It was a hot, humid Sunday afternoon and for no particular reason we were wondering the streets like so many other aimless people. Senselessly burning fuel, heading no-where, in a hurry to return to our starting point via a destination not yet discovered.
Our lust for something different, some meaning was not yet satisfied, but with the sun sinking westward and the sea breeze surely closer. We punched home into the GPS and set our course for the quickest direction to recover the still waiting drudgery of the sameness in our existence.
We were on the home stretch with familiarity rapidly being painted to the tapestry scrolling around us. Negotiating space from the pee sized communal brain controlling the three four-wheel drives that must have been connected by an unseen string, taking two full lanes to do the work requiring one. We entered the round about, only wishing to make a quick left at the first exit in just a few meters. We rounded the curve, topped the hill and commenced the decent past houses and people who all knew where they were. On the left near the bus stop she was there, a goddess. Blonde hair collected to the back in a ponytail, blue-green singlet filled with the shapely form of youth-like femininity. Bottle blue working, short, short stubbies topping long slender legs with tips that vanish into heavy work boots, professionally adorned with folded down socks. A seductive combination of elegant independence, clearly displaying an unseen sign with ‘self-made, proud and no-bodies property’ written for all to see. A warning offered to all who possess the desire to own or covert.
Lady left the air-conditioning stream and dived for her open window, several snorts later she turned to me. Multiple puggs were hiding somewhere and she was much to slim; small portions would never suit us; the message was all over Lady’s face.
I watched as best I could, she was not alone; Victor was there, he was mature but could clearly still perform well. She held him firmly by barely visible handles above his pounding heart. Her fingers massaged and stroked him, pressing buttons in an effort to motivate every last morsel of his strength as they rolled back and forward. They moved together as one, they moved in opposing directions. Reinforcing the union as each re-couple melting them together again; they were always meant to be so. Their heated efforts visible for all to see; he made all the noise, puffing and grinding away, making every effort to please her. His piston plunging performance, desperate short grabs for air and constant puff of his steaming exhaust. Her fair skin displaying many small droplets from their fired coupling, a signature union in this physical ballad which continued unabated until their was nothing more for them to do.
His purpose served she silenced him and dispatched him to the garage to cool off, alone. She dropped to the step with a cool drink and surveyed her dominion, a lust for more still glowing through those wanting eyes.
I turned to Lady, she was correct. We had no place here no one was going to drive a wedge between this couple.
A contest entry
- THE MOD SQUAD CHALLENGE by Cyber Artist.
700 points, ended April 7, 2007, 32 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 16 of 16
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And who said a lawnmower couldn't be a fulfilling relationship.
Well what women probably don't understand is that guys like that kind of thing, and women in boots, and the whole power tool thing...yet, we're weird that way.
A nice twist, you lead us on one path only to deliver us on another.
A few possible typos, I know I like when people let me know about them. Line one, do you mean, "wandering?" Somewhere you write "covert" I wonder if you meant "covet?" There is a "to" in there somewhere in place of a "too" and a "their" where I think, "there" should be.
I especially like the opening two paragraphs with their elusive, ironic, facile language.
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I read this story at least 2 times before and can't figure why I didn't comment before.
I laughed when reading the first time, and laughed now again. You really knew how to bring the readers to a completely different thought of what the story was about.
I liked it, very creative, amusing and well written.
I enjoy your stories.
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So I have finally found the time to sit down and enjoy some of your work... My mind must be lazy this morning because after reading this the first time I couldn't figure out how it jumped from one thing to the next, so I took a few minutes to reread it. I'm so glad I read this a second time because it is really excellent. I do have to agree with the others--I absolutely loved the way the story bordered the erotic side. You are brilliant. Thank you for the great read. It is exactly what I needed this morning. Stay happy. Kia kaha, Rox
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Ms Rox, you are the kindest of the kind, thank you. The road detail is a little weird, but it was necessary so ‘Emmerson’ would identify the location and workout what (and who) it was about. (If you read her comment below she did). I’ll explain ‘Emmerson’ (formally ‘Aliana’ and I have never actually physically met but we live rather close to each other. I drive past her house on occasions (I recognized it one day from an image on a web page of hers), A few Sunday afternoons ago she was mowing the front lawn with Victor (Victa Lawn mowers are all the go in these parts -- we put a ‘h’ on the start of every word or an ‘or’ on the end, – it’s what makes us who we are; – that and it never snows here).
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Wattle,
I can see why you have a fan club. I'm part of it. I too like the way the stories border on the erotic and yet always remain on the bedsheet side of decency. Kudos to you for getting under this woman's skin. -
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Thank you Ms Kethry, you are very kind. Fan club, Me! One feels sorry for me, after shaking their head. The other is bored and looking for anything. ----
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lol this was very good and I think actually ppl can see this happening The best of luck to you in the contest.
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Thank you 'AmunKama' you are very kind.
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Simply SUPERB!
Why my dear wattle! You sly dog you!! LOL! How or why you refer to your writes as scribbles I'll never know...for if this is scribble, please here is my pen, my brain is your paper....scribble away dear sir. I do so like the way you hover on the edge of erotic. Its like you've written on the line with disappearing ink. You know it was there, you saw it, you felt it. But when all said and done there are the lines. You find yourself running your fingers on the lines wanting....(oh the wanting, the shifting in your seat wanting!) to recapture the feeling! The perfect "bedtime" story!
~Michelle~
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Thank you Michelle
I’m starting to worry about you Michelle (only a tiny bit). I’m worried what you will say/do in that bed when/if I am able to scribble something worthy. ---- ---- Ha – just for you I’ll expose myself further/fully. I only know three tricks; I cook bread, I make wine and I scribble. ---- Now I’m seeing: The subtle tones of perfume, a hint of black lace drifting from exposed shoulders to complement a slender neck. Warm lofts of hot bread on the air, two elegant wine glasses with half the second fill of Shiraz gone. Naked skin on soft satin and fingers wandering across distant scribble. (I’m sure there is something missing that I can’t quite touch). ----- Ha; thank you, Michelle you are the owner, and the making of fine lines.
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Why do I feel the need to read this after smoking a Jamaican hooches stick. Even the metaphors have metaphors but you gain points for getting a woman to mow the lawn and do it with out Mohork strips.. Look forward to the next two entries from you as three is need
Cyberartist
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Why thank you kind sir. I'm working on two more ideas for us to read.
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As usual, a delightful tale packed full of rich imagery and wonderful description. You have a way of pulling the reader in and making them a part of the story.
Thank you for entering and good luck with the contest. I look forward to reading your other two entries.
beginning: 4, language: 5, plot: 4, ending: 4, dialog: 4, characters: 3.
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Thank you Kind Ms Barbara. It is a special treat for me to have you say polite things about my attempts to write.
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Fantastic
LOL.. so why didnt you and Lady come and help??? After reading that, I will now look at my lawn mower in a totally different way. That was excellent and made me grin the whole way through.
Next time you must say hello, victor only looks menacing he's a pussy cat in reality.
LOL good job Sir Wattle
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Why thank you kind 'Lady of the Lake' - The last thing you'd need is several old fools interrupting you. --- But I'm impressed with the relationship I dreamed up.
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