Friday, July 22, 2005


After weeks of coaxing diplomatic enough to bring peace to the Middle East, if it had not been so selfishly applied, she still said no. It was the third glass of whiskey and soda, smuggled into her like sugar candy in a pack of birth control pills, that finally bared the camel's back, if the soft, revealed skin of a woman could ever remind anyone of a camel. He danced around her with the camera trying to capture breasts owning contours he had so often admired stretching the cotton tops she wore. But her top-heavy torso dragged her into a graceful spin, perpetually stumbling against something, hiding all the fleshiness he had hoped to immortalize digitally. If ever he did get an open shot at her the result was so blurred as to frustrate even a minute examination of the enlargement. All this gyroscopic rotation in pursuit of exposed breasts magnified the effects of whiskey and soda in the photographer's system. He became dizzy, wobbled in directions his feet wouldn't take him, and finally stumbled flat onto the floor, where he fell asleep. The girl caught herself on the door, pressed up close, adoring the feel of gentle wood on her tender skin and the sensation of blood circulating in whirlpools of excitement. She took up the camera, undressed her unconscious host, and continued to fill the camera's memory with male positions of appealing delicacy. As a souvenir for her photographer she left one picture of herself.

Story #253

10 comments:

calvin said...

Great photo and history!

Bilious Nkwezi said...

he uses his camera like a weapon, caught between the permanence of her image and the fleetingness of her smell, her touch. He is truly a digital man

Doug said...

I came up with a good story for this one. The first word is "Doug." I'm keeping the rest to myself.

Jamie Dawn said...

Won't he be surprised!
Next time, he just needs to take her to a European beach. A breast shot would most likely be easily attained there.

Alice: In Wonderland or Not said...

Visions emerge.
Nice one.

Cori said...

Well written indeed!

Personally- she could use a couple slices of cake on those absent hips of hers!

fluff said...

silly man, he'd have had it all had he sat down and still instead of popping around like a crazy cat. at least the door was happy, and maybe shared a little of her warm with him later on?

The Mushroom said...

"I hate it when that happens," he said when he woke up... Oh wait, that was me.

lefty said...

to see more photos of this hottie, fantastic.

Indeterminacy said...

Calvin: Thank you. I thought it was time to get a little risqué.

Bilious: It was so much easier before digital photography.

Doug: You can make up by contributing a weekend story. ;-)

Jamie: That reminds me. We haven't been to the Sea once this entire summer. *sigh*

Alice: Penny for your visions.

Cori: I miss American cake with layers and layers of icing. You can give the cake to me. I'm not judgemental about a lady's hips.

Ariel: At least he had the photo to remind him of her, and after he looked at the photo he might have brushed up against the door, given the right blend of sentimentality and kinkiness.

Mush: I'm sure you've found hundreds of photos like that.

Lefty: I don't have cause to disagree, sir.