Lucrezia Magazine | Erotica, Art and Sexuality

Shutting the door behind her, Michelle asked, “Are we really going to do this?”

“Yes,” Jack breathed into her ear, warm and damp, locking it behind her, “we are.”

They hung suspended, still, in silence and the aroma of old grease and sawdust. The moment of vocal decision became a catalyst. Clothing was hurriedly removed and cast aside. The path to the nearest horizontal surface, the cool metal hood of the family sedan, was quickly crossed. Hands were desperate in the exploration of nakedness, lips frantic in the need for emotional validation. Permission given to freely take and appreciate passion that had previously only been stolen in bits and pieces of secret, longing stares made Michelle and Jack oblivious to anything but wantonness.

Jack needed to possess her; Michelle needed to be desired above all others. These were needs independent of their spouses, had nothing to do with their children. This was primal and animalistic and entirely too human. Once, Michelle promised herself as she felt Jack position himself above her body, once would prove he loves me best. I just need to know, she thought. Jack had similar thoughts, as he pushed into Michelle’s soft warmth. Once, and she will be mine; once, and she will never need any other man. It will be me, and only me.

Coupling furiously, aware of the imminent danger of location, time, and proximity, neither could hold off the explosive ending for long. In the sweat-drenched aftermath, limbs entwined and hearts racing, senses flooding, the words he longed to say and she longed to hear lay unspoken between them. Jack pulled away first, rising and gathering their clothing. Handing hers to her in a bundle, he turned away to dress, giving her some modesty. Neither spoke.

The scrape of someone turning the door handle startled them. Keeping his eyes on Michelle, making sure she had gotten herself appropriately together before speaking, he called, “Is that door locked? Let me get it for you.” Jack waited until Michelle nodded to give him permission before letting Bill in.

“You’re out of the good beer up there, Jack,” Bill chuckled, knowing the way to the spare garage fridge quite well, where he pulled out a couple to take back with him. Bill handed them both some beer to each take up, a usual, everyday gesture that broke the magic of the moment for Jack.

“We’d best take up a bit, save ourselves a few more trips.”

Michelle agreed, looking over Bill’s bent back at Jack, and accepted the bottles. Trailing behind Bill, robbed of any private moments for closure or reassurance, Michelle forced a happy look onto her face. As the three of them emerged from the basement entrance into the noisy and full living room, empty hands reached for the beer. Michelle mingled with the rest of the partygoers, the sea of people keeping her and Jack as far apart as wedding vows had before tonight. The only difference was that now, a slick wetness dripping down her thighs and some uncomfortable scrapes across her shoulder blade reminded her of just what she could have, how loved she could be, at least for a few moments.

© 2008 Lillian Ridgeway

Lillian Ridgeway is a thirty-something native Philadelphian, married with two young children. She is also an urban high school teacher, with degrees in English Literature, History, and Education. An avid sci-fi and detective/mystery genre fan, she has been writing since she was a teenager. Lillian has "published" over thirty fan fiction stories in the Whedon, Plum, and Battlestar Galactica universes, as well as an original story (Playing Doctor) onThe Indite Circle (www.inditecircle.com.)

She expects to publish her first original erotica novella later this year with Dark Roast Press (www.darkroastpress.com), and recently won first place for poetry at the Philadelphia Writer's Conference (2008.) She also maintains a weekly blog about motherhood, teaching, and the writing life under her fanfiction pen name, http://ptbvisiongrrl.livejournal.com, and an author's website, www.lillianridgeway.net.