowed abruptly throwing her into the woman in front of her. The garage was dark as they entered and Kalia barely managed to stop the gasp at the loss of support as the woman killed the engine and dismounted in one smooth motion. The blinding pain from her shoulder brought a small cry to Kalia's lips as she tried to stay upright on the saddle. Without a word of warning, Kalia felt hands grip her. Something inside her, one of the old voices, protested at the touch. Kalia had no time or breath to complain as she was lifted from the motorcycle and carried through a wide door at the end of the garage. The couple of small lights that had turned on just as the motorcycle parked made her eyes water. Kalia did not have the strength to resist and wondered with some alarm how much blood she had lost to feel so detached. The room she was being carried into was large but almost bare. A table and a narrow bed were small islands of steel in the sea of bare concrete. The small cataloguing voice in her mind set out the facts but Kalia could only sigh as she was gently placed on the bed. Mutely, unthinkingly, Kalia watched as the woman took off her cape, no longer blending with the shadows. The human was average in height but Kalia still could not see her face. Broad shoulders and well-muscled arms were clear under her black shirt and black leather vest. Kalia's eyes unthinkingly observed the twin scabbards on the human's back and the twin heavy LAC-shooters on her hips. The woman did not speak as she went to a small cabinet over the sink and opened it. Kalia watched, her head swimming from pain and loss of blood, as the woman washed her hands quickly but thoroughly. The smell of antiseptic turned Kalia's stomach. She blinked and suddenly blackness washed over her dragging her into oblivion.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/rhuarc_b ... liar1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 15 lis 2012 23:27

vatrogasci i žrtve požara

Flames of a Soul
By Larisa

Jake had just finished with her late night work out when the alarms went off, the clanging drove her nuts and she often wondered if the damn things weren't designed to drive the firefighters out of the building instead of letting them know there was an emergency. Running for the stairs to the upper level where her clothes were sprawled out on her rack, she passed all the other firefighters on their way down.

"We'll wait for ya Jake, so hurry up!" John yelled over his shoulder on his way down.

"Yeah, yeah I know." She grabbed her clothes and started pulling them on as she went back down the stairs; still carrying her coat, shirt and boots, she ran out and jumped on the back of the ladder truck. "Why didn't ya make me run a little faster?" She mumbled as she hung on and tried to get dressed at the same time. "I know ya just wanted ta see my tits bouncing around ya perverts!" She said loud enough for the guys to hear.

"Got that right, you may on the same side of the fence as us, but we ain't dead!"

"Where we going anyway?" She asked as she pulled her hood over her long dark hair and helmet on.

"Bad crash on Rt. 70E, numerous cars and a fuel tanker right smack dab in the middle. We've got other units there now and more on the way."

"Ohh great, rubber Neckers and the works, any fires yet?"

John gave her an exasperated look. "What is it with you and fire?"

"Pyromania?" She grinned, pulled a rubber hot dog from her pocket, and waved it in front of him. "Did ya bring the buns?"

"You're a sick bitch Jake, put that thing away! Looks like a damn strap-on."

"Jealous Johnnie boy, bigger than yours?" She wiggled her dark brows at him and laughed when he turned bright red. "I know it is, remember I saw ya in the shower!" The whole truck went into an uproar with laughter.

The sirens wailing, lights flashing they raced down the wrong side of the highway towards the accident. Hundreds of cars were lined up on the other side; people were outside of their vehicles watching from a distance the flames shooting up from the wrecked cars and the fuel truck. Vehicles were being turned down at an emergency turn around and sent back the other way. Jake hoped that they got them all out the area before the flames spread and sent off a chain reaction. She was off the back of the truck before it had stopped, grabbing a hose she started to back up, pulling it from the storage area. John came up, got in front of her and helped her drag it to the nearest vehicle. Turning the spray on, she started washing the leaking fuel away and spraying down the car to cool it. As soon as it was cool to the touch, she checked inside for passengers and then they moved onto the next. She kept her eyes on the other cars and watched as EMT's and Paramedics carried and led injured passengers from the area. Before she could turn the spray on another vehicle, a man came running towards her screaming for help. She looked at John who shrugged his shoulders at her.

"Go on Jake, see what he needs. I'll get one of the others to help me." Before she sprinted away, he yelled to her. "Turn your radio on!"

The man grabbed her by her arm and dragged her over to his car; his wife was in the back seat and was just about to give birth on the spot.

"Please help her!" He begged and grabbed her arm. "It's our first baby."

"Just hold on here a minute, don't move I'll get a paramedic over here."

"Can't you help her?"

"Sir, I'm a fireman. I'll get someone who knows what to do."

"What good are you people?" He ranted. "My wife needs help now!"

She ignored his outburst and headed to one of the many ambulances that were parked in the grassy median strip. She sent an EMT over to the car and was headed back to find John when a large explosion rocked the ground, she was knocked to the ground and stay there until flying debris stopped falling. Screams penetrated the all ready noisy area, getting to her feet she ran towards the tanker and started helping the other firefighters spray foam on it to try and put out the flames. With all the yelling from the firefighter's her sensitive ears still picked up a cry for help. Raising her shield, she looked around but couldn't figure out where the cry had come from. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she turned around to see nothing but smoke and small fires sprouting up from some of the cars. Deciding to do her normal thing, she left the scene and walked around to the other side of the flaming truck. Another explosion rocked the ground and a blast of hot air hit her in the back and threw her over the top of a turned over vehicle. Landing on her shoulder, she felt a searing pain shoot down her arm and make her fingers tingle.

"Fuck me!" She cried out and rolled over onto her back, trying to lift her right arm caused so much pain that stars floated in front of her eyes. "This is not good!"

"Please help me!" A low voice yelled close to where she was. Looking around, she noticed movement in the car she was lying next to. Rolling onto her side, she wiped the dirty window and saw that someone was trapped inside the car. Taking in the way the car was smashed she knew that she wouldn't be able to get the door open. The roof was caved in on one side making the person lean to the side. Reaching for her radio all she found was a melted clump of plastic.

"Cheap ass shit!" She threw it on the ground and reached for the small axe she carried on her belt. Once it was free, she tapped on the window and told the person to cover their head if possible. Aiming for the center of the window, she hit it with the pointed end of her axe and watched as the glass crumbled and fell to the ground. Poking her head into the car, she wiggled in as far as she could to where the person was trapped.

"Hi ya, I'm Jake. I'm going to try and get you out of here."

Looking to where the person was leaning over at an odd angle, she could see that the steering wheel was pressed tightly up against their ribcage and holding them sideways in the seat.

"Can you breathe OK?"

A strangled voice came out saying a shaky no. It was a rich voice even in pain and very much a woman's voice.

"OK, I'm going to try and make you a little more comfortable, this may hurt a little bit but when I'm done you should be able to breathe easier."

Crawling as far as she could, she was able to get her good arm under the steering wheel and press upward. All it did was groan a little bit.

"Do you have your seatbelt on?"

"Yes, it's digging into my side and my legs are going numb."

"OK, I'm going to cut the belt and see if I can move you a little bit." She pulled a knife from her coat pocket and opened the blade. "Before I do this, can you feel your arms and legs and is there any pain in your back or neck?"

"Just my legs hurt, the dashboard is on them. Please get me out."

"I will, just hold on."

As she cut the belt another explosion went off from the fuel truck, the car rocked and flames bounced around the outside. Jake could feel the heat burning into the bottoms of her feet and legs. She knew she had to hurry before the car either caught fire or exploded with both of them inside. It was so dark in the car that she couldn't see anything, pulling her helmet off she let it fall from her numb fingers. Feeling with her left hand and fumbling, she found the seat belt and cut it as fast as she could. The woman's body moved a little but not enough to get her out.

"What's your name there little one."

"Artemis Shields."

"OK Arty, I'm going to try and move the steering wheel again and see what happens. Using all the strength she had, she pulled the steering wheel towards her and felt it give. Taking a deep breath and bracing her back against the seat, she pulled again and felt it give and break free in her hand. The woman and she fell over on the seat and another explosion rocked the car, this time the flames landed on Jakes legs.

"Uuhhmm?I'm on fire so after I put the flames out I'll be right back with you." Crawling backwards from the window she sat down and beat the flames from her legs. "Damn things ain't supposed to do this!" She cursed as the last of it was put out and just smoked. Crawling back in with her small flashlight on, she came to the small woman, brushed the hair back from her sweaty face, and froze. The most beautiful sea green eyes she had ever seen were looking up at her.

"Mercy!"

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/larisa_fots.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 17 lis 2012 00:10

školska ljubav ...samopovređivanje...

~ Chopin at 3:00 in the Morning ~
by Rae D. Magdon

Little shocks touched each fingertip as they pressed down on the piano keys, feeling the cold. The thermostat was low in the middle of the night, leaving the naked skin of my arms and legs tight against the open air. When I played in the dark I didn't use music. I kept all the lights off, shelled in by the blackness where no one else could get in while I sent the music out. A little like an exorcism. Chopin was easy enough to start with. I had memorized countless Mazurkas and Preludes, even if I didn't always remember their names. Sometimes, I would start playing and recognize one I hadn't thought of in months. Chopin is always best for the middle of the night. Rachmaninoff was too high-energy.

I kept playing when I heard the footsteps, faint at first, then a little louder. She didn't bother softening them, not wanting to startle me. She placed a kiss on my bare shoulder, then just under my ear, neither of us breathing. I held the dominant, forgetting what I was playing. I took my hands from the piano as she whispered to me. "Chopin at three in the morning?"

I turned my head, trying to find her lips, but she caught my forehead with her mouth and cupped the back of my neck, her fingers playing with strands of hair. Her hand rested against my throat. "I can feel your heartbeat. Fast, like a small bird's." She held her arms open, and I stood. "Come here, princess. Let me..."

Our bodies spoke without words as we came together. Nothing else mattered but Mandy. Not my parents, who had been staring at me curiously for days. Not Cadee, who had left dozens of messages on my cell phone that I refused to answer. Not Sara, who hadn't called me once since the last day of school and was probably planning some form of humiliation for me. I swung my legs over the side of the piano bench, letting Mandy's soft palm curve around my left thigh. She pressed her face into my hair and breathed deeply, wrapping one arm under my knees and looping the other around my shoulders. I was lifted from the piano bench, and my cheek rested against her chest. Mandy was a lot stronger than she looked, but the weight I had lost before Christmas (which hadn't needed to come off in the first place) probably helped. Her breathing stayed steady as she carried me out of the music room and up the stairs, but mine quickened, because I knew where she was taking me. I took advantage of my position, sucking Mandy's shoulder until I left a proud purple mark where my mouth had been. Mandy kept her face buried in my hair, her heartbeat faster than her slow, patient steps. She brimmed with quiet confidence.

Mandy stopped at the door to my bedroom. "Someday," she said, almost shyly, "I want to do this for real," and she carried me inside. I didn't realize what she meant at first. When it finally clicked, I was higher than the moon.

"Did you just ask me to marry you?"

"Maybe," she said, blushing. Her eyes were smiling as she lowered me onto the mattress. "What do you think, Lady Guinevere?"

"I think that you're more charming than any Sir Lancelot. And you're prettier, too."

Mandy laughed. "A saucy wench! I think I like that." With Mandy's body stretched over mine, it felt like I was wrapped up in a very warm, moving blanket. I kissed her nose, and moved to kiss her lips, but she pressed a thigh between my legs, making me cry out instead. "Mmm... I like it when you forget your underwear, too." The confident exploration of her hand prevented me from answering. She smiled as she felt the proof of my desire for her. "Is this all for me?" I could barely nod as her words and fingers coaxed another flood of wetness from deep inside of me.

Somehow, she got my shirt pulled up around my wrists and caught one of my nipples in between her teeth, flicking the tip with her tongue. I tugged my arms, but my hands were caught in the shirt with Mandy's free hand holding them there. One finger of her other hand was drawing tight circles over the hard bundle that made tears squeeze from my eyes. Mandy's mouth released me with a soft pop, leaving the red tip of my breast exposed to the cold, stinging air. I whimpered and arched my upper back, seeking her mouth again, as she kissed her way to the other side of my chest. Too many sensations - the warmth of Mandy's breath and lips against my skin, the burning place where our naked bellies touched, the circling and flicking of Mandy's thumb. I wanted to feel Mandy's skin under my hands. My need to touch her gave me the strength to pull one hand from my tangled shirt and slide it between our bodies. Yes, that's what I want, I thought, smiling. The wonderful feeling I got when I pressed inside of Mandy always took me by surprise. I would never get used to it and I never wanted to... the tight pulling around my fingers, the warmth, the smooth velvet muscles. I loved all of it. I loved it twice as much when Mandy was inside of me at the same time. As if she could read my mind - half of me wondered if she could - she gave me what I wanted and filled me with a possessive roll of her hand. It almost hurt... almost. Stabs of pleasure radiated out from my abdomen; every inch of me trembled. I must have screamed I love you, because I heard Mandy telling me that she loved me too as we moved together.

And then she was moving away, pulling out of me, the warmth of her body drawing mine with it. I wanted to be back inside of her, with her inside of me. I sobbed, freeing my other hand and tossing the shirt away, reaching for her. "Shh, angel, no," she soothed, taking my hands and kissing them. "I want to taste you."

Mandy was gentle, patient with me. She had done this before, but only when I was so close that a few soft kisses sent me crashing over the edge. This would be different - she wanted to take her time. Her mouth explored the soft line that would blossom open and reveal all of me. "Please," I begged, my voice breaking. The sight of her head between my legs, golden curls brushing my thighs and hips, made me squeeze my eyes shut.

Mandy's fingers probed forward carefully and I felt her warm breath as she whispered intimately against me, just loud enough for me to hear. "Aah, Gwen... so soft. So tight. I fill you up with just two fingers. You drive me crazy... Am I hurting you? Tell me if I hurt you, little girl."

I couldn't speak to tell her no as she suckled me with round lips, but her knowing touch drew little mewling cries from somewhere deep in my throat. My head tossed over the loose covers. I saw her hollowed cheeks, her beautiful shining hair, her wide green eyes. I felt the burning stroke of her mouth. I was swollen open against her tongue, clutching tightly at the fingers moving inside of me. Wonderful.

"Come for me, princess." I didn't want to. Didn't want her to stop. I would die if she stopped. But I was powerless, and came in a trembling burst of wetness and tears, screaming inside of my head. Later, as she held me in her arms and kissed my hair, Mandy told me that I hadn't made a sound.

She carried me down slowly, taking the time to kiss my inner thighs and run her fingers through the glistening curls above her head. I was about to reach for her, to caress her face and thank her for something so beautiful, when she took me, still swollen, back into her mouth. "Oh, no more..." I groaned, but there was no stopping her. "Amanda..." Hearing her full name, she looked up at me with cloudy eyes, blinked slowly, and then bent her head back down. I lost count of how many times I shattered with release against her mouth.

Floating. I was floating somewhere between dreams. Then I fell one last time, rubbing the skin of my shoulders raw against the covers as my hair fell over my face.

For a few moments, I felt a strange numbness. Then, a crippling spasm of pain. I cried out, clutching Mandy's hair too tightly with my thin fingers. "Please, stop... it hurts... I can't..." My lover knew my body so well. This time, she realized that I couldn't. She understood my limits better than I did. She gave me one last kiss and pulled herself up along my body, pressing her skin against mine. Yes.

"Yes," I said some time later when I found my voice.

"Yes what?" Mandy asked sleepily. She was obviously exhausted. I felt sore and tender and very well-loved myself, so I didn't blame her.

"Yes, I'll marry you."

Mandy opened her eyes. "You're serious," she said, looking directly into my face.

"As a heart attack."

I hadn't been expecting tears, so when Mandy started crying I felt a little nervous until I saw how big her smile was. I was usually the one that cried when we made love and it was refreshing to see her let go for once. "You're serious," she said again.

"You aren't very articulate, are you?" I grinned at her. "Sir Lancelot would have said, 'I wish to bind myself with thee in holy'-"

"Shut up... Jeez, you're in a mood tonight. Sir Lancelot my ass."

"I like your ass." I couldn't resist one more dig.

"I shouldn't have called you Lady Guinevere. You're definitely Morgan le Fay. Now go to sleep. Or if you won't, at least let me go to sleep. And move your feet. They're cold."

I smiled and buried my face in Mandy's neck, enjoying her smell and her warm skin. "I really will marry you, Amanda."

The last thing Mandy said before we both fell asleep was a contented, "I know."

It was naive of me to think my parents didn't know. There is only so much you can get away with until you get caught. It could have been a lot worse, I suppose. They could have walked in on us while we were making love instead of while we were sleeping. Neither of us even woke up. I didn't know anything was wrong until I went downstairs to make Mandy some toast and eggs. That's what trying to be romantic gets you. My mother and father were sitting at the kitchen table with ominously blank expressions. Usually they smiled at me and fussed when I came down to breakfast, trying to make up for the times when they weren't home to share meals. There were no 'Honeybears' or 'Gwenny darlings' this time. I could guess why. I decided that I really didn't want to play the question-answer game, so I opened the breadbox and pulled out two slices for Mandy's toast. I popped them into the toaster oven, and then I went to the fridge to get the butter and two white eggs.

"How long has this been going on?" my father asked. I almost looked over my shoulder at him, but decided that I didn't want to see either of their faces a second time.

"Long enough." The eggs felt cold and heavy in my palm. I dropped to my knees and started looking for the frying pan and a small mixing bowl. The kitchen was silent except for a sharp crack and I broke the eggs on the rim of the bowl. I sighed as I realized that I had forgotten a fork to break the yolks. With a silver butter knife in one hand and a fork in the other, I returned to the kitchen counter without another glance at my parents.

My father cleared his throat. "I heard something, but I thought it was just talk. I didn't expect..."

"Why would you notice something like this? It took you months and I wasn't even trying to keep it a secret." I stabbed at the yolks until they were a yellow, runny mess.

"Gwen," my father started, "we didn't raise you to be like this."

"No, you didn't." I lopped off a hunk of yellow butter with the butter knife and dropped it into the frying pan, turning on the burner. It hissed up at me as I went back to stirring the eggs, the prongs of the fork scraping the inside of the bowl. "What you did was hand me a box of condoms when I was sixteen and ask me if I needed birth control. I was still a virgin. Of course, if I had been like most of my friends, it already would have been too late for that talk..."

I poured the eggs into the melted butter and left them, pulling the brown toast out of the toaster oven. "And having Aunt Scary preach to me about how I'd be damned to hell if I ever enjoyed sex didn't help. You didn't bother to ask me how I felt about sex or boys or any of it! You just assumed. You don't know a thing about me."

"Obviously, we don't. And I'm sorry for that." With a piece of toast in one hand and the butter knife in the other, I did a full-body turn to face my mother. She was looking at me with defeated eyes, and she seemed more sincere, more real, in that one moment than all of the memories I had of her combined.

"Morgan..." my father was frowning. My mother lowered her eyes to the floor. I turned around, set the toast and the butter knife gently down on the counter, and took two steps towards them.

"Any time, you could have asked me. Asked me where I was going, who I was going to be with. I would have told you the truth. Did you know that Mandy is the only person I've ever made love with?" I saw my parents flinch, but I was glad. Some things just needed to be said. "Did you know that she beats me at air hockey most days after school? Did you know that I've hated Sarah Ackerman since fourth grade when she put glue in my seat and ruined my new skirt? Did you know that I have a new friend named Liz, who has bright red hair and plays the clarinet? You don't know a damn thing about my life, and it's not because I keep secrets. You just never cared enough to ask me."

The smell of the eggs brought me back to the counter. I whipped at them with the fork to scramble them, tossed them onto a plate, and reached into the spice cabinet for the cinnamon sugar and the pepper. I was so flustered that I almost dumped pepper onto the toast. I finally got the yellow eggs peppered the way Mandy liked, the toast buttered and sprinkled with cinnamon sugar, and put the knife and fork, which I had wiped with a paper towel, next to the food. "I'm going upstairs to take my lover breakfast, and if you two decide that you want to get to know your own daughter for a change, I'll be back down afterwards."

I felt a lot older than eighteen when I brought Mandy her toast. Somehow, she knew something was wrong before I said, "well, it was going to happen eventually." Mandy yawned and reached for her plate, fluffing two of my frilly pillows up to lean against.

"Thank you, angel," she said, giving me a soft kiss on the mouth as my reward. That made me feel a little better. "So, what's the damage?"

"Oh, about what I expected..." I stalled, not really wanting to talk about it. I stole Mandy's fork while she was busy with her toast and speared a bite of her eggs. Chewing bought me another few seconds to organize my thoughts. "I actually did most of the talking. Daddy did say that he didn't raise me to be 'like that,' though."

Mandy rolled her eyes as she reclaimed her fork. Since she had taken back control of the eggs, I picked up a piece of her toast. "Stop eating my breakfast!" Mandy ordered playfully. "There will be none left for me."

"But I made it," I whined, pushing my lower lip out in a puppy dog pout. Mandy wiped a bit of cinnamon sugar from my cheek with one finger.

"Oh, fine, have some," she grumbled, still chewing on a mouthful of her scrambled eggs. Somehow, she managed to keep her mouth mostly closed, so none of it showed.

"My mother just looked sad." I looked up at Mandy and realized that she was a million miles away. Sometimes, the word 'mother' did that to her. "I'm sorry," I said quietly, even though Mandy probably didn't want an apology.

"Coming from anyone else, I'd hate an 'I'm sorry'. You wouldn't believe how many times I've heard it... someone finds out my mom is dead, the first thing they say is, "oh, I'm sorry..." But I know that you actually mean it. Even though you didn't know her or anything."

I rested my head on Mandy's shoulder, wrapping an arm around her waist as she finished cleaning the plate. "I know you."

"Yeah, you do." I felt Mandy tense up against the line of my side, and I looked up at her chin without moving my head from her shoulder.

"What's up? I do know you, right?"

Mandy tried to smile. "In the biblical sense." But the joke felt cold to both of us. "Sorry. I guess... Gwen, I have something to tell you." Honestly, I thought it was going to be another 'I love you,' so I wasn't prepared when she said, "I think I'm hurting myself."

I pulled my head up, frowning. "What do you mean, hurting yourself?" Mandy lowered the sheet that was tucked under her arms, revealing her breasts. For a few moments, I was too distracted by her nipples reacting to the cold air to notice the scratches on her belly. Had those been there last night? It had been dark, and Mandy stayed below me most of the time, tasting me...

I reached out to touch them and Mandy allowed my small hands to wander over her stomach and sides. Eventually, the curious fingers found themselves covering her breasts, but I did not forget about the gouged pink lines on her belly. "Did you do that, lover?" I asked in a low whisper.

"I had a nightmare again. You weren't in bed with me and I guess I was acting it out or something." I could tell that Mandy really didn't want to talk about this and I was impressed that she had come forward with the story herself. But then I remembered that the scratches were very noticeable in the daylight and I probably would have asked. She was heading me off.

"I didn't want to dump this on you just after your parents found out about us, but I knew..."

"It's okay," I interrupted in a soft voice. "I'm glad you told me." Now, I just had to figure out how to get my lover's head in a better place. What a Christmas break. Sometimes, I just wanted to tuck my head under a pillow, close my eyes, and wish away the winter.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/rae_d_magdon_ca3itm.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 17 lis 2012 19:55

spisateljica i vozačica autoutrka.... kako pisanje autobiografije može postati vrlo uzbudljiva romantična priča

~ On The Fast Track To Love ~
by Norsebard

Kathleen O'Malley turned her red Ford Focus hatchback into the crowded parking lot in front of the publishing house. She worried about finding a parking space, but fortunately she found an empty one almost immediately. It didn't hurt that it was right next to the entrance, either. She picked up the letter and took the piece of paper out of the envelope. The words were simple enough, but she didn't quite understand why she, of all people, had been chosen.

'Dear Ms. O'Malley.
We kindly request your presence at a meeting on Wednesday, March 24th, 10:00 am in our offices on Bartholomew Road. The renowned sports personality Miss Francesca Carrara has given Carruthers Publishing, Ltd. first rights to publish her biography, and she has made it clear that she prefers a female biographer.
Yours, W.P. Carruthers,Carruthers Publishing, Ltd.'

She looked at herself in the rear view mirror. 'All right Kathleen, this is it. Do this right and you could find yourself with a contract. Lipstick or not?' she thought. She decided on 'not', quickly ran a comb through her hair, and stepped out of the car. She looked at the expensive models parked next to her, and she felt her own family car, four years old and with mismatched hubcaps, was horribly out of place among the BMWs and Audis. She opened the double glass doors and walked into the hall. It was so white it was almost sterile. Wall-to-wall white tiles on the floor, and white curtains in front of the windows. A round desk was situated in the centre of the hall, complete with a platinum blonde desk clerk, who was looking rather bored. Kathleen walked up to her and announced herself. Kathleen sighed, crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt for the umpteenth time since she had been asked to wait. The large clock on the wall was now fifteen minutes past the time where this fabled race car driver was supposed to be here. She looked around the waiting room. Everything was just too posh for her tastes, the polished chrome and the glass surfaces were too shiny, the furniture too modern and soulless, the carpet too grey. And it didn't help that the chair she was sitting on was uncomfortable, too. The secretary came over to her and offered her another cup of coffee, which Kathleen politely declined. She almost told the secretary that the first cup of the so-called 'coffee' had tasted so horribly that it had been necessary to use twice the amount of sugar she usually used, but she let it go. The door to the publisher's office was closed, as it had been for the entire time she had been waiting. She sighed again. Suddenly she could hear loud voices, followed by heavy footsteps, echoing off the white tiles in the hall. The frosted glass door to the waiting room was flung open and a dark-haired woman strode in. Kathleen recognised her instantly, it was Francesca Carrara, the woman she had been waiting for. She was wearing a black pant-suit that outlined her figure very nicely, and a matching jacket. Kathleen couldn't recognise the cut, but she was sure it was Italian, and that it had probably cost more than she herself made in a month. Usually known for her 'hipness' and her cool, stoic behaviour, Carrara's face was now flushed and she had a murderous expression in her ice blue eyes. The door to the publisher's office opened, and a well-dressed man in his early sixties came out.

"Hello, Miss Carrara, I'm W.P. Carruthers. So nice to see you, won't you come in?" he said, and motioned her inside with a big, fake smile.

The powerfully built woman walked into the office with long, aggressive strides. Kathleen grabbed her attaché-case and started to get up, but the publisher closed the door without even looking at her. She sat down with a bump and rolled her eyes. After a few seconds, Kathleen could hear Carrara throwing a tantrum inside the office, and she smirked. Oh dear, how was this ever going to work.

"The person who took the VIP parking space reserved for me had better be someone BLOODY IMPORTANT!" Carrara said loudly.

"...I had to park over on the other side of the parking lot. If my car is scratched when I get back there, I'll have my solicitor..." she continued.

Then the publisher said something, but his voice was muffled by the walls of the office. Carrara replied in a calmer tone, but Kathleen couldn't hear that either. The door opened, and the man signalled Kathleen to come inside.

'Finally,' she thought. She smoothed her skirt again and took her attaché-case.

Carrara was sitting in a leather chair, still looking upset.

"Miss Francesca Carrara, this is Miss Kathleen O'Malley," the publisher said.

"Pleased to meet you," the race car driver hissed.

"Likewise," Kathleen said, and put her hand out.

Carrara shook it with an air of absolute arrogance, and she only looked at Kathleen for a second when she did so.

'Oh, how charming...' the author thought as she sat down in a leather chair next to Carrara's, both opposite a huge desk where the publisher was sitting.

In fact, Francesca Carrara had noticed the blonde woman. She looked to be in her early thirties, with misty green eyes and shoulder-length hair in a shade somewhere between white- and strawberry-blonde. A dark green shirt and a tan skirt covering a nice rear end - definitely easy on the eyes. Francesca leaned forward and took off her jacket, revealing her muscular shoulders and arms, and a silver and black Certina wristwatch. A pleasant scent of some outrageously expensive perfume filled the office, and Kathleen couldn't help but stare at the other woman's muscular frame. She quickly looked away when the publisher cleared his throat.

"All right, now that we're all here, here are the details of the deal we're proposing. Miss Carrara has kindly agreed on having her biography published by us, if we can provide her with a female author. That's where you come in, Miss O'Malley," he said and looked expectantly at Kathleen. She looked back, and after a few seconds understood that she was supposed to speak.

"Oh, right. Well, after the successful biography I wrote the year before last for the Olympic Gold Medallist in Pentathlon, I feel I'm capable of being a part of the team. As you recall, sir, that book was published by your house, and it sold quite well."

"Indeed. That's why we wrote you the letter. Go on," the publisher said.

"I believe I can add a touch of..."

"Do you know why I want a woman to write it?" Francesca interrupted her.

"Ah... No?"

"Last month, I was offered a six-figure deal with a men's magazine, but I turned them down. Why? Because they wanted the book to be about my tits and my arse, and I want it to be about ME," Francesca said, and pointed her index finger at her chest.

Kathleen blushed over the direct language, but she nodded.

"That's what I do best, Miss Carrara. I'm not a reporter for a gossip rag. I'm not afraid of going in-depth nor of asking difficult questions," she said, and looked the dark haired woman straight in the eye.

A smile slowly spread out over Francesca's face - a very beautiful smile, Kathleen noticed, one which completely transformed her appearance.

"All right. That sounds good to me. I can accept that," Francesca said to the publisher, who put on another of his big, fake smiles.

"Sherry, anyone?" he said, and pushed a contract across the desk to each woman.

After signing, Francesca and Kathleen shook hands again, and this time, Francesca actually looked at her. When the colourful woman had left, the publisher came over to Kathleen who was busy putting the contract into her attaché-case.

"Miss O'Malley, if I may ask... where did you park?" he said.

"Right next to the entrance. That was the only one available... why?"

"Well, that's the VIP parking space," he said and winked.

"Oh," Kathleen said and blushed slightly.

"No harm, no foul. But I'd wait until Miss Carrara's left before I'd go down there, myself," he said and laughed.

"Sounds like a very good plan, Mr. Carruthers..."

Two weeks later. In the mean time, Francesca had won the opening race of the season, the Silverstone 1000 kilometres, as the first woman ever, so her picture had been on the cover of several magazines and newspapers. As Kathleen noted as she parked in the slot marked 'guest' in front of the block of four condominiums, that fact might boost the sales of the book.

There weren't any names on the electronic door bells to the four apartments, but Kathleen had been told which one was Francesca's. She pressed the small button, and the front door opened soon after with a deep, buzzing sound. She walked into a lush hall and quickly found the correct door, the first one on the right. Francesca opened the door herself, much to Kathleen's surprise. She was even more surprised when she saw that the dark haired woman was wearing faded blue jeans and a baggy sweatshirt - she had expected something by Armani at least.

"Hello, Miss O'Malley. Come in, make yourself comfortable," Francesca said, and at the same time spotted Kathleen's red Ford through the glass of the windbreak, over the author's shoulder.

Kathleen walked inside and hung her coat on a hallstand. The condominium was just like she had expected: posh, posh, posh. Everything was luxurious and expensive. On her way to the living room, she glanced into the kitchen which, sure enough, looked like it had come straight out of a glossy magazine. The living room was a half-step down from the hall. Colourful, abstract paintings were prominently displayed on the white walls, most of them looking so expensive Kathleen didn't even dare contemplate the fire insurance.

"Please have a seat, Miss O'Malley," Francesca said, and pointed at a selection of exquisite leather furniture.

Kathleen sat down on a leather sofa and felt horribly lost in all this grandeur. Francesca sat down in her favourite chair, and looked at the other woman sitting opposite her. She seemed nervous, Francesca thought. My reputation has preceded me.

"I guess we should start at the beginning, Miss Carrara."

"Let's. That red Ford out there, isn't that the same one that occupied the VIP parking space at the publisher's the other week?" Francesca said, and raised an eyebrow.

Kathleen blushed.

"Oh... well... yes. Yes it is. I'm terribly sorry, I didn't notice the sign until I left."

"May I call you Kathleen?"

"... Of course."

"Kathleen, it's all right. I won't hold it against you. That day, I was already upset when I arrived, and when that happened... well, you know the result," the dark haired woman said.

Kathleen smiled and nodded nervously.

"Now, with that out of the way, let's get down to business. And please, call me Francesca."

"All right. Francesca. Well, I must say I'm not too well-versed in the world of motorsports. Congratulations on the victory last weekend... but unfortunately, I don't know exactly what it is you won...?" Kathleen said as she put a notebook, a pencil and a small tape recorder on the glass table.

"You're not using a laptop?"

"I don't have one," Kathleen said.

"You can have one of mine. I have four," Francesca said, and leaned forward in her chair, grinning.

"Four?"

"Don't forget, Hewlett-Packard is a technical partner of the team. They hand out laptops like cheese crackers."

"They do?"

"Sure. But anyway, I won the first race of the World Sportscar Championship."

"Oh..." Kathleen said, not quite sure what that actually meant.

"So now I'm leading the championship."

"Congratulations."

"Well, thank you, but I'd rather lead it after the last race."

A small pause.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what the World Sportscar Championship is, actually..." Kathleen said.

An expression of annoyance flashed across Francesca's face, but it soon passed.

"Well... It's a championship of nine long distance races, fought on three continents by some of the biggest car makers in the world. Currently, there are four factory teams, Mercedes-Benz, Maserati, Nissan and Toyota. I drive for Mercedes."

"Oh, I see. Thank you."

"Anything else you'd like to know while we're at it?" Francesca said in a slightly sharp tone.

"Well, why don't we start at the beginning like we said we would. Tell me a bit about yourself," Kathleen said, choosing to ignore the jab. She turned on her recorder, and picked up her notebook and her pencil.

Francesca again raised an eyebrow, but relaxed and leaned back in her chair.

"All right. My name is Francesca Carrara. I'm 32 years old, and my zodiac sign is the Scorpio, if you're interested in that nonsense. My father is English, and my mother is Italian. I was born in Rome, that's why I have an Italian name. For the first several years of my life, my family lived there, until my father was promoted and we moved to London. I've been here ever since."

"Are your parents still alive?"

"Oh yes. They're divorced now, though. Mother's gone back to Italy," Francesca said and shrugged.

"When did you realise you had a knack for motor racing?"

"In the last year of school. At that point, we lived not far from a kart track, and I went there every day. Just to watch the others to begin with, but one day I was allowed to try a few laps... and I blew everyone else away."

Kathleen nodded, and write some words down in her notebook.

"But that's actually a little late, isn't it?"

"Hey, I thought you said you didn't know anything about motor racing?", Francesca joked.

"... but yes, it was a bit late. I was fifteen when I first sat in a kart. I guess the best age is about nine or ten. I was halfway through puberty and all that. Not that it hindered me. I knew from my height that I'd never get a fair shot at the single seaters, so I aimed for the sportscars from the outset. They're bigger, so larger drivers can fit in much more easily."

"Single seaters?"

"Like Formula 1."

"Oh, all right. Does that bother you?"

"Not really, no. And you can print that quote directly, if you want."

"How did you get from karting to where you are today?"

"Well, after two years in pro-karting, I went up the ladder to the junior formulae to get the feel for driving on the edge in heavier cars. When I got my driver's license when I turned eighteen, I switched to the tintops..."

"Tintops?"

"Cars with roofs, saloon cars, you know," Francesca said.

"All right."

"Le Mans was always my main aim, so after acquiring experience for three years in various national series, I started driving in the World Sportscar Championship for a privateer team. In my third year, I had become good enough to get noticed by the right people, and I was selected to be a junior driver for Aston Martin. Unfortunately, they left the series two years later, but I was picked up by Mercedes, and... well, that's it, basically," she said.

Kathleen hurriedly jotted down a few cues on her notebook, nodding as she went along.

"Great!" she said, and smiled.

Over the next several hours the conversation flowed freely, and Kathleen picked up many interesting pieces of information about the race car driver. She began to understand why Francesca was able to turn heads everywhere she went. She was beautiful, no doubt about that, but more importantly she had presence and charisma, and those characteristics have always been vital to success.

"Do you need a refreshment? I don't have any alcohol, but I do have a large selection of juices and exotic teas."

"How exotic?"

"Mango-strawberry, passion fruit-chilli, thistle-blackberry..."

"Thistle...?!" Kathleen said shocked.

"It's very popular, I can assure you," Francesca said.

"I see. I'd like an orange juice, please."

A few minutes later, Francesca put down a coaster and a glass of freshly pressed orange juice on the glass table.

"Here you go."

"Thank you."

"You know, there's one thing we haven't talked about yet," Kathleen said over the rim of her glass.

"And that is?"

"Money. The thing I hear the most from people outside the sport is 'why the hell do race car drivers always make so much money. All they do is sit down and drive'".

"True. I've heard that more than once, too," Francesca said, nodding.

"How much money did you make last year, then?"

Francesca looked up, slightly startled. Well, Kathleen had told her that she didn't shy away from asking pointed questions.

"A lot. I finished in third place in the world championship after winning three races, and another two in the US series... and I get a bonus for winning races, it's in my contract. Add to that a very nice wager from my employer, and I am all set," Francesca said while sipping some mango-strawberry flavoured tea.

"Well, how much is 'a lot', exactly?" Kathleen said, and chewed on the end of her pencil.

"Between two and a half and three million Euros. Closer to three."

Kathleen quickly calculated that into Pounds, and her eyebrows crept up her forehead.

"... OK, that's 'a lot', I agree with you there."

"Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"Well... somewhat, yes," Kathleen admitted.

"There's a catch, though. You have to remember one thing - every single time I get strapped into the car, every single lap I start may be my last. The cars are much safer now, sure, but anything can happen at all times. We are doing in excess of 200 mph on most racetracks, you know. At that speed, if it goes wrong, you're..." Francesca snapped her fingers to underscore the words.

"... gone," she said.

"Honestly, Francesca, if it's that dangerous, I don't understand why you and your colleagues keep doing it," Kathleen said.

"Why do footballers play football? It's what I do, I love to do it, and I'm damned good at it, too," Francesca said, and shrugged.

Francesca could see that Kathleen wasn't entirely convinced, so she got up and pulled out a drawer.

"Tell you what, Kathleen, I have some DVD's the team made for me from the television broadcasts. It's from the races I won last year, and Le Mans. If you watch them, perhaps you'll get a better understanding of what it is we're doing out there," she said, and held up several DVD's.

"Oh, DVD, I don't... my player is broken," Kathleen said.

"Why don't you buy a new one?"

"I don't really have a need for it, to be honest. I don't watch many movies."

"Well... all right," Francesca said and put the discs back down into the drawer.

"You wouldn't happen to have a few spare DVD players as well, would you?" Kathleen said and chuckled nervously.

"Unfortunately, no. And I'm quite fond of my home cinema, so you can't borrow that," the driver said.

"Oh, no, I wasn't asking for..."

"I know, I'm pulling your leg," Francesca said and sat down again.

"Oh."

A little pause.

"I do have a video, actually..." Kathleen said.

"But I don't, so I can't transfer them for you."

"Oh..."

"Hey! I got it, one of the HP laptops has a DVD-drive. Problem solved," Francesca said and smiled.

"... right," Kathleen said, dreading the prospect of having to install and get the computer running.

After she returned home, Kathleen started transcribing the tape. She still used an old typewriter, and the sound of the arms hitting the paper made her relax. Francesca Carrara could be infuriating at times, but she could also be charming when she wanted to... unfortunately, that wasn't often, Kathleen thought, and chuckled. But she definitely was an intriguing woman. Stopping to flip the tape, she reflected on how exciting the first day had been compared to when she was working on the other biography - Kaye Jason had nearly made her fall asleep. That woman may have been the consummate professional when she was in a pentathlon event, but Kathleen had found her to be insufferably dull in real life, and in the end, she had had to spice up the biography with all kinds of humorous bits and bobs to keep it afloat. The tape came to Francesca telling a particularly saucy anecdote, and Kathleen paused for a minute to consider if she should omit that one. She went ahead and typed it, but in reality she knew that it would never get past the legal department of the publishing house. When Kathleen was done with the first of the two tapes she had recorded that day, she turned around in her swivel-chair and looked at the brand new HP laptop that was placed on a table. Complete with all the optional extras, it was very impressive to look at... and very intimidating to her. Kathleen didn't even have a microwave oven, so how on Earth would she ever be able to get *that* thing up and running...? She made a little note on her to-do-list to call her nephew. He'd know how to get it to work. She changed tapes in the small recorder, and went back to work. It didn't take long for her to reach a part that had caught her by surprise.

'Why have you never been married, Francesca?', she heard herself say on the tape.

A pause.

'When you said you weren't a gossip rag reporter, you weren't kidding, were you?'

'I... don't know exactly what you...'

'I'm a lesbian.'

'Oh.'

Another pause.

'I've been out since my late teens.'

'And that hasn't hindered your career?'

'Not in the slightest, no. In motor racing, that's not as important as it is in real life. It's more important to have a good head on your shoulders for the strategy game... and a lead foot for the racing game.'

'Does that apply equally for gay men and women?'

'No. Unfortunately, it doesn't. There are some gay men driving today, but they're all closeted. If they're outed, they're gone.'

'Why is that?'

'I honestly don't know. There is a lad-culture with your mechanics, that could a part of it. The inherent masculinity of driving fast could be another, but... honestly, Kathleen, I don't know.'

Kathleen re-read the lines she had just typed, and leaned back in her chair to ponder the unexpected development. Should she put this in the book? If the biography was a hit, the tabloids might start a witch hunt to discover the identities of the drivers Francesca talked about. She rubbed her forehead, and decided to ask Francesca some time later. She took the paper out of the typewriter and put it into a drawer. The large clock on the wall struck 11 pm, and Kathleen yawned accordingly. Reluctantly, she forced herself to finish transcribing the second tape before she would be allowed to go to bed. She stretched like a cat, and went back to work.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/norsebar ... love1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

Ooh

Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Ooh » 18 lis 2012 04:02

ne ubije se cesto sestra. desi se to jednom ukoliko imas jednu sestru koja se ubije. unatoc toliko neizvjesnoti, to je sigurno. rekli bi roditelji da je slucajno pala dok je prala prozor,ali nitko ne zna sto se desilo. mozda samo jedna osoba zna-sestra. kako zna? nekako. znanje joj ne dopusta da napusti stan. nikada poslije nije se maknula negdje van. napustila je fakultet, prestala pohadjati muzicku skolu i odbila napustati prostor stana. jos malo pa je sredila murakamijevu miu i scenu s ringispilom. to je bilo lagano za oboriti. zivot je uvijek malo kompkleksniji i nedokuciviji. psihijatri, sveci, poznanici, rodjaci, njih nije niti morala nadici. nisu mogli nista. njen zivot je bio njen stan. svaki dan ga je sredjivala, redovito je brisala prasinu s police, pripremala rucak za roditelje. promatrala majku kako sije kostime za predstave i musterije. nije bila luda, naprotiv. prije nego se to desilo bila je medju uzornim. nepokolobljivost kojojom je studirala i svladavala novu materiju je ista kojom je ostala netaknuta unatoc svim naporima drugih da joj podvale izlazak iz stana. za njeno dobro, mislili su da je to za njeno dobro. nemoguce je da postoji netko tko od sredine 20ih nije napustio stan. nemoguce je da postoje podrumi u kojima ljudi odrastaju. da, sve je to nemoguce, ali se desava. zivot je rutina. u toj rutini se ljudi ubijaju ili ne napustaju stan. sto covjek moze raditi u stanu cijeli svoj zivot? sto covjek moze raditi u samostanskoj celiji cijeli svj zivot? na kraju ispadne da samo glupani ne razumiju kako to da se moze cijeli zivot provesti u izolaciji i kako to da nekoga mozes voljeti toliko, da nikada ne pozelis napustiti mjesto s kojeg je otisla? tako je jednostavno u stvari. tako sokantno.

kada se njegova majka odlucila objesiti prije par godina, nitko nije mogao slutiti da ce on uciniti isto unazad 15 dana. razlika je bila samo u katu.

postoji nesto sto ubija iz unutra. cak i kada se ubiju, ostaje jeza koja ubija. ipak se zna zasto. na osnovu necega ipak se zna. tisina na sprovodu je drugacija, tisina u sjecanju je drugacija. nikada nisu dorekli svoje zivote i otisli u miru, zato ga i nisu ostavili onima koji zive. zato ne izlazi iz stana i zato ce potkrovlje izazivati neugodan osjecaj svakom tko se u njemu nadje.
pravo kroz mrak, kada se ubiju tjeraju nas pravo kroz mrak da mozemo zivjeti. ostala je ustanu, jer nije pobijedila mrak sestre i dok ne dodje netko tko ce jasno znati zasto, mrak je tu.

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Afrodita
Postovi: 4523
Pridružen/a: 23 srp 2011 11:44
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 18 lis 2012 20:53

susret sa starim prijateljima...nesigurnost i traženje sebe ...

~ An Innocent Heart ~
by Heike Freudenmann and G. S. Binkley

Robin handed Kim a bottle of water and two aspirin. "Here you go."

Mrs. Franz watched the young girl dutifully swallow the pills before turning back around to help a customer at the window who was requesting a couple of tickets for the late show.

"Danke." Placing the water bottle on the counter, Kim rolled her head around, trying to loosen the taut muscles in her neck.

"Here let me." Robin swirled Kim around on the stool, taking up a position directly behind her friend. Soothing hands began a slow relaxing massage at the base of Kim's neck. As Robin continued the massage, she increasingly pressed harder to loosen the tight muscles, expanding her reach to include the younger woman's affected shoulders.

"God?.. that feels good." Kim's eyelids dropped in relief as her muscles were liberated from the stronghold of knots under the ministration of Robin's tender touch.

"That better?" A concerned Robin asked.

Not wanting the massage to draw to a conclusion, Kim at first started to ask Robin to continue until she saw Mrs. Franz checking her watch. "Yes, that's great. Danke."

Reluctantly, Robin withdrew her hands, sensing an immediate loss. She, too, saw the cashier check her watch. "Kim? I need to start my last movie for tonight. Would you mind staying here? I'll be right back."

"You go on." Mrs. Franz directed the projectionist. "She's perfectly fine here with me." After catching some of the verbal altercation between the pretty young girl and her boyfriend, the cashier wanted to hear the inside scoop. She loved working at the movie theater and being around all the young people there kept her feeling young.

Robin checked with Kim to see if that was okay before she headed out the door. A smile and a nod assured the taller woman that Kim would be fine. "Be back in a bit." When Robin walked into the lobby, she saw Sascha cleaning the popcorn machine. "Sascha? I know Nicole was supposed to stay late but?"

"Sure? I'll stay." Sascha readily agreed. "I could use the money."

Determined, Robin approached the longhaired Nicole. "Nicole. After you finish wiping down the counter, you can cut out early. Sascha's staying."

Happy to hear Robin's offer, Nicole nodded when she briefly met Robin's eyes. She furiously spun the cloth over the counter. She held in an inner smile because she had a fair idea where Sandro and his friends would end up that night. Nicole was not one to miss an opportunity. And this one was golden.

In short order, Robin readied her last movie for the night before returning to the cashier's office. On the way, she advised Sascha that she was going to run Mrs. Franz home and if there would be a need to call her on her cell phone. "Kim. I have to take Mrs. Franz home. Would you mind waiting here? I'll only be a minute."

Mrs. Franz grabbed her light coat and purse then insisted. "I can walk home."

Looping her hand inside the older lady's arm, Kim said. "I'll go with you." Kim and Mrs. Franz shared a knowing smile caused by a shared secret.

Robin sighed heavily as she watched the two conspirators walk off. She knew something was up and figured that her name played a central role in the discussion that evidently took place while she was gone. Robin temporarily forgot that Mrs. Franz was easily able to squeeze even the smallest bit of information from others. Except me. Robin guarded her thoughts and feelings with an ironclad fist from others.

Mrs. Franz called over her shoulder. "Are you coming or not?"

Both women shared a stifled giggle to Robin's dismay.

After the short trip to Mrs. Franz apartment, Robin helped Kim out of her car when they got back to the movie theater. "I could have taken you home, too."

"Not on your life. It's too early to go home and besides we have a lot to catch up on." Kim heard Robin's stomach growl. "And you need something to eat? now."

"I can't. I need to get back inside." All evening Robin had resisted the increasing hunger pains since she missed supper. "Sascha's?"

"Robin." Kim placed a soft gentle touch on the older woman's arm. "We can get something right next door at that Italian restaurant. Tell Sascha we'll be there if she needs you?and we'll bring her back a piece of pizza or something."

The pleading green eyes were Robin's undoing. "You go get us a place and I'll be there in a minute."

In less than five minutes, Robin slid into the booth across from Kim. The younger woman selected this particular location so her friend could have a strategic view of the front of the movie theater.

"I hope you don't mind but I already ordered your favorite pizza." Kim smiled.

"Danke." Robin sipped her Spezi before settling back in the booth. "You'll share, right?"

"Sandro and?." Kim hesitated. "? we had dinner earlier but I really didn't eat much. So, yes. I'm starved actually."

A few moments of silence passed but neither felt uncomfortable. When they both started to talk, Kim said. "You first."

Not wanting to delve into a serious discussion right off, Robin said. "I saw your dad today."

"He didn't say anything to me when I saw him earlier."

"I'm sure it wasn't worth mentioning." Robin suddenly shifted, sparing a quick look outside the restaurant's huge front window. "They needed a tool and I dropped it off."

"Where are you working? I heard you moved back here but?" Kim resisted seeking out her old friend upon learning that Robin had returned to Germany. Too many unresolved feelings still lingered.

"I know." Robin offered an apology. "I should have looked you up. After my parents?"

Reaching across the table, Kim cupped Robin's hand. "I'm sorry. I know how close all of you were." Wanting to spring alive a lighter subject, Kim asked. "How's Ross? Last I heard he was married with several children."

This brought a smile to Robin's face. "Four. He stayed in Dallas after?" Again, Robin refused to say the word. "He has his own business and keeps trying to convince me to move back there."

A concerned frown crossed the younger woman's face upon hearing that statement. "Are you?"

"No." Robin said all too quickly then diverted the subject from herself. "Enough about me. How are you?"

The pensive look on Kim's face told only part of the story. As always it didn't take much prompting for the younger woman to open her emotional floodgates to Robin. "I suppose you want to know about Sandro?"

"Only if you want to tell me. I would never?" Robin unconsciously leaned back in her seat.

This brought a smile to Kim's face because Robin was never one to pressure or make her feel uncomfortable, quite the contrary. Fond memories of her cousin, Yasmin, and her school friends flooded Kim's mind.

"What are you smiling about?" Robin reached across the table, nudging Kim's hand. "Tell me."

Kim let out a short laugh. "I was just remembering the time when my cousin, you and the rest of the gang snuck out of the dorm."

"At the foreign language school? I remember." She waited a moment while the waitress served their pizza. "Danke." Robin ensured Kim got the first pizza before grabbing a slice. "Which time are you talking about? There were so many."

"The time we all got drunk." Kim took a big bite from her slice of pizza. "This is good."

Robin grinned at the younger woman's enthusiasm as she watched Kim devour the whole piece. Shoving the pan across the table, she said. "Take another one." Pausing only briefly before she said. "Try to save Sascha a piece though."

With her mouth full, Kim looked up. "Oh?you!" The auburn haired woman playfully threw a napkin at Robin. "You know I like to eat."

"For be it for me to try and stop you." Robin teased. "You always could hold your food?but not your liquor. And just for the record, I never got drunk."

Kim sprouted a suspicious green eye at Robin.

"Okay, okay? there was a time or two that I ended up praying to the porcelain goddess but never did I drink too much when you were with us." Robin insisted.

Kim turned thoughtful after that statement. "No. You were always the one watching out for us."

The dark haired woman shook off the compliment as if it was a foreign invader. She was not used to such kind words spun her way. "That's not true."

Sensing that her friend was embarrassed, Kim changed the subject but not before declaring one final thought. "It is. You were our protector. And don't you dare contradict me." Robin acquiesced without a word so Kim continued. "Now you never did tell me where you're working at?"

Robin and Kim engaged in idle conversation talking about everything and nothing. They briefly touched upon where they worked and what had happened to them over the last ten years since the last time they saw each other. It wasn't until the waitress slipped the bill on the table that Robin checked her watch. "We've been here over an hour. I need to get back."

As Robin paid the bill, Kim collected the remaining pizza to take back to Sascha. The taller woman opened the door, allowing Kim to go first. As she did, she deliberately bumped her hip against Robin. "Move over. Remember I had four pieces."

The couple was still laughing when they walked back into the movie theater. "Sascha, here you go." Kim handed the cardboard box to the young girl. "It took everything I had to make sure there was some left for you."

"Funny." Robin nudged Kim causing both of them to share a laugh. When Robin noticed the strange look on Sascha's face, she immediately remembered her responsibility at the movie theater. "I'm going to check the movie monitors first but I can give you a ride home now if you want."

Everyone at the movie theater liked and respected Robin. She had worked there for over five years and knew every nuance of the place. Robin was always the consummate professional. And during the last year and half that Sascha had worked there, she had come to know Robin quite well. As well as the sometimes stoic Robin would let anyone. However, seeing Robin with Kim, the young girl noticed something different about the projectionist. "No, I called my boyfriend. He should be waiting outside."

"I'm sorry. It was my fault." Kim started to explain.

Sascha waved off the apology. "Don't worry about it." She gathered her purse and the box of pizza. "Besides, my boyfriend will love you for this."

"Bye." Kim waved before she walked into the cashier's office where Robin was checking the monitors.

At first Robin didn't acknowledge Kim's presence as she stood next to her. The strange look on Sascha's face along with the realization that she had fell easily into letting her guard down around Kim somehow made her feel off balance. She needed to reclaim that steadying feeling that grounded her.

Kim watched her silent friend unconsciously play with the lone loop earring in her left lobe, as Robin intently seemed to study the monitors. It was then she noticed that Robin did not have one in the right ear. "Did you lose an earring?"

Robin didn't move.

When Kim touched Robin's arm, it startled her. "Sorry. I was just asking about your earring."

The older woman flicked the earring one last time. "Oh, yeah. I'm sorry what did you say?"

Pointing to Robin's right ear. "Did you lose it?"

"No. Actually, I didn't wear any for awhile then when I decided to start again, this one closed shut." Robin shrugged. "I only wear one now."

Kim studied her friend for a long moment before declaring. "I like it."

Shyly, Robin reluctantly accepted the compliment. When her down turned eyes raised to meet Kim, the younger woman smiled. "Danke."

Kim stared deeply into Robin's fluid brown eyes where they both shared a moment of familiarity and something else that the older woman couldn't describe and the younger woman recognized.

Out of the side of her vision, Robin noticed the movie credits on the monitor running. "Show's over." Kim's green eyes held onto her friend's eyes for a second longer than Robin could withstand. "I should go? I need to get? my movie's finished."

Over the next twenty minutes, Kim acted as a tag along as Robin closed up the movie theater. When they were ready to go, Robin opened the door for Kim. "Time to take you home."

Kim pouted. "What if I don't want to go home?"

Robin checked her watch, noting the late hour. Recalling part of their conversation about where Kim worked, Robin reminded her friend. "I thought you told me you have to be at work at ten in the morning."

"Okay. You can take me home? if you promise me, you'll stop by and see me tomorrow."

Robin looked at her watch again and seeing the midnight hour had passed, she kidded. "You mean today?"

Kim crossed her arms and offered yet another pout at being teased by her friend. "Is it a deal or not?"

Robin extended her hand. "Deal."

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/gs_binkley_aih1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 19 lis 2012 21:21

često se u raznim postovima govori o razlikama u godinama ...u ovoj priči ona uopće nije važna...dva dijela Persistence, Time: Clock of the Heart

~ Persistence ~
by Alex Tryst

Two Sundays later was Lola?s birthday. As usual Lola went riding at Drew?s. However it was Drew?s responsibility to keep her occupied until at least 6:00 that evening. Kate had dropped her off at the barn at noon pretending that her car was having trouble again, so Drew knew Lola would ride until at least 4:00. They had arranged for Drew to bring Lola home after riding, so as 4:00 approached, Drew wondered how she would stall for two hours. Sitting on the back porch, Drew spotted Lola coming up the walk toward the house. Drew couldn?t help herself from appraising Lola?s outfit, boots, jeans, and a flannel she?d stolen out of Drew?s closet years before. As she watched she noted the way Lola?s hips swayed as she walked. Drew grinned knowing Lola was performing for her. Taking another sip of her beer, Drew continued to stare slowly realizing she was enjoying the show more than she should. Drew sighed heavily. Things were definitely changing between them. Lola was steering their relationship into dangerous waters regardless of how much Drew resisted. Drew admitted to herself that Kate was the real reason she had tried to divert Lola, but it was obvious that Lola didn?t want to be dissuaded. When Lola got to the porch, she sat on Drew?s lap.

?You never give up, do you?? Drew asked referring to Lola?s boldness. Secretly Drew was beginning to delight in Lola?s attention.

Lola shook her head with a sexy smile. ?I think I?m starting to get to you. Why would I give up now?? Lola teased running a finger along Drew?s neck.

Drew didn?t even realize she?d gulped until Lola laughed softly. ?Happy birthday to me.? she breathed into Drew?s ear before biting the lobe. Drew growled jumping from the chair, effectively suspending Lola in mid air. Noting the change of position and Drew?s unstable breathing, she smiled.

?So that?s how to jump start you. Good to know.?

Drew gently set Lola down. ?You?re incorrigible. I?m going to have to be committed because of you.?

Lola laughed. Swatting Drew?s rear, she headed into the house saying, ?I have to shower before you take me home.?

?Okay. Anything you need??

Lola looked over her shoulder and raised a brow. ?Only you.? she answered continuing inside.

Drew?s legs went weak as she sank into her chair. ?Damn, that woman could drive one to drink.? Drew stated to no on in particular as she took a big swig of her beer.

Closing her eyes, Drew relived the past few minutes in her mind. Lola was desperately trying to work her into a sexual frenzy, one she had no chance to control, but Drew wondered how Lola really felt about her. If she was in love, Drew knew it would be wrong to pursue her, but there was definitely a sexual attraction. Drew then remembered the look on Lola?s face as she turned to go inside. A strong willed, sensual, wanton woman had given her those eyes, not a little girl. Drew resolved to speak to her after her shower. Finishing her beer, Drew went inside, picking up Lola?s present off the kitchen counter and proceeding upstairs. Drew found Lola fresh from the shower, dressed in only Drew?s robe, brushing her long, wet, golden tresses. Drew felt heat stirring within her as she watched Lola, who, with her closed eyes, seemed unaware of Drew?s presence or how enticing she was. Drew felt her own heart fluttering at the arousing display, and she couldn?t help but wonder if she was feeling the first stirring of love, especially when she heard her name escaped Lola?s lips. When Lola was finished, she pulled her hair over one shoulder and sighed, opening her eyes. She turned to see Drew frozen against the door frame with sexual tension etched clearly across her features.

?Lola, I want to talk to you about something serious.?

?What about?? she asked coming to Drew and wrapping her arms around Drew?s neck.

Drew pulled Lola?s hands down and held them in her own close to her chest. ?Us.? she sighed.

?I think I like the sound of that.?

?Lola, please. Stop with the games for one minute. This is serious. If you want to be with me, you?ve got to learn how to talk to me. You don?t have to give me an answer right now, but I want you to think about something. I want to know how you really feel about me. Are you in love with me? Are you just sexually attracted to me? Are you just curious and want to experience this with someone you trust? Just think it over, and when you?ve decided, come talk to me. We have to know each other?s feelings if you?re serious about us having a relationship.?

?Does this mean we can?? Lola asked hopefully.

?This means we can talk about it. That?s all. Now why don?t you get dressed? Then you can open your present.?

?No, present first. Where is it?? Drew pulled the box out of her pocket and held it out to her. Lola ripped the wrapping off before opening the tiny box. ?Oh, Drew.? she whispered pulling the necklace out to inspect. Rolling the diamond back and forth in her cupped hand so it caught the light, she stated, ?It?s beautiful! Help me put it on.?

Stepping to her Drew took the necklace from her hands. Lola leaned her head close to Drew?s chest, so Drew could clasp it around her neck. Kissing the top of Lola?s head, Drew whispered, ?Happy birthday, angel.?

Lola looked up at her as Drew straightened the chain, centering the diamond. They both felt the electricity as Drew?s fingers grazed the skin of Lola?s neck. Grabbing Drew by the wrist with both her hands so she couldn?t pull away so easily, Lola slowly guided Drew?s hand down through the top of her robe. Drew went rigid as she tried to pull away, but Lola?s grip was stronger. Lola pushed Drew?s hand over her breast and held it firmly there.

?God, Lola, please.? Drew begged but for what she wasn?t sure.

Lola held Drew?s hand firmly with one of her own as the other cupped the back of Drew?s head, bring their mouths together passionately. Drew groaned deeply, her hands taking on their own mind. Slipping both into the robe, Drew caressed Lola?s bare back with one as the other cupped the breast she?d touched, brushing her thumb across the peak causing Lola to whimper. The sound drove Drew mad with desire. Claiming Lola?s mouth harshly, Drew yanked open the robe, pushing it off Lola?s shoulders. Breaking away for a second, Drew looked over Lola?s offering and groaned in approval.

In a voice Drew didn?t even recognize as her own she growled, ?God, you?re so sexy! You really do want me to make you a woman, don?t you??

?Please.? Lola begged thrusting her chest up into Drew?s body.

Drew captured Lola?s mouth in a lustful kiss beginning to back her up towards the bed. Pushing her back onto it, Drew pinned Lola?s naked body down with her own wedging her torso between Lola?s legs. Meeting Lola?s eyes with hers, Drew instantly thought of Kate.

?Oh my God. What am I doing?? Drew growled in anguish, dropping her head onto Lola?s bare chest.

Lola stirred beneath her. ?Drew? Drew, are you all right?? she asked caressing Drew?s dark hair.

?Just hold me.? Drew whispered feeling the tears spring forth, splashing Lola?s bare skin. They laid in silence, Lola?s naked limbs enveloping Drew as she wept for almost an hour. Finally Drew rolled off of her. Not meeting Lola?s gaze, she mumbled, ?You need to get dressed. I told your mom I?d have you home by 6:30.?

?Drew, are you all right?? Lola reached for her, but Drew held her at bay.

?Just go.? Once she was alone, Drew put an ashamed hand over her face. She didn?t know what she was going to say to Kate, but her mind was quickly overpowered by the vision of Lola?s naked body. ?Dammit!? she cursed repeatedly.

Little did she realize that she dozed off until she felt movement on the bed. Opening her eyes, she jumped slightly seeing Lola straddling her hips. Lola smiled brightly, leaning down to Drew?s mouth. They kissed slowly. Drew?s hands found their way to Lola?s blue-jeaned backside. Squeezing the globes gently, Drew elicited a moan from Lola.

Lola pulled away. ?You have given me the best birthday presents I could have ever asked for, Drew, and I cherish each one.?

?The necklace looks good on you.? Drew complimented as Lola dismounted.

?I think you look good on me, Drew. You felt so good. I just hope that there?s more where that came from.?

?Come on. Let?s get you home.? Drew said ignoring the statement.

When they got to Lola?s, Drew escorted her to the door, sensing that Lola was oblivious to what was about to happen, but as soon as she opened the door and was surprised, she slapped Drew in the arm. ?You sneak!? she teased in mock anger.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/alex_tryst_p1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

str8faith
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 19 lis 2012 23:09

Ubiće me klima i vrućina
- Baba zašto mi nemamo klimu?
- Da li si ti normalna?!? Znaš li ti koliko ljudi godišnje umire od klime? Milioni ljudi. Svaki dan neko umre jer je upalio klimu.
- Znači čim upališ klimu umreš?
- Jeste, to je opasno. OPASNO. Opasno po život. Ja recimo ne idem uopšte u Maxi. A znaš zašto? Zato što tamo ima klima. Pijaca zakon. Lepo malo i pocrniš pazariš sveže i još popričaš sa ljudima. Druženje sunce voće i povrće mala. Nemaš pojma šta propuštaš. Pre neki dan sam upoznala jednu ženu, koja je uzela klimu. Kaže ni ne pali je. Ćerka joj ugradila klimu, a ona pametna nije je ni upalila. Da ne bi umrla. Vi mladi nemate pojma koliko je to štetno. Eeee bilo je i vrućina kad sam ja bila mlada, pa šta mi sad fali. Preživela sam, evo me živa zdrava prava.
- Prava? Ne bih rekla.
- Joj joj joj mala samo znaš da laješ, znaš li ti da smo mi imali ventilator jedne godine, pa evo i danas me leđa ubijaju, reumu sam dobila, u tom periodu sam bila stalno nervozna i besna.
- Ja sam mislila da si ti ZDRAVA i PRAVA.
- Pa jesam. Da nije bilo tog ventilatora živela bih 200 godina. Takođe redovna stolica jako je bitna.
- Kakve to sad ima veze?
- Sve ima veze. Sve je to život.
- I klima je život?
- Ne to je smrt! Smrt!
- Znači onda nije sve život? Sve osim klime?
- Jao šta me danas zajebavaš po ovoj toploti?
- Da imamo klimu ne bi ti bilo toplo.
- Ne bi me ni bilo.
- Tripuješ se baba ali dobro neko će da preživi leto, ili ja sa klimom ili ti bez klime.
- Kupiću ti ja kod kineza kačket sa ventilatorom pa se ti hladi, i sladoled će ti baba kupiti, nećeš da mi svisneš tu na plus 40 ne da tebe baka. Jesi gladna?
Bezi Jankec, bezi Jankec
cug ti bu pobegel

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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 21 lis 2012 22:31

urednica u izdavačkoj kući....slijepa književnica

~ At First Sight ~
by Colleen

Jamie carefully slid her six-foot frame out of the mini van and followed closely behind the hostess, over the stone walkway that led around the side of the huge, two-story house. A part of Jamie still wished she were back in her apartment with a good book and solitude. Socializing was low on her list of skills. "Bridgett, I don't want to take you away from your party, but I really can't stay long."

The hostess spun around. "Hey you just got here and you want to leave already?"

"No, I just wanted you to know, since you insisted, practically demanded I come."

"Well, if you would just allow yourself to, I know you would have a good time. But whenever your ready just say the word and I'll take you back home."

Jamie heard the unmistakable sounds of children playing, as they rounded the corner of the house and into the party area. Two long tables, covered with red checked tablecloths laden with food and two barbecue grills bordered the far side of the brick patio. Several round, white tables, small enough for intimate conversations, sat close to the house. Two larger ones rested farther away from the double glass doors that led into the busy kitchen. A tall, thin man in blue shorts, white T-shirt and a 'Kiss the Cook' apron stood guard over the glowing grills, searing the main course to perfection. He waved briefly at his wife and then returned his attention to cooking. Most of the other adults were inside the house, catching the last few minutes of the baseball game. Four youngsters, ranging in age from three to ten, were running and tumbling over a patch of perfect green lawn and on their heels leapt a big golden dog.

"Hey you kids quiet down a little will ya," warned Bridgett.

Five heads popped up over the hedge. "Sorry Mom," said a young, sandy haired boy.

Bridgett shook her head. "Do you remember making that much noise when you were a kid?"

Jamie's face clouded over with a mixture of emotions. "No, not when I was a kid."

The hostess didn't want to overwhelm her guest with a dozen introductions, but there was one she just had to make. She scanned the faces looking for her target. "Come on Jamie," she said taking her by the arm, leading her to one of the smaller tables nestled in the corner of the yard. As they got closer, the woman sitting there suddenly captured Jamie's wandering attention.

"Excuse me for a minute," said Bridgett. "I'll be right back." She ran to break up a scuffle between her son and his cousin.

Jamie stood rooted to the spot. She knew her staring was rude, but the woman didn't seem to notice. But Jamie sure noticed her. She's beautiful. She then amended her thought. She's the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She looked away and shook her head. You can't even go there, so just stop it now, Jamie told herself. Anxiousness washed over like she hadn't felt in a long time. A time, which she could now say, was the worst in her life. But in the next instance it felt like her spirit was being illuminated from the inside. She jumped when Bridgett touched her arm.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

The dark head shook. "No, its okay, I was just thinking."

"Not about leaving I hope."

"No," Jamie said, with a small smile. "Actually, I just realized that it might be a very interesting night."

"Good." The hostess led her over to the table that had garnered Jamie's attention, seconds earlier. "Erin." The blonde turned in their direction. "Jamie, I'd like you to meet my sister, Erin Casey. Erin, this is my friend, Jamie Sheridan."

The seated woman held out her hand, which Jamie eagerly took. "It's nice to meet you Jamie. Bridgett told me all about you."

"I can't imagine that was a long description," the tall woman chuckled.

Bridgett playfully slapped her arm. "Would you stop being so hard on yourself. Now sit down and talk my sister. She already ate, but she'll keep you company. I'll get you something to eat."

Bridgett scurried away before Jamie could say anything. She turned to the other woman. "Is your sister always so??"

"Bossy."

"Well, I was going to be polite, but yes." Jamie took the chair closest to her new acquaintance.

"Brig sometimes makes it impossible to be polite. I love my sister and she always?well almost always, means well, but she is pushy. But you should know, you work with her."

"Next to our boss she's a kitten, so I guess I didn't realize it. You know we've only had lunch a few times, so I was a little surprised when she invited me here."

"Like I said, she has a good heart and she thinks you're lonely," Erin added, timidly.

"I'm more like a lost cause," whispered the dark haired woman.

Erin's acute hearing caught the words and let the comment float around in her brain as she got to know the Jamie better. The blonde thought herself to be a very good judge of character and she knew that this woman needed something. She may not admit she's lonely, but she knows she's alone. And everyone needs someone to love. Love? Where did that come from?

"Here you go, "said Bridgett, as she returned with nourishment for her guest.

Jamie's eyes widened at the sight of the plate, piled high with goodies. "I can't eat all of this."

"Oh sure you can," Bridgett said. "You're always telling me you only eat take out and this is good food, if I do say so myself. Look at it as if you're storing up for a few days." She turned to the giggling blonde. " Can I get you some more iced tea, Sis?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Erin smiled and Jamie almost dropped the fork that was half way to her mouth. That smile seemed to light up the whole world, or maybe just her world.

"My sister seems to think that everyone has my appetite," laughed the younger woman.

"Yeah, but did you eat this much?" Jamie asked, after swallowing the mouth full of salad.

"I had enough to fill up for a week. I'm a pretty good cook, but I don't do it to much, just for me."

"Well that beats me, I can't cook at all," said Jamie, as she continued to sift through the piles of food stacked on the foam plate in front of her. Her thoughts floated back to a time long ago.

"Sweetheart this is the best meal you've ever made," said Michael Sheridan, as he scooped another helping of potato salad onto his plate.

His wife reached down and kissed his cheek, as she passed by. "You say that about every meal I cook. But thank you."

"And our beautiful little girl here, is going to be just like you, when she's grows up. Aren't you Jamie?" asked, the dark haired man.

The seven-year-old just nodded, because her mouth was full of her last bite of hot dog.

Amy Sheridan sat down on the wooden bench next to her daughter. "Do you want something else to eat Honey?"

The dark head shook. "No Mommy, I'm full."

Amy smiled. "Well, that's too bad," she said teasingly. "I've got strawberry shortcake for desert, but if you don't have any room..."

Jamie's blue eyes widened and the little wheels in her brain spun around. She scooted off the bench and ran across the grass, for about twenty feet, and then she ran back and stopped right in front of her mother. "I have room now, Mommy."

Her parents laughed.

Jamie remembered later on, flying a kite with her father. His strong arms held her up, while she held onto the string. They ran across the field as the red diamond dipped and swooped, high in the sky. Her mother sat by smiling, watching the antics of her family. The wind began to die down and Michael reeled in the kite, as Jamie ran over to her mother.

"Did you see, Mommy? Did you see how high I made it go?" she asked excitedly, as she was lifted onto her mother's lap.

"I sure did Honey. You are the best kite flyer ever."

They were soon joined by, a slightly out of breath, Michael. "Well Pumpkin, I think we should be heading home," he said.

A slight frown fell over the girl's face.

"Don't worry Honey," said her mother, with a kiss to the top of her head. "We'll come back again, I promise."

Jamie hopped down off her mother's lap and turned to face both of her parents. "Can we do one more thing?" she asked, emphasizing her point by holding up one small finger.

The Sheridan's had a hard time refusing their daughter anything. "What do you want to do Sweetheart?" asked Amy.

Little Jamie took that finger and pointed to her left, over the hill. Just the top of the colorful, rotating object could be seen, but the cheerful calliope music was letting its notes be heard, loud and clear.

They should have known. The carousel was their daughter's favorite.

"Let's go," said Michael.

Standing in between her parents, holding onto their hands, Jamie looked up at them with twinkling blue eyes and a semi-toothless grin. Her parents looked at her, then at each other. What Jamie didn't know was what they were thinking. They knew how wonderful it would have been to have two just like her, but after losing Jordan, they vowed to each other, to cherish every moment Jamie's life and give her all the love in the world. Hand in hand, the happy family ran over the hill, where all three mounted majestic steeds and rode side by side. Jamie never wanted the day to end.

"Jamie," the sweet voice called again.

A hand on her arm brought her back from the memory. "What? I'm sorry, I drifted away for a minute."

The melancholy in her voice was unmistakable, but again Erin didn't pry. She didn't want this woman to bolt because of her curiosity. "That's okay," Erin said. "I just wanted to give you a little hint." She leaned in, as if to tell a secret. "Leave some room for the desserts," she whispered. "There is a chocolate cake over there that you just have to try."

"That good huh?"

"Its fantastic." There was a hesitation before Erin continued. The adorable giggle sounded again. "But chocolate is one of my weaknesses," she admitted.

Jamie ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth. "You didn't happen to make this fantastic cake did you?"

A blush flew to the blonde woman's cheeks and she dropped her head. Jamie suddenly saw how the sun highlighted the vague red accents in the Irish woman's short-cropped hair. Feather like hair that framed an angelic face. She didn't want to be caught staring, so she took a quick sip of her soda. Jamie had been a notorious tease since her teen years, although then it was just used to get something, but she still loved to do it. Now, the only recipients of that facet of her personality were the older people who shared her apartment building. Watching the cute reaction of the woman in front of her meant only one thing; more teasing was in order. She cleared her throat. "Gee, I'd really like to try that fantastic cake, but there's so much food here and I wouldn't want to insult Bridgett."

Erin teased back. "Oh, she wouldn't be insulted?but I might." She flashed that one thousand-watt smile.

I think I just met my match, thought Jamie. "Well in that case, I'll definitely have some later."

Their conversation turned to the normal getting to know one another questions. Erin was very open about herself, but Jamie tended to give short non-descript, although honest answers. Lying made her feel horribly guilty, but there were still things that she couldn't tell anyone and to those questions she simply said she'd rather not talk about it.

"So what do you do at GB Scrolls?" asked Erin, as she sipped her cool drink.

Between bites of the good California cuisine, Jamie explained that she was a proofreader and did some data entry. "I've always loved to read, so it seemed like something I could do. The computer work, I've only learned since I've been there, but it was pretty easy for me to pick up. So what occupies your workday?"

Erin gave a small ironic chuckle. "As a matter of fact, I'm a writer."

That little fact piqued Jamie's attention. "Really, what do you write?"

"Don't laugh," begged the little blonde.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because my literary endeavors run a wide trail of interests and genres. I started out writing children's books."

"Well that's certainly nothing to laugh about. In fact I think early childhood is the best part of any of our lives."

Erin detected a hint of sadness in her response. "I agree," she said. "I love kids. My niece and nephew, over there, have me wrapped around their fingers and they take every opportunity to exploit that fact."

Jamie took a long glance at the children, playing tag across, the yard. She had seen pictures of Bridgett's children sitting on her desk at work, so it was easy for her to pick out the sandy haired, seven-year-old, whose name, she knew was Conner. His three-year-old sister, who was now hugging, practically riding the big dog, was named Caitlin. Unlike her brother, mother or her father, she had hair the color of corn silk. She was a miniature version of her favorite aunt. "And you really love it," said Jamie.

Erin drew a lop-sided smile over her face. "Guilty as charged."

Jamie finished her last bite of food, at least the last she dare take. "If you'll excuse me," she said, carefully balancing her plate in one hand and her cane in the other. "I'm going to get a piece of that fantastic cake, before it all disappears. Can I get you something?"

"No thank you. I'm fine."

You certainly are, Jamie's mind shouted as she walked away. What a totally mysterious person you are Jamie Sheridan, thought Erin. Even though we just met and you certainly didn't give up any personal information, I feel like I've known you forever. It's odd, but nice.

Jamie stood at the desert table slipping a piece of the chocolate confection on to her plate. She couldn't help but to look back at the blonde author, who seemed deep in thought. She tried to be inconspicuous in her study of the young woman. I wonder what color her eyes are? Blonde hair, hmmm, most people would say blue, but they're green, I just know it. Brilliant green. I wish she'd take off those glasses. Damn California sun. Jamie returned to her seat and started to dive into her desert. "So what's the next trail you ventured down on your literary adventures?"

Erin hesitated only a moment before answering. "Poetry."

"Romantic or otherwise?" Jamie asked, with a sneaky lilt. "And this cake is fantastic by the way."

"Romantic, of course and thank you." Erin shifted in her seat, stretching out her stiff legs. Her right foot struck something hard.

Jamie gasped and pulled her foot back.

Erin sat straight up. "I'm sorry Jamie, was that you!?"

"Sort of," she chuckled. "I broke my ankle four weeks ago. I hate this damn cast. It's gotten in my way and kept me from doing more things then I can count."

"Did I hurt you?" Erin asked with obvious concern.

"No. No, its fine."

"You're sure?"

"Positive," insisted Jamie.

Erin released a breath and relaxed back into her seat. "How did you do it?" The proverbial cat had nothing on Erin Brienne Casey.

Jamie dismissed it with a casual wave of her hand. "Oh, it was a silly accident. Maybe I'll tell you about it some other time. Right now, I'd much rather hear more about you. You're right, children's books and poetry are certainly different."

"As they say, you ain't heard nothing yet. My latest project was science fiction."

Once again the fork stopped halfway to Jamie's mouth as the bells and whistles went off and connections ran around her brain, finally deciding she couldn't be that lucky. But she had to ask anyway. "Are you E. B. Casey?who wrote The Noah Factor?"

A warm smile answered her question before the words did. "Yes, I wrote that."

Jamie was momentarily stunned; trying to form every word she'd ever wanted to say to this woman. "I apologize before hand, because I'm about to gush and most likely make a fool of myself. But I swear, every word will be true."

Children's laughter ran in circles, sounds of nature abound and conversations were all around the small table, but they all filtered down to a whisper, as all Erin could seem to hear, was the rich voice of this new?friend. Yes, this woman was fast becoming a friend. Jamie told her it was her all time favorite book. How she'd read it three times and every time she'd found something new that touched her. She failed to add that the words on those pages pulled her back from the brink of self-destruction. But Erin read between the lines, so to speak and caught a hint of the unspoken meaning. Jamie's comments went on for several minutes until she finally had to stop and take a drink. Erin was incredibly heartened at all the kind words. She didn't know what to say except a simple, thank you.

A force that she couldn't even put a name to compelled Jamie; she reached out to cover the author's hand and with a deep breath, garnered the courage to make the hard confession. "No, thank you. That story literally saved my life. I read it at a time when I was totally giving up on myself. I saw something in your words that no counselor, psychiatrist, psychologist or spiritual leader could have shown me in a lifetime?hope."

The blonde author pushed aside the lump in her throat to release her response. "Well," the word came out as a small breath. "I'm supposed to be that good and I can't think of a thing to say. Actually, yes I can. I have never in my life been so glad to put words to paper. I knew there had to be a reason for the accident. Now I know, because I never would have written that story if I hadn't had that loss. Thank you for being here."

Both women sat back with a heavy sigh. Jamie seemed to have missed last part of Erin's comment; her emotions were just too high. "I didn't mean to make every thing so serious here," she said.

"Yes, I think we could both use a little diversion," the author suggested. "What time is it?"

Jamie checked the leather-banded watch, around her wrist. "Its 8:08."

Erin considered a moment. "Would you like to take a walk in the gardens?"

Jamie mirrored the smile on the other woman's face. "Sure, that sounds nice." Before Jamie could stand, she heard the smaller woman release a piercing whistle.

"Arte, Artemis. Come here girl," Erin called, enthusiastically. In the next second, the big dog that had been playing with the children came lumbering over to her owner. Erin leaned down and vigorously rubbed the dog's head and scratched behind the floppy ears. "Did you have a good time playing with the kids, huh?" The canine responded by painting the woman's face with affectionate doggie kisses. Erin grabbed the leather harness around the dog's body with her left hand and with her right she reached for the handle that had been lying over the arm of her chair. She attached the two ends to the harness and let the dog lead her away from the table.

After just a few steps, Erin could tell that her friend wasn't following and she turned back. "Is something wrong Jamie? Is your ankle hurting?"

Jamie felt like a total idiot. Why didn't Bridgett tell me?? How could I not have?? She knew Erin was waiting for an answer and that her silence had probably already insulted the gracious woman. "No, no I'm fine. It's just?I'm sorry?I didn't realize?"

"That I was visually impaired?" supplied the younger woman.

"Yeah." Jamie kicked her self mentally. Well you did it again, chased away another friend. Then something totally unexpected happened. A smile greeted her when she looked back up.

"That's okay," said Erin. "I didn't know you had a broken ankle, until I kicked it. Let's go."

The gardens consisted of meandering, embedded stone pathways bordered on one side by perfectly sculptured green hedges. The inside area of the walkway, greeted its visitors with a rainbow of petals of all shapes and heights. A spectacular rose garden of white and red was the next area they quietly passed through. The charming Irish author with a smile that could chase away the world's cares quickly alleviated the earlier feelings of embarrassment Jamie had felt. Now a comfortable silence fell between them. Besides the occasional birdcall or clicking insect, their footfalls were the only comforting sounds, having left the bustle of the party behind them. Lilac permeated the air as they walked through the lavender budded bushes. Jamie was content to follow wherever the other woman would lead her. They rounded a curve and encountered a footbridge over a small water garden, complete with falls and floating water lilies. Jamie was actually quite surprised with herself as she took in all the beauty around her. Normally she wasn't one to stop and smell the roses of life, but being in the present company and the nature that surrounded them, she felt...alive. Finally they arrived at their destination. Erin seated herself on an intricately carved, stone bench and invited her guest to do the same. Artemis sat obediently at her owner's feet, looking tired after hours of chasing after the children.

"These gardens are absolutely beautiful," said Jamie, wistfully.

"Yes, they are. Bridgett and I used to play here when we were kids. She says they're exactly the same, except for the water garden that they added."

"Was this your parents' house?"

"No, it belonged to a family friend and when they were ready to sell a few years ago, Bridgett jumped at it." Erin pointed to the huge expanse directly in front of them. "This is my favorite spot in the whole place. As much as I like the scent of roses and lilacs, this wildflower patch is the best." Erin sat there, enjoying the perfect moment, listening to the quiet, slow breathing next to her. "Are the butterflies here?" she asked softly.

"Yeah." An unconscious smile formed on the tall woman's face as she watched the delicate, winged creatures flitting about, their colors rivaling the blanket of petals below them.

A few minutes passed before anything else was spoken. "You can ask," Erin finally said.

Jamie feigned ignorance. "Ask what?"

"You would like to know what happened. How I lost my sight. It doesn't bother me. I know its only human curiosity. And if it wasn't for curiosity, no one would read my books."

"Well, I guess I was wondering."

The blonde head nodded. "It was an accident. Almost four years ago, I was in Houston, meeting with a new publisher about some illustrations for my children's books. I left the appointment and was walking back to my car. I had to pass by this chemical plant...they had a spill and then an explosion. Bad timing. I was right in its path. When I finally woke up, a few days later, it was gone."

"With all the advances in medical science, they couldn't do anything?"

"Then, no. But as a matter of fact, a doctor, doing research on injuries like mine, contacted me recently. He's made some breakthroughs with a new, experimental, treatment and surgery. But it also requires an organ donor. I do want to try it, so I went to the bottom of a very long list of other people waiting for transplants. Unfortunately not enough people think about organ donations. But, I can't really blame them. Before this happened, I never gave it a second thought."

Jamie looked away with guilt. "Neither have I?until now. Maybe you could give me some help on how to do that."

Erin smiled. "I will." This time it was she who reached out to put her hand on Jamie's arm. "Thank you. You know, I actually consider myself lucky. Four other people died in that explosion." Again the mood was getting to heavy. "It should be just about time."

"Time for what?"

The author turned to the other side and pointed in the direction of the sky. "For that."

Jamie's eyes drifted to the area. What she saw immediately sent her back to the pages of Noah Factor. Her mind re-reads the last passage. Simeron Noah slipped her hand into Jessie's. Her faithful horse, Star, nudged Sim's shoulder with her white muzzle. Star's new colt Sierra, asked Sim to explain, what was happening in the sky ahead of them.

Sim smiled and her pale blue eyes glowed with the reflection of the beginning sky show. "The sun that provides us with light during the day, moves away from us, pulling the darkness across the sky, behind it," she explained. "That means that this day is coming to an end. When you go to sleep in the dark and wake up again in the light, it will be a new day."

The little horse didn't fully understand the meaning of her words. She was only a week old and the big world and all of its simple and complex happenings were proving to be overwhelming. But Sierra knew that her mother's best friend Sim would be patient and teach her everything she needed to know. What she didn't realize was that she would need to pass on her knowledge to her own children. She was the first in line of this new evolution of the animal species. Sierra didn't know enough yet to be proud of this. But her first friend, Simeron Noah, smiled with that emotion, as she hugged the little horse's brown neck. Sim, Jessie and mother and child, peered out over the edge of the canyon. The glowing ball of fire was just beginning to dip between the tall mountain peaks. The surrounding sky swirled, gently painted with the almost indescribable colors of flaming red to fluffy pink to wispy purple. All draped over a sky of pale blue and dotted with puffs of ivory. The peace it ignited in every soul who gazed upon it, man and animal, was enough to insure a beautiful future for all the planet's new inhabitants. The shimmering edge finally disappeared completely, beyond the horizon, signaling the close of the first day of a new life on Terra Two.

"That's where you got it." Jamie's whispered voice dripped with awe.

"I thought you might recognize it."

Jamie sat there watching, until the glowing sphere completely sank below the horizon. She looked to see that Erin was still facing in that direction, not knowing that the amazing show was over and Jamie didn't quite have the heart to mention it. A single butterfly lit on the tip of her shoe before it took off to find cover from the coming darkness. "We'd better get back," Jamie said quietly, as if the previous moments had been constructed of glass and would shatter upon the sound of her voice.

"Yeah, I guess," Erin said, wistfully. "Knowing Bridgett, she'll come hunting us down before long." She was strongly regretting the evening's end.

Dusk settled over the fragrant gardens as the three visitors, two humans and one canine, slowly made their way back to the party. Small talk passed between the two humans, but after the dramatics that dominated the previous conversations, Erin and Jamie both wanted to end the night on a pleasant note. Notes of a melodious kind greeted them upon their return. Soft strains of music floated through the yard and tall torches lined the perimeter of the party area. Dancing flames provided a sensual shimmer, as the stone patio became an impromptu dance floor for three couples. The hostess and her husband were one of the swaying pairs, so involved in each other that Bridgett didn't even notice her sister's return. Jamie watched the romantic scene with a profound sadness, a self-imposed ache, but somehow that didn't seem to ease the pain any. Suddenly a warm hand slipped around her upper arm. Usually an unexpected touch would startle her, but not this one. It did however send an even stronger pain, accompanied with a sense of guilt, straight to her heart.

"Jamie," said the silky voice she'd been listening to all evening.

"What? I'm sorry, is something wrong?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. You were so quiet, I just wanted to make sure you were still here," Erin said with a smile. Even though she couldn't see it, she just knew that it was returned.

"I was just listening to the music, I guess," Jamie said, as she looked over the group.

"Is Brig around?"

"Yeah, she's dancing."

"Well, that figures. My sister is a hopeless romantic."

"And you're not?" The words left Jamie's mouth before she could stop them. Damn, why did I ask that?

The torchlight, behind Erin's head, softly highlighted the slight blush that rose to her cheeks. " Of course, I am." Or at least I want to be.

The next song started and that shudder went up Jamie's spine again. Damn! What is it about that song? It makes me feel so strange. It's a love song, so it obviously has nothing to do with me, but...

And I'm meeting you again for the first time

Two hearts, but one soul

Two halves are now whole

Cause you know who I am

And you know what I need

I'm safe in your arms

And you make me believe

The song continued on and Jamie suddenly realized that the small woman had not removed her hand. She reached up to cover the fingers around her arm and smiled. "A...Erin..."

"There you are," said Bridgett as she approached them, interrupting Jamie's words. "I was just about to come looking for you two."

The dark haired woman jumped at the voice and her thought flew away with the moment. "It's a good thing you were pre-occupied then." Jamie nodded toward the other dancing couples.

"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it," said the red head.

Erin felt the tall woman stiffen beside her. Her natural curiosity was screaming at her to find the answers to this mysterious and troubled woman.

"Are you ready to go Jamie?" asked the hostess.

There was a hesitation during which a small part?okay a big part of her wanted to stay. But she knew it was over. It was time to go. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't come at all, she thought. "Yeah, I'm ready," she said, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice.

"Okay, give me about ten minutes. Can I get you anything sis?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Why don't we sit down?" suggested Erin. "My sister said you live close to Paramount Studios?"

"Yeah. Are you living here with your sister?"

"No, actually I have a place at the beach, but since it's so late, I'm staying here tonight. Brig will take me home in the morning."

"Well, Erin it was nice meeting you. Thank you for showing me the sunset and the other beautiful sights."

Bridgett came bouncing back to the table. "We can go now Jamie."

"Nice meeting you to Jamie. I hope we can talk again sometime."

"Maybe," came the forced cheerful response. "Goodbye Erin."

The two women walked away, leaving Erin in her silent contemplation. Her left hand affectionately stroked the golden head sitting at her side. The evening had been a total surprise to her. She had expected to sit alone, enjoying the sounds of her family having a good time, exchanging the occasional words with her sister or maybe reading to her niece. And she would have been content with all those activities. But meeting Jamie stirred something inside of her. Something she hadn't felt in a long time. If she were totally honest with herself, something she had never felt. During their short time together, Erin was captivated by the enigmatic quality the woman had. She longed to know what she looked like, drawing several illustrations in her vivid mind. I have to talk to her again. I can get her phone number from Bridgett. I can invite?

"Aunt Ewin," said the small voice, interrupting her thoughts. "Can I sit in you wap?"

"Sure sweetie." She picked up her niece and settled her sideways. "Are you tired honey?"

The small head bobbed up and down and lay back against her aunt. Erin rocked the tiny body and softly hummed a lullaby, while thinking about her future.

Bridgett's van cruised down the LA freeway, cutting through the darkness, nearing the lights of the city. The radio had been the only sound in the car for the first few miles, but Bridgett thought it was about time. "I told you so," she said, as they passed under the one-mile warning sign for her exit.

Jamie kept her steely gaze forward. "You told me so what?" Jamie asked, hiding a small smirk.

"That you'd have a good time."

"And how do you know I had a good time?"

"That's easy. I figured you'd stay at least an hour to be polite. An hour and a half if you liked the music and the food. Two hours if you snuck one of your books in under your shirt and found a quiet corner. But four hours, you must have been deliriously happy."

"Smart ass. You're pretty proud of yourself huh?"

"Absolutely. Even if you did monopolize all of my sister's attention."

Jamie turned to the driver at the mention of her favorite subject. "Why didn't you tell me she was a famous author?"

The older woman shrugged. "I guess I don't think of her that way. To me, she's just my sister."

"Well, she's the most interesting person I've met in a long time. No offense."

Bridgett laughed softly. "None taken. And I agree with you. She's great. But I know she's lonely. I don't understand why she won't go out with any of the dates I offer to set her up with. They're all nice men."

"I'm sure your sister will find her happiness," Jamie said as the car pulled into the parking area behind her apartment building. Stopping under a brilliantly lit lamppost, Bridgett parked the car, intending to wait until her friend was safely inside. Jamie lifted a casted foot and slid out of her seat. She closed the door and stuck her head back into the rolled down window. "I'll see you Monday, Bridgett." She started to walk away, but turned back again with a crooked smile. "And I did have a good time. Thank you."

Jamie dug the keys, to her apartment, out of the pocket of her snug fitting jeans. She didn't know what was worst part about breaking her ankle, having to cut back on her exercise regiment, having to maneuver with the stupid cane or having to split the leg of all her jeans to fit over the huge, ugly hunk of plaster on her left foot. The overhead light in her small living room sprang to life with the flick of a switch. The clunk of keys hitting the coffee table was followed immediately by the punch of the button on the stereo. A Miller Lite, which she had pilfered from the party, with two swallows missing, soon sat next to the keys. Jamie reached for the TV remote and hit the power button, then the mute. She flipped through two dozen channels, not really seeing what was on any of them, before she turned it off again. Jamie thought she had the restlessness beaten. There was something inside, chasing around her nervous system like two roller coasters on a collision course. She hadn't felt this since her teen years, when she was fighting herself. Before Jamie left her foster home, she had been through four counselors. One she scared away, two just gave her up as a lost cause and one had more serious problems then she did, she'd found out first hand. Only years later, after the string of tragedies, did she discover that she could lose herself in books. That's when her life, such as it was, started to come together. Jamie swallowed the last of her beer, dropped the bottle in the recycle bin and headed to the bathroom. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and brought a hand up to rub her jaw. Why does my face hurt? she thought. Because you haven't smiled that much in a long time, dummy. She stared at her own reflection, but only saw the beautiful, blonde headed author. Her smile was infectious though. The grin soon faded as two other faces flashed across her memory. A tear slid down her cheek and plowed another deep furrow of grief on her well-worn soul.

Jamie scowled at herself. "You could hide behind her mask of blindness for awhile, but eventually she'd still see right into your soul and go running into the night. I can't do that again. I can't do that to her."

http://www.xenafiction.net/scrolls/colleen_afs1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

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Afrodita
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la Afrodita » 22 lis 2012 22:37

priča o prijateljicama i njihovim prvim ljubavima i ljubavnim dramama...

~ D'Artagnan ~
by Zee

Jen Bridgewater is the reigning queen of our pack and we are but her lackeys. She's tall and beautiful in with long chestnut hair and blue-eyes that would make a Nazi jealous. She's a lawyer in her father's firm so she has it all: the looks, the brains, and the money. Unfortunately, she's a major bitch and she really does think she's God's gift to women. As I understand it she likes it rough, and no I don't know this from personal experience, I mean I did have a small crush on her but I've so gotten over that. I know this useless piece of info from some of my girlfriends or ex-girlfriends that she stole from me. One or two came back telling tales and pleading their 'I'm sorry' and blah, blah. I'm sorry if you've slept with Jen I won't touch you with a ten-foot pole. I know that Jen and my sister Olivia are fuck buddies on occasion, she never talks about it but sometimes I see a mark or two and I just know. My sister and Jen use to date until Jen broke it off. I think Olivia is still in love with her, but that's none of my business. Olivia is about two years older than me we both have dark hair and pale skin, her eyes are more of a gold why mine are brown. She works as an upper level manager for MR Technologies. She's a good sister but I wish she'd get over Jen and start dating seriously. Then there's Ashley. She's got short spiky hair that she's started dying blonde; she's the shortest of us at 5'4". Its funny that she was calling me a dyke when she looks like the queen of stereotypical dykes, but oddly she's bi-sexual. Actually Ashley is just sexual, she doesn't let a little thing like gender slow her down. She works as an accountant for the local correctional facility. I'm brought out of my musings by someone yet again telling me what my problem is.

"You know what your problem is, Carmen?"

Christ here they go again. Its going to be my clothes again or college.

"Your too nice you let people just walk all over you."

I snort, "Yeah like you guys."

"Hey that was uncalled for."

I roll my eyes again and reach into my pocket for a cigarette and matches.

"Don't even think it." Jen growls out.

Sighing I put them back, it's a bar I should be allowed to smoke other people are smoking. Olivia gives me a shoulder hug, "So sis what have you been up too?"

"Oh you know the usual. Working at Fleet Feet Couriers and here spinning disks. Oh I went mountain biking with Kevin today."

"You know if you went back to school and got a degree you could be making a lot more money¼"

I cut Ashley off. "I like my life guys." I need a break from them and there critique of my wasted life. "I'm going to go outside and smoke."

They just grunt at me and turn their attention to the bar patrons sizing up potential conquests. Outside the air is tangy with the scent of spring that is just arriving on the heels of winter it is almost sweet and bitter like you can taste winter's anger at being replaced by spring. I sniff again catching a whiff of lilacs. A small smile tugs at my lips at the smell and I pull out the pack of cigarettes, but it almost seems sacrilegious to block out that smell. I fumble with the matches wondering what I did with my lighter. I could have sworn I had it before I entered the bar, but lighters are tricky that way. Lighters are an unfaithful lot and have a tendency to wander, but matches are loyal they stick with you even if you accidentally wash them. I finally get the match to light and I make an assign comment in my head, look Carmen make fire. I follow that thought with some ape grunting noises.

I made a funny and I chuckle at myself. Suddenly a voice purrs in my ear, "You shouldn't smoke you know. Its bad for your health."

What the fuck? I jump back startled. My head whips around to the left and I am struck dumb. I am so cured I will never ever light another stinken cancer stick again if she will be my reward for kicking the habit. The voice is attached to the most gorgeous thing in the female gender that I have ever scene. She is taller than me with short curly red hair and deep blue eyes, which I'm sure, would look like the ocean if I had ever seen the ocean. My mouth gaps open and the unlit cigarette falls to the ground but I don't really care.

"Sorry." She says with a grin, which makes me think she's not sorry at all. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh it was my pleasure." I croak out all suave. But oddly it is my pleasure because my long lost libido that I had thought had gone south for the winter only never to return has comeback with a big old howdy in my pants.

She arches a red eyebrow at my comment.

"Oh shit. Here let me get the door for you." I quickly get the door open and she smiles and that smile makes me a big happy puddle of naughty thoughts.

"Thank you." She extends a hand. I take it floating on cloud 9. "Anna Russell."

"Uh, er, uh. I'm Carmen Webster."

Her eyes go slightly large, "Really?"

"Uh, yes." Something strange has just happened and if my libido would quit doing the happy dance in my jeans I could probably figure it out. However, before anything more can be said and exchanged she walks away into the bar, I think she muttered something like "my you've changed." I must be hearing things cause to imply that I've changed would mean taking on the assumption that we know each other before now, but I know there's no way I would forget someone like Ms. Russell¼ le roew.

The door closes and I let her get away but I just shrug, she so out of my league why dwell on it. I stoop over and pick up my fallen comrade and strike another match. While I'm standing outside drawing the nicotine goodness into my lungs, I toy with the idea of just going home, but I know if I leave without saying good-bye I'll never hear the end of it. I ponder if it's worth it and then put the cigarette out and go back inside nothing is ever worth the shit they give me. As I go back into the bar I'm not surprised to find every drunken eye in the place latched on to the newcomer, Ms. Russell. However, I am surprised that Jen isn't trying to work her magic all over Ms. Russell. Jeff is mixing the beautiful red head a drink at the bar. He catches my eye as I walk in and gives me an evil grin. My brain screams, don't Jeff. Don't do it. For the love of God don't do it. But its too late I know what's coming.

"Carmen." He shouts out.

"Jeff." I reply back lamely.

"Come over here." He wiggles is hand in a come here gesture.

I slink over to the bar trying to hold off the potentially awkward social situation that I know is coming.

"Carmen we've got a new patron to 'The Closet'. Carmen I want you to meet Anna Russell, she's visiting us from New York. Anna this is our resident Friday and Saturday night DJ." He paused letting them say their hellos before starting up again. "Anna since you are new to our fair city you'll need a tour guide. Carmen here being unattached would love to help you out."

Anna quirks an eyebrow, "Really."

They way she says 'really' makes the word naughty, well naughty in a good way. Honestly I love Jeff and all the gay boys at 'The Closet', but I do wish that they would mind their own damn business and stop playing matchmaker. I can feel the skin in my cheeks flaming out under her gaze.

"I¼ I¼" Come on Webster make a sentence here. "I, sure, I could play tour guide."

Ms. Russell's red, moist, lips, purse into a delicious smile. "Hmmm. What if I wanted to play something other than tour guide?" She asks with an innocent expression on her face while her lips drip innuendo.

My face turns even redder. Oh jeez, she's flirting. Women don't flirt with me.

"Uh¼" I stammer. Come on Webster flirt back you can do it.

"If you're looking for someone to play with around here I'll be more than happy to help you out." Replies Jen's voice from behind us.

Shit. Game over. I can't compete with Jen. Jen brushes past me whispering, "So out of your league Carmen." She grabs Anna's hand and kisses the knuckles.

For the first time I am really and truly angry with Jen, even though I let her do this shit to me all the time. "Jen." My voice comes from somewhere and it sounds pissed.

Jen looks at me clearly taken back but it doesn't last her face shifts into predatory mode. "Go away Carmen. Ms. Russell and I were having a private conversation."

"I¼ I¼" Is all I can stammer out as I look at the players. Jeff looks pissed at Jen and Anna just looks amused at the whole thing. Fuck it a woman I have known for all of five minutes is not worth Jen's wrath. I turn and go back to the table. As I approach I see my sister looking wistfully at Jen and Anna, and Ashley looks delighted.

Ashley looks up at me sipping her beer, "Whoa there. For a minute I thought you might have finally grown a pair." She jokes.

That's it. "I'm out of here."

"Awe. Jen stole your toy so now you're going to go home and pout."

"Shut up Ash!" I nearly shout. She looks befuddled at my anger.

I turn to my sister and I can't take the whipped puppy dog look on her face, "and for Christ's sake Olivia get over her and move on with your life." She just looks at me her golden eyes becoming moist and I feel like a shit. Disgusted with my friends but mainly with myself I stomp out of the bar with one thought burning in my head. Got to get me a better class of friends. My exit of righteous indignation complete I stand lost on the street corner unsure what to do. Should I go try to meet up with my roomies at the Castle? Or should I just head for home? Maybe Collin's Bar and Grill will have a live jazz band tonight I could check out? At a loss I automatically reach in my pocket for another cigarette, while I think over my options for the evening. Fumbling; I yet again can't find my lighter but I come up with a book of matches. I tear out a stick and strike it.

"I thought you might have listened to me the first time."

Ms. Russell had snuck up on me again. "Wha..? How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Sneak up on me?"

"You must think too loud. I was hardly sneaking."

Suddenly I realize the match that I had lit a few moments ago is now cooking my fingers to a light golden brown. Goddamn Ms. Russell is distracting. "Ow! Fuck!" Okay yes not the smoothest things to utter in female company. I release the burning match.

"See." She says with a sinful smile, "I told you smoking was bad for you."

I ever so suavely hold my burnt finger up to my mouth and blow on it to relieve the pain. This whole situation is weird. I'm not the type of girl other women flirt with or chase after. Nope no chase after girl here. Jen is the type that happens too. So needless to say I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that this gorgeous, hot woman is out here, with me, standing on at street corner at 9:45 at night. When she could be inside being smooth talked by Jen.

We're standing and I'm trying to think of clever dialog to engage her in¼ well something other than, "There's this motel up the street. You game?" I'm pretty sure she's the type of girl who would slap me if those words came flying out of my mouth. After a moment or two I give up on the clever dialog and go with, "Um, was there something you wanted?"

She looks at me and I swear its one of those smoldering looks I've read about in lesbian romance novels.

"Yes." She states. "There is something I want." She takes my hand the one I am now absently holding near my mouth. I'm not blowing on my finger any more in fact I've forgotten how to breathe. She slowly kisses my burnt finger and then opening her mouth her tongue pokes out. It is swirled along my skin and I can say honestly there is no more pain in that finger. She gives it a light kiss the tongue bath complete and releases my hand; it just flops down to my side.

"I was hoping you might take me back to your place."

Uh. Jesus. I haven't had sex in like 2 years and my sex drive is burning rubber and running laps in southern region. "I, I, c-c-can't." What the hell? What is wrong with me? My libido is doing the salsa of the sex fairies but the rest of me is scared by this amazingly hot woman and her rather aggressive come on. Okay in all fairness if I was Jen it would have been a PG rated come on, but I'm not Jen I'm me, and me is scared.

"Oh." Is all she says with a disappointed look and I want to kick myself in the head.

"Your more of a challenge than I thought Ms. Carmen Webster." She pulls out what looks like a business card and slides it into my back jeans pocket. I forget how to breathe when she does that.

"If you change your mind there's my number call me." Leaning over she kisses me lightly on the lips and turns and goes back into the bar, back to Jen.

I really want to tell her to comeback, but I don't. I feel like I missed an opportunity of a lifetime. Damn it I need beer, the Castle it is.

http://xenafiction.net/scrolls/zee_da1.html
I want her everywhere and if she's beside me I know I need never care but to love her is to need her everywhere knowing that love is to share

str8faith
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:04

VODA KORITO i sav taj rokenrol
Mama je javila da sutra ceo dan nećemo imati vode. Dakle baba preduzima sve što je u njenoj moći da što čistije provedemo sutrašnji dan. Proglašava ratno stanje, i kreće u ostavu da donese prazne balone, bure za rakiju, nekoliko staklenih flaša od soka od paradajza. Naravno puni se sve vodom, ređa u hodniku, mislim kao da nas ima hiljadu u kući, a ne samo ona i ja.
- Zašto mi ne pomogneš?
- Zato što si luda.
- UUUU ti si mi baš normalna.
- Od tebe nije teško biti normalniji. Kao da ćemo ceo dan da se peremo, molim te i korito donesi.
- E vidiš Eržika ima korito, saću da je zovem, ne znam samo ko će ići u Kać po to. Alo Erži, ti imaš korito, jel? Aj mi pozajmi molim te, sutra nećemo imati vode pa da se kupamo. Pa imamo. Pa i to što kažeš. Aj ćao. Kaže da se kupamo u kadi.
- MA NEMOJ! U kadi?
- Da ja skroz zaboravila. Ali mi imamo tuš kabinu. Kako ćemo?
- Alo ženo okupaćeš se večeras, i onda kad stigne voda.
- A ŠTA AKO BUDE TOPLO??? Ja se mnogo znojim.
- Upalićeš klimu.
- Pa da umrem onda? Jesi li ti normalna?
- Dobro Zorice, lavor.
- Mali nam je taj lavor.
- Zašto ja vodim ovaj razgovor sa tobom, osećam se kao kreten.
- Kad budeš bila dama onda ćeš se osećati kao dama.
- Dobro GOSPOĐO moja.
- E tako je ja sam gospođa, grofica.
- Daj pare onda grofice.
- Tebi? Ni u ludilu. Jesi gladna?
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:04

Ona ima INTURICIJU
Sedim, pijem kafu, baba uleće sa kesama, prilazi frižideru, uzima rakiju, popije malo, vraća flašu, seda pored mene. Ja ne reagujem. Baba naravno besna što ja nisam već skočila da je pitam šta je bilo, pa diše glasno.
- Dobro Zorice šta je?, - Ništa!, - Hajde reci, uskoro krećem, nećeš imati vremena., - Ja sam u šoku!, - Dobro šta još ima novo Zorice nemoj me smarati istim frustracijama, majke ti., - Nisu to frustracije, ne, ne. Te stvari su oko nas, ti ljudi su oko nas. Imamo vešticu u komšiluku! Sve mi je sad jasno. Neko cveće sam presađivala, nije uspelo uvenulo je, pa meni se to nikada nije desilo EJ! To nam je ona uvračala. Sećaš se kad sam prala one tvoje pantalone pa su se pokidale, ona opet ona. Pa što nam je luda Nata bila na kafi, - Nataša Bekvalac?, - Ju da nam je ona bila ja bih odmah krenula da se selim, nego ona luda Nata iz komšiluka, došla na kafu, a nikad nije, to sve ta veštica. Znaš kako me gleda? Znaš kako me gleda? Ma onako onaj pogled, crrrrna kosa ona gadna, štrokava, čuva pacove u kosi dam glavu. Joj šta će nam se još desiti, kakav maler?, - Ti si poludela, ja neću više piti kafu ovde kod tebe, pa jesi li ti normalna?, - Mia ne razumeš ja imam inturiciju, ja osetim sve, aha, aha, ja ZNAM stvari., - Plašiš me Zorice sad, majke mi. Aj zovi nekog da mu to ispričaš, ja ne mogu., - A šta ti možeš mala, samo sereš ne mogu ne mogu, sve nešto ne možeš., - Pa ne mogu da slušam više kako oko nas ŽIVE VEŠTICE JEL ČUJEŠ TI SEBE?, - Sebe, ma šta sebe da čujem, i tebe jedva čujem, e jesi gladna?
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:05

Ćao Eržika Marš Zvaću te

Jao Eržika zovem te da ti čestitam na novom predsedniku, mislim ne znam ni ja zašto, niti se ko raduje, niti je ko tužan, ravnodušnost nas je sve pojela, pa smo mi onda pojeli ovu Srbiju, i tako to je neki lanac ishrane valjda. Ćuti Erži, samo nek smo ti i ja žive i zdrave, hajde dođi jedan dan da probaš orahovaču, ako ova alkoholičarka nije sve popila, čekaj da vidim, vidi nije, jel vidiš, a da ne možeš da vidiš, jel imaš ti kompjuter, Mia ima nešto možemo da se gledamo, ona se gleda stalno i priča sa nekim, ali ne mogu da shvatim sa kim, mislim taj neko je ispred svog kompjutera a ona ispred svog, ti si u Kaću a vidiš mene u Novom Sadu. Znaš kako je to zgodno. E kad se setim kad sam plakala Marinku da mi kupi tranzistor, a sad možeš preko kompjutera i decu da praviš. Znači nemaš kompjuter Erži moja. Nema veze. Možemo i ovako da pričamo. Hajde dođi jedan dan da spavaš kod mene, gledaćemo Sulejmana i kartaćemo se, a kažem ti ima i te rakije, možemo malo i mi da se opustimo, šta. Ajde molim te, kao da je to zabranjeno. Pa svi piju, i deca i matori i mladi i svi. Nekad tako kad idem ulicom i ne vidim bar jednu osobu koja se tetura iznenadim se. Ja da sam samo malo mlađa, ih pa svaki dan bih pila. Nego, ti ne bi? U bre ti si Erži baba neka zajebana. Ma marš ti, znaš, i nemoj da dođeš, u kuću da mi ne ulaziš. Znaš. Ajde čujemo se sutra, gori mi ručak. Ajde, ljubim te. MIA JESI GLADNAAA?
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:06

Jutro

Jedno sasvim obično jutro u našem malom slatkom stanu, baba i ja pijemo kafu, gledamo jutarnji program, ona mnogo voli jutarnji program zato što sazna stanje na putevima, jer će voziti, sazna vremensku prognozu, jer će izaći više puta iz kuće, čuje savete lekara za ovaj dan, čuje šta se dešava u gradu, pošto će izlaziti, sazna neki novi recept, jer ih nema SVE koji postoje ikada na svetu. I tako, gomila informacija je potrebna jednoj mojoj babi da započne naporan dan, još jedan zapravo samo u nizu jer svaki je naporan.
Kada se jutarnji program završi, obično mi održi neko predavanje o životu, ko smo mi, gde idemo i odakle dolazimo, kako je u njeno vreme bilo divno živeti, kao da namerno želi da mi nabija na nos, kao dete, ti nisi živela u tim lepim vremenima nja nja njanjanjaaa, PROPUSTILA si to sve, kako smo išli gde smo hteli kad smo hteli, i nikoga nismo pitali za dozvolu.
Nakon toga obavezna poseta pijaci, koja se završi tako što je nesrećna i nezadovoljna i svi su glupi, zapravo moja baba je u nekom večitom PMS-u koji nikako da prođe, a i razumem je, malo sam i ja tako raspoložena.
Zapravo suština našeg odnosa je to što se RAZUMEMO, i naravno gomila kolača, krofni, palačinaka, mekika, krofni i tako, hrana spaja ljude. Pogotovo jednu baku i jednu unuku. Mnogo voli kada joj kažem da sam gladna, a ja sam uvek gladna, tako da sam ja jedna unuka za poželeti. Možete me iznajmiti kada ne možete više da jedete kod vaših baba, rado ću se odazvati. IZNAJMITE UNUKU, treba biznis da pokrenem. Uopšte jako sam popularna među babama, tako da ću im se sigirno svideti, a vama pomoći ako više ne možete da jedete. Gladna sam.
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:06

Nerviranje do radnje

Vratila sam se iz radnje, i znaš šta sam videla? Dva mala dečaka, u onim patikama na debeli đon i sa kilo zlata oko vrata. Mia, ja sam mislila da je to vreme prošlo, ali sam se grdno prevarila. Zašto deci daju da tako izgledaju, meni to ne da nije jasno, nego ja bih te roditelje za uši pa kod nekog psihijatra. Ja sam o svom detetu vodila računa, da bude uredna, da bude pristojna u društvu.
A gola leđa! Pa šta je tu seksi, molim te? Ne razumem, šta si pokazala, bubreg, pa će te kao hteti svi muškarci. Mani me, te što idu golih stomaka i leđa namerno, to su lude žene, od njih treba bežati. Još kad sine onaj dijamant iz pupka, zaslepi te, pa povraća mi se.
I ta šminka danas, ko je vama rekao da morate da se šminkate tako kao prostitutke, lepite te trepavice, mažete malter na lice i karmine neke kurvanjske, pa sve to može lepo da izgleda, ako ne znaš, pitaj, nemoj sama od sebe praviti čudovište. DA, DA mala čudovišta su te našminkane gole devojčice, to žensko nije. Pa više ženskosti u sebi ima bandera nego ta mala. Još kad vidim da ima momka, dođe mi da uzmem marker i zaokružim na njoj šta sve ne valja, mada se uvek pitam možda je slep taj dečko. Treba izgledati kao žena Mia, to ti stalno ponavljam. I ti kad te vidim sa onim maramama, uh kroz prozor bih te izbacila iz kuće. Patike su posebna priča, i to pocepane, pa imaš li ti Mia neke čitave patike? Sve su ti dronjave, kao ona Rijana, majko mila da vam ta higijenski neispravna osoba diktira modu da idete tako pocepane, ne razumem. Iznerviram se samo kada krenem u radnju, neću više iz kuće izlaziti, ti ćeš ići u radnju od sada. Jesi gladna?
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:07

Bile smo na pijaci
Morale smo da poranimo, mislim da je još uvek bio mrak kada smo krenule, da ne bude gužve, jer pored promaje, babin najveći neprijatelj je gužva. Zato izbegava redove, okupljanja, sastanke kućnog saveta, odlazak po prvi burek u Žeki, pijace posle 9 sati. Tako da smo mi u 7 već stigle da kupimo sve, baba se posvađa sa svakom ženom koja prodaje na pijaci, ali idem redom.
Stigle smo na pijacu i ona je istog momenta primetila komšinicu koja je to jutro došla kući u 3, a nije je muž doveo, ali ona ima troje dece i zamisli. Spisak za kupovinu je bio dugačak, pa smo kenule da kupujemo svaku vrstu povrća, pola toga ne znam ni šta je, ni kako se zove, ali eto nama to TREBA. Svađala se sa svim ženama oko toga da li je prskano da li je sveže da li je uvozno ili naše DA LI ĆE SE ODRONJAVITI AKO SKUVA i tako je svaka žena morala da popuni babinu mini anketu. Naravno niko nije toliko strpljiv bio da joj odgovori na sva pitanja, pa je svađa izbila na svakoj tezgi . Zaključila sam da one tako stalno, kao da izvode neku plesnu tačku, svaki vikend se svađaju i uživaju u tome. Kao da svu negativnu energiju izbace i prodavačice iz sebe a i moja baba.
Nezaobilazna tezga sa pamučnim gaćama, i naravno da je kupila 10 komada. I zapravo sve se kupuje po 10 komada, 10 kesica praška za pecivo, 10 kutija sa šibicama, 10 sijalica, 10 metara gume, 10 vezica mladog luka. Srele smo i jednu od njenih drugarica sa kojom je ugovorila robnu razmenu, ona njoj džem ova njoj sok od paradajza. Ugovorile su i dejt da idu u novu kinesku radnju koja se otvorila KOD KOKRE, večita misterija mi je oduvek bilo to Nađemo se kod Kokre. Kao da je to neka tajna lokacija.
Kupile smo i 10 milka čokolada, švercovanih naravno, baba mnogo voli Rumune i švercere, posebno ako je Rumun, pa još i švercer, baba se zaljubi. Dobila sam i dvolitarsku Nivea kupku, i gomilu nekih sunđera za pranje leđa koji će se verovatno ubuđaviti za par dana. Bez novog bodija nije mogla da prođe ni ova kupovina, tako da još par vikenda i otvaram svoj butik sa donjim vešom. Kad to sve prodam selim se na Kubu.
Vratile smo se kući punih cegera, pa mi je baba održala predavanje kako se drži torba na pijaci, da me ne pokradu, kako se u busu drži i kako će me zadaviti sa onim mojim kesurdačama koje nosim, to nisu torbe, prave dame nose ovo ono, zaspala sam u nekom momentu, poslednje što sam čula je Jesi gladna?
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:07

Rekli su o promaji

Zatvori vrata, hoćeš da me ubije promaja? Znaš li ti da je promaja moj najveći neprijatelj? Pa ja imam reumu, boli me kičma, na desnu nogu se teško oslanjam, a i danas me boli glava, i to je sve od promaje. Užas. Ja ne znam, vi mladi ste tako bahati, ne mislite na nas starije, jedna tako ko ti mala nije htela da mi ustane u busu, to sve razmaženo i bezobrazno. Ako ne ustaješ starijima u prevozu, nemoj mi se obraćati više. Nemoj ni da me gledaš. Jel ustaješ? Dobro, i majkama sa bebama, ali starije žene su STARIJE, njima prvo ustani. Jesi gladna?

Moj komentar: Desna ruka mi je polako postala mišićava od zatvaranja vrata, a još uvek nisam sigurna šta je promaja, a šta reuma. Kada mi baba objašnjava šta je reuma, svaki put kaže nešto drugo. Mladi su verovatno ponosni što stariji misle da su bahati, jer reč bahato je postala vrlo in. Ako ste primetili počela je o promaji, a završila na tome da li se ustaje u prevozu babama. I interesantno sve devojke su tako ko ja, ili tako ko moja sestra, kao da su to jedina godišta koja postoje. I sada već čuveno jesi gladna koje rešava sve životne probleme, i mislim da je to jedino pitanje na svetu koje je ujedno i odgovor na sve. Gladna sam.
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:07

Koja je Samanta?

O čemu pričaju četiri babe koje se kartaju.

Tema 1. Pare
Nemam para, znaš li ti koliko je kirija, pa ja mislim da će me šlog strefiti. Dobro da imam šta da jedem. Jaoj, juče sam bila kod kineza, znate kakvu sam divnu stazicu za kupatilo kupila, sa delfinima i školjkama, i istu takvu četku za wc šolju i držač za sapun. Moram sutra da odem da uzmem i takvu zavesu za tuš kabinu da sve lepo uparim.

Tema 2. Hrana
Jesi probala da napraviš onaj kolač što sam ti rekla? Probaj obavezno, samo moraš da paziš da ti je kalup dovoljan za duplu porciju. Ja sam juče pravila i nije mi nešto uspeo. Danas ću opet probati.

Tema 3. Deca
Ne razumem. Ne razumem. Ništa ja tu ne razumem. Nije mi jasno. U moje vreme. Ne razumem, mi kada smo bili mladi to nije postojalo. Mi kada smo bili mladi to ništa nije postojalo. Ne razumem.

Tema 4. Serije
Jesi li videla molim te kako ga je kurva nasamarila? A znala sam, znala sam. Kada bih samo nabavila njegov broj da mu javim da mu je uzela sve pare. Ma kad je tako glup neka ga. Ići će ona na kraju u zatvor to ti garantujem. Meni je tako lepa njegova žena. Predivna je, vidi se da je bogata, iz ugledne porodice, i sad šta će njemu ta kurva, lepo te pitam?

Tema 5. Pare
Nemam para juče su me opelješili u radnji ja ti kažem bez 1000 dinara ne mogu u radnju. A odakle meni 1000 dinara? Ne berem ja pare na drvetu, a šta sam kupila, praznu kesu sam kući donela. Ma užas, dobro je da sam živa. Videla sam na pijaci neke papuče, onako lepe letnje, ići ću sutra da ih kupim.

Tema 6. Kod lekara
I zamisli ona meni neće da opet prepiše tu terapiju, a znam da treba. Ja znam. Znam kako se osećam. Ona će meni šta ste dolazili. Ma ima da dolazim kad mi se ćefne zato si tu jebem ti život. Ona će meni, ma kad je odalamim jednom ima da se puši dom zdravlja 2 dana.
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:08

Muvanje u čekaonici
Joj, joj, joj, daj mi čašu vode. Brzo. Joj. Znaš šta mi se desilo, nemaš pojma, ne znaš, jel znaš? Ja, ja... Ne mogu ni da govorim, sela sam da sačekam red kod lekara, bila je gužva, i neki deda, priđe i pita da li je slobodno da sedne pored mene, ja glupača kažem da, baš ja znam da je on manijak, nasela sam, kako sam glupa, i sedne on. Nekako seo je tako blizu da sam ga čula kako diše, a ti znaš da ja slabije čujem, e toliko je bio blizu, i ja se malo pomerila i on krene da me ISPITUJE! Pitao me je koju kuhinju volim, ja kažem svoju, najlepša mi je, još se ja budala raspričala kako imam divne zelene zavese na prozorima, i on kaže kako nije na to mislio nego šta volim da jedem, a ja kažem kako šta, pa sve volim da jedem, jao u kakvoj bedi sam ja živela, sve se mora poštovati što imaš na stolu, a on me nekako čudno gleda manijački kao da će da me zakolje i krene da se smeje, manijak, ja sam se živa prepala, neku ženu zamolila da sedne pored mene, a on opet sve nešto, Mia on je mene hteo da opljačka, znam ja, da se raspita kakva mi je kuhinja, pa posle soba, da zna raspored u stanu, da samo dođe i pokrade me, ali ja sam na vreme shvatila, nije baba tvoja za bacanje. Neće mene neki deda da pokrade, samo da ga vidim, imam ja štap onaj moj, pa prebila bih ga samo da mi dođe. Moram za svaki slučaj da promenim lekara, a i ovoj kod koje idem smrdi iz usta. Jesi gladna?
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:08

Sulejman

Ne znam zašto ovo gledam. Uvek se sve isto događa. Pa do oktombara se neće ovde ništa promeniti. Vidi, vidi ti nju kao da je ona ceo harem, a nema ženo, pa on mora sa sto žena da bude, on je SULTAN kako ti nije jasno? A jeste lepa ova majka Sulejmanova, ih i ja bih bila lepa da sam rodila Sulejmana. Nekako mi je dobar baš ovaj glumac kao Sulejman, ali nije mi nešto ovako kad se skine. Šta ti je nisam ga videla golog, nego sam ovako mislila kad tu kapu od šlaga skine i te papuče turske. Prepelice jedu ove žene, šta prepelice, kao papagaja da jedeš. Ratluk i prepelice pa ja bih povratila. Ne, ja ovo moram da gledam to je istorijska serija, kako lepo peva ova Hurem, volim tu lulelele pesmu, romantična je. A volim i onu od Tošeta jednu kako ono ide. Jesi gladna?
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str8faith
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:09

Rekli su o Rijani

I ja ne znam zašto ona izgleda kao kurva. Pogledaj kako je sva pocepana. Ima li ta žena nešto čitavo da obuče? Mene bi bilo sramota, mnogo sramota da idem tako u pocepanoj odeći, ispranih boja. Važno da je cvet stavila u kosu. Džaba ti cvet kada se ne kupaš. I nemaš pribor za šivenje. Sprcala si milione u tu svoju guzicu a ne možeš da budeš uredna. Mia, da ti kažem ja nešto, ako mi dođeš ovako pocepana i prljava nekad, ovim rukama ću da te davim. Žena mora da vodi računa o higijeni, ne može to tako prljavo, pocepano i bahato da se izgleda. Koža jedne žene mora da bude kao ruža. Mekana, mirišljava i čista. Droga. Nemam drugo objašnjenje. Jesi gladna?
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sEhy-RXkNo0[/youtube]
Zadnja izmjena: str8faith, dana/u 23 lis 2012 19:14, ukupno mijenjano 1 put.
Bezi Jankec, bezi Jankec
cug ti bu pobegel

str8faith
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 19:09

24 sata san

-Koliko ti treba? , -Čega koliko mi treba? , videla sam kako u rukama drži ogromnu kesu punu novina. -Jesi li to sve dnevne novine kupila? , -Ne, još bolje, sve sam ih dobila. Pogledala sam malo bolje i videla gomilu gradskih novina, 24 sata. -Pa dobro ženo šta će ti to? , -Kako šta će mi, to su besplatne novine Mia, besplatno, znači ne moraš da platiš. , -Znam pobogu šta znači besplatno. Zanima me šta će ti gomila istih primeraka novina. , -Prvo ću sve da ih pročitam, sve, a onda ću da odem u podrum i da ih sve poslažem na police, onda ću da ih gledam i uživam, pa ću ih svaki dan skupljati, dok podrum ne pretvorim u trafiku, oduvek sam želela da imam trafiku. , -Ti u trafici, pa ti ideš u wc svakih 10 minuta, i ti bi da imaš trafiku. , -Mia, ja kada sanjam svoj san, u njemu je sve savršeno. To bi bar ti trebala da znaš. Jesi gladna?
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miss_misty
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la miss_misty » 23 lis 2012 21:26

@faith
mnogo mi je drago što znam čitati :D
i što ti znaš pisati
pozdrav babi kraljici
Napolju pada kiša. A kako se već pomalo spustilo veče, upalili smo sve moje i njene cigarete iz džepova i kofera, poslagali ih po nameštaju i rekli da su to zvezde.

¤¤¤problem s wc-autobusom je u tome što nikad ne znaš kad će se odvesti¤¤¤

str8faith
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Pridružen/a: 21 svi 2012 21:56
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Re: Priče

Post Postao/la str8faith » 23 lis 2012 21:30

miss_misty je napisao/la:@faith
mnogo mi je drago što znam čitati :D
i što ti znaš pisati
pozdrav babi kraljici
Jesi gladna?
Bezi Jankec, bezi Jankec
cug ti bu pobegel

Avatar
miss_misty
Postovi: 3383
Pridružen/a: 03 vel 2011 22:26
Lokacija: na samom rubu litice

Re: Priče

Post Postao/la miss_misty » 23 lis 2012 21:34

to baba iz tebe govori :D
Napolju pada kiša. A kako se već pomalo spustilo veče, upalili smo sve moje i njene cigarete iz džepova i kofera, poslagali ih po nameštaju i rekli da su to zvezde.

¤¤¤problem s wc-autobusom je u tome što nikad ne znaš kad će se odvesti¤¤¤

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