2wo Hours Till Sunrise

This is my first attempt at writing anthing since highschool (over 19 yrs ago). Any criticism is greatly welcome. Good or bad. My email is glad2remember@yahoo.com

2wo Hours Till Sunrise

I stood under the microscope of her fluorescent kitchen lights and watched as my friendly conspirators vanished through the threshold from the kitchen to the living room. They said something to each other, giggled and beckoned me to join them where they were. My uncoordinated body numbly followed, as I hesitantly resigned myself to the mysterious potential of what was to transpire. Finding myself near the couch, I plummeted limply to its soft recesses. Still somewhat apprehensive, I tried further relaxing as I puttied myself to her couch and soon thereafter, overwhelming sensations enveloped me.

I felt like an automobile crash dummy quickly approaching its target until ultimately meshing with the cars twisting steel frame, plastic dash and concrete barrier slab. Only, I didn’t feel deceleration or pain on impact, but rather, grossly perverted heightened sensations. I felt as if I had unwittingly walked up to and into a large spider web, breaking its silky elastic threads of entanglement. But there was an added sensation, of after frantically ridding oneself of the saran wrap web, becoming wonderfully swallowed by the warmth and bubbles of a Jacuzzi.

My skin tingled and became warm. My palms moistened and I clinched them into fists several times, feeling them cool as air passed over them. My sense of touch livened and drew forth both curiosity and exhilaration. I explored the back sides of my front teeth and the roof of my mouth with my tongue and marveled in its exquisite texture and smoothness. My pupils dilated to the size of dimes, giving me vision of a nocturnal mammal. I was able to see fine contrasting patterns in the carpet fibers and wood furniture never before noticed. It was like wearing someone else’s nearsighted prescription eyeglasses that are too strong for you. My fascination of my enhanced sensations ebbed to the realization that I was not alone.

My eyesight, however acute, became distorted. I viewed my surroundings and received choppy, strobe-lit, disjointed images of a black and white TV show. I turned my head left to look at her and the TV images followed, until finally I was able to blink it free. I was told later, that my severely dilated pupils allowed extra light to my receptors in the rear of my eyes, which caused light reflections and perceived images in delayed order. She sat on the carpeted floor in front of me irradiated by the luminescent glow of the aquarium behind her. I glanced to my right, past the TV, to see her friend sitting with me on the couch. She leaned toward me and reached out. I felt the soft tendrils of her cool fingertips lightly tracing invisible spindled patterns up and down my right forearm. My hearing became acute with the thunderous pulsating of blood passing in my ear canals. I closed my eye lids but did not see the expected darkness. Instead I saw enhanced visions of her loveliness and felt my ever more acute sensory perceptions continue to grow. The barely audible ballads of familiar trusted voices crept through my ears and hovered in my head composing celestial music of spheres that only I was privy to hear. And so it began—my euphoria, my ecstasy.

As quickly as you can snap your fingers, I lost all my chips to comfort and became its slave. Comfort had not only come to play in this friendly game, it came to win. Cascading over my shoulders, comfort pinned me to the couch in grandeur fashion only to release me to the ring-leading whims of pleasure. Pleasure conspired with imagination and soon both puppeteered my senses. They were now my masters and I was commanded to party. [Note to self: Imagination parties relentlessly hard and likes to smash boundaries. May cause stupidity; take in small doses and in conjunction with logic. Pleasure may be armed and considered dangerous. Pleasure has been featured on People’s Most Wanted.]. Once they had control of my senses, pleasure sent me appreciation martinis and the party started rockin. Pleasure was on the prowl with my mind and body its playpen. This was an invite only party and I was the best dancer there.

My mind sped to first place as I approached the last hairpin curve. The track was an emotional and tricky course and behind me laid numerous scattered crashes. I approached the checkered flag and took 1st Place. My trophy was filled with elevated desires of pleasure. Pleasure pumped through my veins searching for her. Visions of her were reported near my eyes and pleasure arrived soon after. Pleasure voyeuristically observed her as she manicured her toes. I was frozen in puttied state. I was a deer in headlights--fearful of the looming impact of what was to occur.

I allowed myself to continue upon this bread-crumbed trail and explored my hidden thoughts, eyes closed, unshackling the always present bindings on my imagination. Every fabric of my imagination coupled with my senses melded. I sat there unable to move as my floodgates lifted and opened fully, releasing torrent flows of extreme passion and eroticism never before experienced as they washed over me. I floated to the surface, baptized, reborn and emanating my new religion. It humbled and crippled me, dropping me to my mental knees.

There was irony and travesty not to be shared; we weren’t sharing and holding these same sensations together for each other. Guilt approached screaming, “violation”, but acceptance and comfort prevailed. Pleasure skydived in, clad in a maestros outfit and was quickly ushered to center stage of this grand symphony. I watched intently as pleasure conducted my enhanced passion and sensations. I started to enjoy my new freedoms and took pleasure in itself--it was after all, my party.

I perceived sensations of magnetism, of nature’s forces drawing my resistant essence to her as she watched me from her spot on the floor. Feeling drawn to her in this manner was at first unwanted and questionable on my behalf. After years of knowing her, I had suppressed some of my romantic and lustful feelings and fine tuned my open behavior to fit our friendship. I was now uncomfortable because my own vulnerability to my personally imposed boundaries could be exposed and unfairly exploited. I questioned my motives for thinking and feeling as I did. I ensured myself it was just my euphoria and rationalized acceptance. With huge effort, I consciously put aside thoughts of reality and allowed myself relaxation, succumbing and ultimately plummeting to her gravity.

I approached my sensations and thoughts with the excessive indulgence of an addict. I knew that it was fleetingly inspired by consumption of euphoria and my resultant physiological responses. My yearning thoughts grew bolder and unadulterated. They encompassed every possible combination of exploring her body and mind and of what pleasures might be derived between us. The soles on imaginations shoes smoked and sputtered flames as it danced in frenzied anticipation. Sensory riots from my toes to my head erupted upward and outward like a Roman candle, ricocheting wildly inside the cramped prison shell of my body. Unchallenged, imagination grew like rampant vines, weaving it into rich larger-than-life creations, all the while, smothering tangent, rational and non-essential thoughts along the way. All these sensations leapt through me leaving me nearly breathless. There was that saying that if you love something, set it free. If it comes back then it will always be yours. I set my thoughts free, and surely they did return from the joyride on their own.

I compulsively became consumed with the single thought of having a shared experience of touching her, of tasting her, of listening to her heartbeat and breathing, of seeing her in her nudeness unabashed, of smelling her essence and sharing each other in our thoughts. I wanted to feel what she felt and conversely let her feel what I felt.

In this bliss, this fantasy, we experienced only happiness and the wonders of innocence. They manifested themselves in fantastic images and the perceived senses of joining with her on multiple levels. In my thoughts neither one of us spoke. There was no anger or fear, or judging. There was only radiating bliss in our actions and reactions to each other. We thought of the incredulously small and what used to be seemingly insignificant sensations and how they were now monumental pleasures. My desires and pleasures were acknowledged and reciprocated in her eyes. I saw in her facial expressions and body movements, protective mental walls falter and finally fall to rubble—her eyes glistened with peace and content.

My lungs expanded and hers contracted in unison as we exchanged life sustaining air slowly between our tender kisses. I smelt her erotic essence wafting from her hair and neck as I lightly caressed behind her ear with occasional nibbles and flicking of my tongue. Goose bumps speckled the back of her arms as I made long soft strokes using a feather, starting from her jaw line and traversing down to the small of her back. She crinkled her toes as I delicately placed almost unperceivable whispered kisses on her ankles and behind her knees. I felt the electricity created by the small hairs on the back of her neck becoming brisk as her body went limp with pleasure from my lips lightly pecking her ear. I pulled her close to me from behind, using my left arm across her breasts and draping my right hand down the front inside of her thigh. She relinquished pleasure to me and I to her in continuous unselfish flow of attention and titillation. I experienced her soothing touch as her fingers sifted and combed my hair away from my forehead. I knew my body and spirit were blissful to her, because I could feel what she felt through her touch and hear what she thought in her eyes and lips. I slightly bit her neck muscles and suckled the splendid flavor of salty perspiration, savoring it on my taste buds as that of a wine connoisseur that has discovered a rare vintage. She let forth an almost inaudible moan coming deep from her bosom as her eyes searched behind fluttering eyelids for the source of such ecstasy. We made love. It was the slowest of slow lovemaking. I elated in the warmth of her touch and endless pleasure derived between us. Throughout the duration of this fantasy we shared an untainted fusion of our mental and physical senses. We were both in ecstasy.

Time happened and early morning begat early sunrise, evaporating my world as baby-blue light probed gingerly into the house. She and I went to her back porch and watched the new day begin. The earth turned ever so steady, bringing us to face the greetings of the new day’s sun. Trees, buildings and hillsides were silhouetted in our gaze as we looked eastward. For a brief moment, we connected in thoughts as we both commented on how beautiful it was. I thought of what I had experienced earlier and tried to recapture some the faded experience. Unaware of my heavily weighted thoughts, she went inside her house and left me standing against the fence rail—alone.

I continued to stand under the sky, on her back porch as the sun shown brighter and brighter. The sky changed from baby blue to bright yellow and finally bright white where the sun rose. I thought of my fantasy, of how our shared rapture had been indescribably vivid, overflowing with erotic and sensual thoughts and sensations. Sluggishly, I could feel it cheapening and becoming hollow as previously suppressed reality kept poking its roots through my unfettered disposition.

Reality now oozed freely, cresting my imagination and opening its eyes--first one, then the other. Fighting against diminished sight, it blinked for moisture, until finally, peripheral vision returned and the haze that had been my imagined world evaporated. It stared at me with frigid intensity. I looked away, sightless and degraded. Devoid of my illusions, I scoured my surroundings for some semblance of my former wanderings…

Searching, I am searching. What’s that, ah—I found something! It was a box with my name on it. Perhaps a gift, contrived from the Gods. I liked gifts. Today would be a good day…

It scurried to me, for it had movement of its own, and I embraced it. My field of vision narrowed and I entered tunnel-vision pondering the gift contents. Behind me, an unknown woman beckoned for my attention and next to her sat a man with his legs crossed and a scowl on his face. Ominous, dark, foreboding clouds rolled in—I was oblivious to all but my gift.

In retrospect, had I known what I do now, I would have tried to smite my gift using all my natural and unnatural strength and fortitude. I would have tried to bury it in the deepest caverns beneath the deepest seas. If that did not work, I would have enlisted NASA’s help to send it to the recesses of unexplored space and after doing so, would've prayed to the heavens above that the gravitational draw of a black hole captured it. I would've prayed that the the hole drew it forth, sending it in a spiraled fashion inward to the confines of its own excessive mass.

If I had been attentive to my surroundings when I found the gift, I would have noticed the man and woman behind me. I would have recognized the woman as Pandora. I would have heard her say, “Heed my words! Do not joust lightly with my possessions nor tread innocently in the muddy aftermath of what would be gained—do not follow in my footsteps.” She had indeed spoken, but I was deaf to her words. She had tried to flag my attention, waving her arms frantically, but I was blind to her movements. She had tried to grab hold of my shoulder, yet I felt not her touch.

I would also have noticed, sitting next to her was not man, rather a Norse god. I would have recognized him as Loki, god of mischief. I’d have seen his scowl crack into a crazed ear-to-ear grin as I opened the gift. I would have felt and heard the thud of him falling to the ground in hysterical, shrilled, high-pitched tenor laughter as he held his stomach tightly with both hands. But I did not, for I was oblivious to all save my gift.

No time for the chastity of caution as I curiously and I quickly opened the gift. To my delight, it contained the sweet solace of memory. I stood there, brazenly basking in its pious glow. I now would remember my experience forever. [Note to Self: Memory does not come with clarity. Clarity sold separately]

With my memory intact, ensuring me of chronicled archives of what I had experienced on this day, I felt like I had become a crusading knight endowed with impenetrable armor, able to take on any dragon that would hold my experience hostage. Halleluiah. Praise be this armor called memory. This was a good day…

My anxiety of the possibility of forgetting my euphoria lessoned and relief nestled in. I recalled my experience over and over remembering all the otherworldly sensations and thoughts accompanying it. I wanted to dissect it to help me understand its meanings and relevance. When I was unable to explain external factors, I turned to self-reflection--and reflect I did.

For those two hours before sunrise, on the early morning after my birthday, I had seen her in my euphoric moment, pure and righteous in her being. Beautiful and pristine! Her every fault and splendors combined, made her perfect.

Hours later, I unearthed one slap-in-your-face question. How would it feel if my fantasy were real? Determined to answer this mystery, I set forth devising a strategy. I would attempt without hindrance, my quest for the Holy Grail. I wanted to know if those feelings and moments I had experienced, where actually a possibility given the right circumstances and timing. Wicked thoughts of rejection lingered and lurked in my shadows.

I devoted the following days trying to spend as much time as possible with her and resolve my questionable dilemma. I looked for hints in her behavior and when I found none, in a moment as awkward and one could have, I candidly proposed the idea of escalating our friendship to something more.

The outcome? Rejection. I felt like and fool and after feeling this way, resented myself to the point of doing and saying things to her that might have blemished her opinions of me or worse, destroyed a very dear and special friendship. I reiterate: a very dear and special friendship. A friendship which had grown over years based on respect and trust.

Damn you Loki…

OK, I cut a bunch of the hokey stuff out (the penthouse forum section and escapade dealing with finding my memory). I also removed a bunch of "I"'s. Is this a bit more digestable? I haven't read your recommendations and will be sure to find them now. Thanks.

2wo Hours Till Sunrise

I stood under the microscope of her fluorescent kitchen lights and watched as my friendly conspirators vanished through the threshold from the kitchen to the living room. They said something to each other, giggled and beckoned me to join them where they were. My uncoordinated body numbly followed, hesitantly resigning me to the mysterious potential of what was to transpire. Finding myself near the couch, I plummeted limply to its soft recesses. Still somewhat apprehensive, trying desperately to will myself relaxation, I puttied myself to her couch and soon thereafter, overwhelming sensations enveloped me.

Have you ever seen those crash tests performed on automobiles for safety ratings? That was me, the crash test dummy behind the wheel, accelerating towards the reinforced concrete slab, bracing for impact pain and the ultimate meshing with the cars twisting steel frame and plastic dash. Three--two—one…impact. Hmmm. Not what I’d expected. No feelings of deceleration or pain, but rather, it felt like unwittingly running into and becoming ensnarled in a large spider web. Getting mired in silky saran wrap threads of entanglement is not a feeling one wishes to endure. So you fight. You fight for your freedom.

Strange. Entanglement mutated to wonderful grossly perverted sensations of physical awareness one has when stepping gingerly down the steps of a waiting Jacuzzi. Your body slowly acclimating to the excessive heat, until finally, immersed to the hipline, one holds their breath and submerges wholly beneath the swirling currents and bubbles, to be swallowed in the warmth.

My skin tingled and became warm. My palms moistened. I clinched them into fists several times, feeling them cool as air passed over them. My sense of touch livened and drew forth both curiosity and exhilaration. My roving tongue explored the back sides of my front teeth and the roof of my mouth marveling in its exquisite texture and smoothness. My pupils dilated to the size of dimes, giving me vision of a nocturnal mammal, able to see fine contrasting patterns in the carpet fibers and wood furniture never before noticed. It was like wearing someone else’s nearsighted prescription eyeglasses that are too strong for you. My fascination of my enhanced sensations ebbed to the realization that I was not alone.

My eyesight, however acute, became distorted. I viewed my surroundings and received choppy, strobe-lit, disjointed images of a black and white TV show. Turning my head left to look at her, the TV images followed, until finally blinking them free. I was told later, that my severely dilated pupils allowed extra light to my receptors in the rear of my eyes, which caused light reflections and perceived images in delayed order. She sat on the carpeted floor in front of me irradiated by the luminescent glow of the aquarium behind her. Glancing to my right, past the TV, her friend sat with me on the couch. She leaned toward me and reached out. I felt the soft tendrils of her cool fingertips lightly tracing invisible spindled patterns up and down my right forearm. My hearing became acute with the thunderous pulsating of blood passing in my ear canals. Closing my eye lids did not bring expected darkness. Instead, enhanced visions remained of her loveliness and continued to grow. The barely audible ballads of familiar trusted voices crept through my ears and hovered in my head composing celestial music of spheres that only I was privy to hear. And so it began—my euphoria, my ecstasy.

Comfort arrived and stayed awhile, joining in on my game. Comfort not only came to play, it came to win, and it didn’t take long before losing all my chips. Cascading over my shoulders, comfort pinned my boneless body to the couch in grandeur fashion, and tried to collect my IOU’s. I had nothing left to give (or so I’d thought), so comfort put me up for sale. Comfort did a fine marketing campaign which attracting pleasure. A deal was struck and if truth be told, slaving for the whims of pleasure was, well, pleasurable. [Note to Self: Pleasure may be armed and considered dangerous. Pleasure has been featured on People’s Most Wanted]

Sitting, no, blobbing myself to my friends couch had been relaxing, but now that pleasure was involved, everything took on a new meaning. The thing about pleasure is, once one has it, it can become boring, almost redundant. Like an adrenaline junky, one will continuously scout for more thrills that will top the previous one. Sitting there, all my awe at what was previously and still continuously being experienced became a stagnant pool of dysfunctional reflection.

Pleasure would have none of that and so, conspired with imagination (imagination—now there was a long lost friend). Both puppeteered my senses, as my masters, commanded me to party. [Note to self: Imagination parties relentlessly hard and likes to smash boundaries. May cause stupidity; take in small doses and in conjunction with logic.]. Once they had control of my senses, pleasure sent me appreciation martinis and the party started rockin. Pleasure and imagination were on the prowl racing for further satisfaction; my mind and body their playpen.

My mind sped to first place approaching the last hairpin curve. My track was an emotional and tricky course and behind me laid numerous emotional scattered crashes. Coming out of the curve, entering the straightway, the checkered flag was now visible and waited impatiently. Guilt was making its move, slinging out of the turn bearing down on me on my right side. Guilt came up fast and bumped me to the guardrail; smoke permeated my head. I shoved back. My mind slid sideways in front of guilt a mere distance from the finish line. If guilt broke free from our carnage, it would win, but to the chagrin of guilt, it pushed me the remaining length to 1st Place. Applause and celebration followed. I ceremoniously accepted my trophy of elevated pleasure with the corks of imagination popping and spewing forth desire.

Desire coursed through my veins searching for her. Visions of her were pleasurably reported near my eyes. It didn’t take long for desire to arrive, set-up camp and join pleasure and imagination. All three huddled together with her as their campfire, voyeuristically, observing her as she manicured her toes. My thoughts of her escalated from pleasures of loveliness, to imaginations of a spiritual and physical encounter, and to the desires derived from such a fantasy.

In slow motion, she looked up towards me. I had been thinking too loud and she heard me! Our eyes locked. She froze me in my fantasy state. To see me from her eyes--I must’ve had the same fearful look of a deer in headlights--fearful of the looming impact of what was to occur.

She looked at me indifferently, and so I thought, everything was fine. She went back to manicuring her toenails. My secret was not revealed, and with that knowledge reluctantly allowed desire to continue upon its bread-crumbed trail and explore my hidden thoughts.

I closed my eyes again, unshackling the always present bindings on my imagination. Every fabric of my imagination coupled with my senses melded. The floodgates of desire lifted and opened fully, releasing torrent flows of extreme passion and eroticism never before experienced. They washed over me, baptizing me in their wake. My new religion of desire emanated from my soul, humbling me, crippling me, dropping me to my mental knees.

There was irony and travesty not to be shared; we weren’t sharing and holding these same sensations together for each other. Guilt approached screaming, “violation”, but acceptance and comfort prevailed. Pleasure skydived in, clad in a maestros outfit and was quickly ushered to center stage of this grand symphony. It conducted my imagination and desires to new levels. I started to enjoy my new freedoms and took pleasure in desire--it was after all, my party.

She again looked up, oh so briefly, from her spot on the floor and to look upon her was to perceive sensations of magnetism, of nature’s forces drawing my resistant essence to her. Feeling drawn to her in this manner was at first unwanted and questionable on my behalf. After years of knowing her, sometimes suppressing romantic and lustful feelings, fine tuning my open behavior to fit our friendship, my imposed boundaries were exposed and uncomfortably vulnerable. Rationalized acceptance prevailed after assuring myself that my thoughts and feelings were fleetingly inspired by consumption of euphoria and my resultant physiological responses. With huge effort and relaxation, I consciously put aside reality, succumbing again to my euphoria and plummeted to her gravity.

I approached my sensations and thoughts with the excessive indulgence of an addict. My yearning thoughts grew bolder and unadulterated. They encompassed every possible combination of exploring her body and mind and of what pleasures might be derived between us. This was an invite only party and imagination was the best dancer there. The soles on its shoes smoked and sputtered flames as it danced in frenzied anticipation. Sensory riots from my toes to my head erupted upward and outward like a Roman candle, ricocheting wildly inside the cramped prison shell of my body. Unchallenged, imagination grew like rampant vines, weaving it into rich larger-than-life creations, all the while, smothering tangent, rational and non-essential thoughts along the way. All these sensations leapt through me leaving me nearly breathless. There was that saying that if you love something, set it free. If it comes back then it will always be yours. I set my thoughts free, and surely they did return from the joyride on their own.

My senses and mind ached compulsively for a shared experience her. I wanted oh so badly to touch her skin, taste her lips, and listen to her heartbeat and breathing; to see her in her nudeness unabashed; to smell her hair. I wanted to feel what she felt and conversely let her feel what I felt; to share our thoughts without speaking. I wanted to love and be loved.

No reality there, so I made my own. In this bliss, my fantasy, we experienced only happiness and the wonders of innocence. They manifested themselves in fantastic images and the perceived senses of joining with her on multiple levels. In my thoughts neither one of us spoke. There was no anger or fear, or judging. There was only radiating bliss in our actions and reactions to each other. We thought of the incredulously small and what used to be seemingly insignificant sensations and how they were now monumental pleasures. My desires and pleasures were acknowledged and reciprocated in her eyes. I saw in her facial expressions and body movements, protective mental walls falter and finally fall to rubble—her eyes glistened with peace and content.

Time happened and early morning begat early sunrise, evaporating my world as baby-blue light probed gingerly into the house. With her friend asleep, on the couch, she and I went to her back porch and watched the new day begin. The earth turned ever so steady, bringing us to face the greetings of the new day’s sun. Trees, buildings and hillsides were silhouetted in our gaze as we looked eastward. For a brief moment, we connected in thoughts as we both commented on how beautiful it was. I thought of what I had experienced earlier and tried to recapture some the faded experience. Unaware of my heavily weighted thoughts, she went inside her house and left me standing against the fence rail—alone.

I continued to stand under the sky, on her back porch as the sun shown brighter and brighter. The sky changed from baby blue to bright yellow and finally bright white where the sun rose. I thought of my fantasy, of how our shared rapture had been indescribably vivid, overflowing with erotic and sensual thoughts and sensations. Sluggishly, I could feel it cheapening and becoming hollow as previously suppressed reality kept poking its roots through my unfettered disposition.

Reality now oozed freely, cresting my imagination and opening its eyes--first one, then the other. Fighting against diminished sight, it blinked for moisture, until finally, peripheral vision returned and the haze that had been my imagined world evaporated. It stared at me with frigid intensity. I looked away, sightless and degraded. Devoid of my illusions, I scoured my surroundings for some semblance of my former wanderings…

When I see her now, I do not carry the same passions I had experienced that morning. For those two hours before sunrise, on the early morning after my birthday, I had seen her pure and righteous in her being. Beautiful and pristine! Her every fault and splendors combined made her perfect.

Somewhere, deep inside me, I am waiting to reveal my passions again, maybe not with her, but this time for real.