Archive

Archive for February, 2014

Tales From Little Lump is Listed in Publisher’s Weekly

February 20, 2014 Leave a comment

Tales From Little Lump: Alien Season is listed in the latest issue of Publisher’s Weekly. PW_Picture

Advertisements

Free Kindle eBook copy available today on Amazon

February 17, 2014 Leave a comment

ImageFree copy of Low Tech is available today for Presidents Day on Amazon. 

 

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I1QOQKU/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_dp_qgLatb07FETN3

Intellectual Curiosity

February 12, 2014 Leave a comment

What started off as an intellectual curiosity for Christine and I. Ended up with her on kitchen counter, with me holding on to her thighs, and pumping away with bedroommy pants around my ankles.

Neither of us knew how we got here, nor were we willing to stop. Like a dare that had gone too far, both of us were slaves to the moment we created.

As I climaxed and my body convulsed, I quickly leaned against her so I could let go of her legs and put my arms around her. Giving her enough time to steady herself, so she didn’t fall forward, taking both of us down to the kitchen floor.

“You know, my bed would have been more comfortable.” Christine uttered out, still trying to catch her breath.

“I didn’t want to take a chance you would change your mind.” I responded back, equally winded.

We both laughed a little, although I’m not really sure why my answer seemed so important at the time. It’s not like we had planned for this, or even wanted it to happen for that matter. If either of us would have stopped ourselves from going that step further. I’m sure both of us would have been fine and all of our talks which led us to this moment would have just remained nothing more than another intellectual curiosity.

But by the time I was on my knees, with my head under her skirt, furiously working away, and heard her shout out, “Oh god, I want you in me!” It seemed like everything had to happen right then and there. So without thinking I dropped my pants, hiked up her skirt, lifted her up against the kitchen counter, and slid myself into her. We ended up both surprising each other. She with my ability to lift her up in the first place, and I with her ability to hold herself there while I thruste away at her, like a man possessed.

Christine grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser located above her sink, and put it between her legs. In an attempt to stop the flow of juices I had left in her from running down her leg.

“Well I guess that’s the end of this skirt.” She said as she got herself off the counter. She gave me a slight smile as she waddled past me to her bathroom down the hall.

I grabbed a paper towel and cleaned myself off before pulling my pants back up. I threw the paper towel in the trash and grabbed the bottle of red wine. I gave out a little laugh remembering that was the reason we went into the kitchen in the first place. I grabbed the wine glass I had left on the coffee table and sat down on the couch pouring myself a glass as I waited for Christine to return.

I was halfway through it before she reappeared in a new outfit. Obviously something she grabbed really quickly, as the fabric looked a little more wrinkled then a fresh outfit should. Possibly something she was getting ready to wash.

“So remind me what were we talking about before?” She asked as she grabbed the bottle and poured herself a glass.

“The state of modern relationships in America and how they should be portrayed in literature.”

“Ah, yes, that’s right. Well, like I was saying before. I don’t think they’re portrayed very accurately. Take what we just did for instance. I would venture to say that’s how most men and women get together these days. A few glasses of wine, a touch, kissing, eventually one thing led to another and here we are now, having another glass of wine and pleasant conversation afterwards. To me, that feels right, almost down right perfect if you ask me; and I don’t know why authors now and days feel like they have to romanticize something like that? I mean in this day and age does anyone even still believe in those over embellished romantic narratives?”

“I don’t know if they truly believe it, but they probably want to. It’s probably the whole reason those books have remained so popular for so long.” I replied, not taking any offense to Christine trivializing what we just did. I quickly learned a while back that she just has a way of being very blunt when she talks to you. This has led to a lot of people believing she’s a rude bitch, but I’ve always found it rather refreshing. Knowing that you always knew where you stood with her. This is one of the reasons that we’ve remained friends for so long.

“Damn it, I really wish we would have used my bed.” Christine said while looking at the palm of her free hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I got a splinter. Probably from underneath the counter I was holding on to.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Oh, don’t be, but next time let’s just take the extra couple of minutes and go into my bedroom.”

“So,” I said, pausing a couple of moments before continuing. “They’ll be a next time?”

“Oh, well-,” she stopped, not really knowing how to respond, and suddenly the boldness that we had been feeling up until that point seemed to have left the room. All the intellectual talks and bold declarative statements we were spouting off earlier that led to us having sex and now we were just staring at each other not knowing what to say.

It was very embarrassing for a couple of self professed intellectuals. Seeing that it was a simple enough question, and one we should have been able to answer, but at that moment, it was a question that neither of us knew how to answer.

I mean don’t get me wrong, I like Christine well enough, but we’d always just been friends. That’s the way it had always been, and that had been fine by both of us. This was new territory though, and we were just now realizing it. It was one thing to be in the moment, but how does one act once that moments is over?

So now we both just stared at each other, paralyzed by the unknown possibilities that the future held. Had the spirited debate and intellectual curiosity that led us down this road, somehow taken that turn, where we found ourselves past friendship, and now at the beginnings of a romantic relationship? And were we ready for that kind of a transition?

I suddenly wondered where those brave souls from before had gone off to? Where talks about causal interludes, and spontaneity led to them touching just to demonstrate a point they were trying to make. Which eventually led to them having sex in the kitchen? Where had those adventurous spirits gone indeed?

“I guess I hadn’t thought about that.” Christine finally concluded.

I heard somewhere that silence can be the most addictive drug of all, and at that point I believed it. As I sat there in silence wondering what to say. I quickly finished the rest of the wine in my glass. If for no other reason than to buy some time.

“Well, this is certainly awkward.” I finally said, trying to add a little levity to the situation.

I realized I had failed miserably when Christine had gotten up from the couch, and started walking off saying, “I’m sorry, it was a slip of the tongue. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Maybe we should just call it a night?”

“Wait a minute,” I said as I got up and caught her before she could get too far away. “You just can’t start a conversation like this and then walk away.” As she turned towards me, I saw that she was starting to cry.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made light of the situation.” I said apologizing for my presumed insensitivity. “It’s just a stupid defense mechanism that I have when dealing with stressful situations like this. Please stop crying.”

“I just wish we would have ended up in my bedroom, that’s all. Then maybe we would have just fallen asleep and dealt with this all afterwards.” She said while wiping the tears from her eyes. She then looked at her hands and noticed black smears on them. “Great,” she cried out. “I must look like shit now?”

As I looked into her eyes and saw streaks of black running down her cheeks, I leaned in and kissed her. I couldn’t tell you why, but what she described as shit, looked beautiful to me at that moment.

There was a certain vulnerability to her that I had never seen before. That made me just want to reach out and kiss her. To let her know that everything was going to be alright.

She was absolutely beautiful to me in that imperfect moment.

“What are we doing?” She asked while looking at me.

“I don’t know. Do you want me to stop?” I asked while smiling at her.

She smiled back as she leaned in and took ahold of me, and we just stood there awhile hugging each other. It was at that moment I think we both realized that all the time we had spent together. Drinking and having conversations, that inevitably led to us talking about our personal lives and telling each other things we’ve never told anyone else. It was only now becoming clear that we had already been in a relationship for awhile. The intellectual curiosity that we had given into was just our way of consummating it.

It was a surprisingly very romantic notion for a couple of intellectuals, but at this moment, it was one that neither of us minded.

“Now,” Christine said, smiling up at me. “I would really very much like for us to go into my bedroom and spend the night together.”

We kissed again and headed to her bedroom.

I laughed as we headed down the hallway thinking, some intellectuals we turned out to be. Although there would be no big narratives involved. All of this would be remembered as a very romantic moment. You know, for something that was suppose to be nothing more than an intellectual curiosity that is.

 

THE END