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Unconditionally
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Evita's Tale Flores
Laughter and love. Could anything more be a reason to live? Celeste’s joy bounces against tiled walls and over the sound of sizzling oils and busy machines, "I'm just saying, you move too much to sit for me." Trapping her body between the counter my eyes run over her full cheeks and doe eyes, settling on lips chapped by conversation and breathlessness, "I am a grown woman, I can sit still you know. Plus, you can put me in any position you want." Her composure shifts as her body shuffled between my cage. Her focus runs from my fallen gaze to my lips when she runs her tongue over her own, "You defiantly won’t sit still then." Fire, she teased it with a flutter of her lashes and the gloss of her smile over the carnage she could create. For the first time, I imagined it and tasted it. Her submission as she was brought down to her knees by her own actions, "I wonder..." My hands, once gripping the marble of the island, hold her under their touch, the feeling of her shuffles and tension as
Evita's Tale Deserve
Coming to work, my worry over what could have kept Tori from the place she loved was at an all-time high. My quick thanks towards Harold ended with a rush around and into the store with fingers running the scarf over my head while I looked around. When I see Tori, the exhaustion under her eyes makes me rush towards her before wrapping her in my arms. Her body sinks into mine as her arms wrap around my waist "I'm so tired." She exhales into my shoulder. She gives me a last squeeze of a hug before stepping out from my arms, her hands wrapping themselves around her. Bringing her to one of the reading tables, I sit her down, my hands around hers in support "Is everything okay?" Her shoulders slump in the defeat of what she was going through before she explains, “My sister, she didn’t handle the move to varsity well, started hanging out with this awful crew. I use to grill her on why she wasn't answering calls, but then she went missing. When I found her, I almost asked if she knew my si
Evita's Tale Memories
He is just as attentive in his touch of us as we wash off his day, and Celeste follows under the warmth and attention of those who cherish her. The discovery of her ticklish side fills the space with her giggle. When we turn to Master he is stepping closer to us, the daunting sight welcomed when we don’t move. His fingers run across the collar of our necks when the soft touch becomes heavy.With a gentle push, we are moved, having our backs against the cold tiled wall. He stares us both down from his height with nostalgia, "I have spent days missing how you both feel." Stepping closer, he grips a little tighter, but not as hard as he would have had we not been in the shower "How you sound, and taste. Be good and hold my shoulders." His words directed to us both, so I brought my arm to his should, running against Celeste’s. His hold on our necks begins to descend, tracing my body before he runs his tub over my exposed nipple, the shower had left them stiff, and so when he brings his
Evita's Tale Wishes
Could you ever make a wish with open eyes and surprised hands because you knew your wish would come true? Something fairy-tale-like that was within your reach, and all you had to do was take it in your hands. Between fallen lashes and single cupcakes with a flickering candle, my wishes had always been with closed eyes because I knew they were as fickle as the breath needed to blow them away. Looking at the pamphlets and files in front of me, those wishes. The ones I had made behind closed eyes presented themselves in the day. I stood from my chair, the wooden frame balancing me as I looked over the details that came with requirements for admission, registration terms and conditions, fees, and the courses and classes all sat in different piles. After a night of tossing and turning, I decided to start my morning before the sun. The scent of lilacs surrounded me as I looked back to the closed door, leaving me with the memory of the bed I had left. Even steaming water left me cold when
Evita's Tale Cross
When I enter the penthouse, I am a little later than usual after taking a slight detour. Not only did I need a walk to clear my head, but I also knew only one man I deemed worthy enough for the job. I note the silence, the lack of chatter or the occasional singing that serenaded the art when she was happy. Master's soft scent, a note I realised was the result of showers he took from the gym, was also missing. Coming to that conclusion. I leave my bag on the table near the couch before heading upstairs. I note the soft dampness of a hot shower, so I go over to the closet. Using the original door, I walk into the room, and it is on the right section. The lighting is strong against the blues and greens of the closet. Standing across from a large landscape mirror, I looked at a mirage. I leave my heels at the door, giving myself a moment as I looked over her slim fingers bringing oil to her skin, running her hands by her calves to her thighs. I watched her caress the body I considered
Evita's Tale Cinnamon
The raft is plush, unable to carry my thrashing body through the rise and crash of waves intent on dragging me under. Heavy winds and unkind skies throw vicious tantrums as flashes of lightning flicker through the moments between choking on waters and trying to stay afloat. Every intention of yelling for help gulped down with sandy water while my hope began to succumb like the raft that barely held me up. Looking around me, rising waves and heavy rain pelts on my skin. Left and right, I see nothing. Despite my eyes turning back when I see it, the water, unlike the waves that crash against me. The waters are slow and calm and ripple softly against the line between the chaotic hurricane I was in. Gone is the attempt at screaming for help when the calm water turns into a thick river of red that held the back of the plush raft. Its strength has me whipping my head back into the hurricane, “PLEASE!!” I hear through the crashing waters, only the voice is a chill echo behind me, unkind as it
Evita's Tale Lifes torment
“That's why you bought this?” Confused, he reaches beside him, hidden in the shadow of his body, he pulls out a book. Black leather, its cover pressed under tense fingers before two hands hold it like an archaeological find. He runs his fingers over the gold letter stamping, the perfectly centred A. S. M. When purchasing and stamping the book, all I thought was how it would be amazing, but all I ended up thinking was if the thought of dancing shattered my soul would I want someone to bring me to a stage. Was I gifting his place to create nothing but the icy cold he left me with when I spoke of the piano? He looks down at it, letting the light dance across the letters, turning back to me. His breath runs past open lips, eyes sunken, and brows lifted, “How…did you?” His hold on the book is still firm, almost like he feared holding it loose enough that the pages would burst open, but he continued, “Your bag was on the couch when I sat. I pulled it from under me, and this fell out. Why d
Evita's Tale Passionate
I am stunned awake once again. The short breath knocked my eyes open as I held onto Celeste’s arm in sudden reflex. I’m here. I'm on the raft. I am not drowning. The tense state of my body makes me turn over to the warmth of the body next to me. Her soft features were still in slumber, lips softly parted from her lips and lashes brushing agent her skin, in a moment I could deem priceless. Her hands held onto Angel's arm, leaning into him with a familiar mould. Celeste's dress sat sparingly on her body, chest plush and pressed against the soft grey of the nightshirt. His hold on her was possessive, across her, but no more possessive than the repercussions of his teasing nature towards the woman in his arms. You would think most of the marks that litter against her skin would be when she was under him, weathering and pleading, but he liked to taunt her. With soft whispers and the exposure of her skin, all too welcoming to his attention. The one to the bottom of her neck was bold, u
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