the salty air – WIP…

spoon.

that’s how this one starts… spooning this gorgeous olive-skinned beauty, my left arm pinned under her slender neck. an ornate glyph-like tattoo on the back of her neck (a bridal tattoo?)… i’m facing the back of her head and she’s fast asleep, tired from an exciting night out. the details are fuzzy (was i drunk?) but i know i had fun too. that ache in my crotch… yeah, i definitely had fun. my stomach grumbles and i’m inspired to leave the bed and fix some grub. my arm is completely asleep too; i can move my fingers but i can’t quite feel them. i slip my arm from under her, careful not to wake her, while simultaneously easing my pillow to take its place.

finally free, i roll out of the bed and stretch; there’s a warm golden light pouring through an enormous ceiling to floor sliding glass door. beyond the wooden deck and railing past it, a vast expanse of water. the sun reflects harshly off the surface and hurts my eyes, but it’s hard to turn away from the spectacle. then it hits me: this isn’t the rising sun, this sun is setting! have we been asleep the entire day? massaging the blood back into my arm i walk out the door and breathe in deep… salty air fills my lungs. this isn’t my place; i couldn’t afford a house like this. it seems as though the house is actually in the middle of the ocean. what a ridiculous thought. a house in the middle of the ocean… houses don’t sit motionless on water…

i step back inside and take another look at her: long, straight, black hair, thick eyebrows and dark skin. she seems to glow a glorious golden colour in the evening sun. full lips just slightly parted, i can barely make out her front teeth. tracing her length with my eyes, i follow her form down. sleeveless white vest. she doesn’t wear a bra and i can make out the details of her bosom through the fabric. she’s not terribly stacked. her breasts are modest. she has strange crisscrossed glyphs tattooed on her upper arms, and silver and gold rings on her fingers. i check for the most important one… a naked finger… i sigh with relief inside my head. her mid-section is covered by the bed sheets, but not too much for me to notice she’s wearing white cotton boyshorts… they enhance the appearance of her stem-like legs. tiny toes (very edible) ‘decorated’ with silver rings complete the tour of her form. what’s this goddess’s name? something with a N, or L… or maybe an A… i can’t remember. maybe i should find a wallet so i kno….. my stomach grumbles again… i’ll play detective later.

there’s a door to my right and i head for it on tip-toes… i step out of the bedroom into a very dark hallway. it seems that all that light in the room came from the open door. light at the end of the ‘tunnel’… i follow with my arms akimbo. the wall feels textured, but i can’t quite make out the details. it feels like papyrus or something similar… on the way i meet a door on my right. i fish for a handle and try it. it opens to a bathroom with a toilet and bidet. it’s all porcelain-like. the room is clinically white but at the same time very inviting. stepping in further i notice that golden glow again to my right. the bathroom is connected to the bedroom. i peer in to see her still asleep. she’s barely moved a muscle. must have indeed been a great night. i relieve myself, wash up and head out again, continuing down the corridor towards the source of the light.

the kitchen, finally. i stumble while entering the sunken room. more white walls and porcelain accents. she has all her pots hanging overhead. counter-top stove, dishwasher (is she lazy?), tall but skinny refrigerator… i head to that first. let’s see here: chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, chèvre cheese, liverwurst, yogurt, foreign beer, sauvignon blanc (remember for later), something that looks like game hen, wine with a name probably no one can pronounce, and a door littered with jars of random condiments. this girl has expensive taste. hmm, creamed honey. i could do something with that. grab the heavy cream for tea, maybe the palm sugar. i dump them on the counter and examine the counters. a loaf of bread, a healthy looking orange, a lemon to wedge for the tea, a jar of ground coffee… guess the tea plan is off… ah! tea. Yellow Label, she’s into classics. alright, let’s get this going.