Tag Archive | True Love

The Forbidden Romance

Artist of the week, Mort Kunstler; pinterest.com

Ours was a forbidden romance. As a spy on her people, I would have been killed if I had had been caught by the tribal leaders. But I also would not have been welcomed back to my own camp if I had been caught fraternizing with the enemy’s women.

Our first encounter was in the jungle. She was half naked, her breasts like smooth, satiny melons, and she wore a simple fabric wrapped around her waist revealing deliciously shapely thighs and hips. At first, I startled her, but gave her gifts – small trinkets from home. Each day I would meet her there, giving her a new gift, building trust. Soon her eyes sparkled when we met, and we fell in love. The first time we were naked together, we stood in the forest, curiously appraising one another, absorbing our beautiful differences and enjoying the view. Before long, arousal overtook curiosity and we savagely made love like jungle beasts, hooting and hollering in orgasmic elation. After that day, we met daily in the jungle, kissing at first and then making love again and again, in positions that made us feel one with the jungle around us.

Never for a second have I regretted getting caught. When they hauled me away to be executed, my wrists bound with rope, I caught the eye of my love bathing naked in the river with her fellow tribeswomen. We knew what we had to do. We had been planning it since we met. Soon she would find me and untie me and we would be free. Together. This time, we had to make certain that our plan worked.

For unbeknownst to the tribal leaders, she had become pregnant and would have been killed if they found out that the baby was mine.

But this was a risk we were both willing to take. We would run, and soon we would be free. All of us.

Advertisements

Escape to Passion Cove

Artist George Gross; pinterest.com

On their very first night together, his delectable charm provoked in Jolanda a visceral devotion, making her heart flutter with wild affection. Theirs was a date that lasted a week, beginning with a helicopter flight to view the twinkling lights of the bustling city. Then it was off for a drive along the rocky coast with the ocean view to their right as far as they could drive. The wind wafted through their hair and a sunset over the horizon painted the sky pink. One of those beaches became their final destination, and a hotel by the water accepted cash. Finding a quiet cove where the waves rolled up in soft foam, they let their impassioned hearts break free as they tore at each other like beasts. Kisses became luscious desserts and caresses the buffet. When pleasure ripped through their bodies like thunder through lightning, their lovemaking intensified and excelled in orgasmic delight.

Boundless Dreams and Desires

Artist George Garland; pinterest.com

It was a long arduous ride across the western plains by carriage – days even – but they only felt like minutes with ravishing Verbena at my side.

Somewhere along the way, I must have been chattering about our dreams, a ranch house with horses and children and a future we could build on, and that’s when she turned and pressed her mouth to mine.

Her soft lips felt like the gentle lapping river forging a ravine through a dense forest of pine, smooth and warm and full of life, arousing in me my deepest desire to have her.

As passion flourished and her fingers tore through my hair, I stopped the carriage in the middle of an open valley, the sky like our future wide open before us, and I knew that for now, our dreams could wait.

Every Day Forever

Artist Ed Tadiello; pinterest.com

In a lone cabin deep in the heart of the forest, we slip into the bedroom and surrender to the hunger that has been building in our bodies all weekend.

While your hands explore every muscle of my taut frame, feverish intensity rises to new levels as our tongues engage in playful arousal.

“I’ve always known you loved me,” you whisper into my mouth, “since the day we met at the lake.”

“Since that day and every day forever,” I say as our breath mingles together and our kiss dissolves into one craving delicacy.

Under a Canopy of Love

Artist Edwin Georgi; pinterest.com

As the day yielded to a cool summer evening, we strolled among the apple orchards whose thick branches lifted over us like a canopy of love.

Quiet was the wind that blew peacefully along the grassy ground, its blades yielding sweetly to your feet with every step.

Tenderly I wrapped my jacket over your shoulders, desiring to soothe your chill with warmth.

“I love you,” I whispered, knowing full well that beginning tonight, my life would never be the same because you were in it.

Under the Cherry Trees

Artist Preston Blair; pinterest.com

Romantic 4-line flash fiction:

Fresh air teemed with inexorable life as a cool mountain spring wind tossled Celosia’s honey blonde hair.

As the cherry blossoms dotted the landscape pink against an azure afternoon sky, my shoes crunched gravel as I meandered beside her along the path with my fingers interlaced with hers.

“This is it,” I said, drawing her to myself, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, my lips a hair’s breath from hers.

“Don’t let me go,” Celosia pleaded breathlessly, a tiny tear trickling down her cheek, as our lips met and warmth flooded my soul, my heart aching for her to stay.

Author’s note: I’ll be heading to Japan this weekend in search of cherry blossom trees. Perhaps there is a romance story lingering there beneath the cherry trees, waiting for just the right moment when an author may happen by and capture a slice of romantic magic.

What to Do in a Thunderstorm

Artist Raphael Desoto; pinterest.com

Romantic Short Story:

It was my first date with the woman of my dreams, Tansy Kaeller from Vienna. She had feathered blonde hair like lemon sugar and a radiant smile that made her eyes squint and sparkle. When her mouth turned up in a grin, she revealed a slight yet devastatingly cute overbite. Devastating to me because I was the one who fell head over heals in love with her. From her sweet Austrian accent and dainty voice to her soft creamy skin, I loved everything little thing about her. In short, she took my breath away.

On my private multi-acre ranch that evening, we meandered down a dirt path that wound through rose bushes with a view of the stars above as bright as lanterns. The crickets serenaded our walk, but otherwise, it was pretty quiet except for the sound of our voices.

Tansy was drop-dead gorgeous that night, wearing a pink dress that clung to every curve with a generous dip in the front to reveal plenty of cleavage. She was clinging to my arm and her hair smelled like shampoo from perhaps a shower she’d taken before coming out tonight. I could feel her soft breasts pressing against my side, igniting my insides. With Tansy, I felt on top of the world and above all else, I had to tell her that tonight.

I couldn’t wait. I stopped and turned to her and she to me. Her face glowed in the moonlight and I noticed her full lips were wet. Had she steathily licked them while turning to me, or were they always so naturally glistening? I didn’t care, but I knew they were calling out to my lips like a magnet.

We had been talking about stupid things to kill time while we were meandering down the prim rose path – topics like the weather, the ranch, her English learning, the horses I’d ridden that morning, and so on. It was time to get serious. “Tansy,” I began breathlessly, “I have to kiss you.”

Her eyes squinted as she smiled. “Then why don’t you?” she asked, pronouncing the w in ‘why’ like a ‘v.’

I didn’t need a second invitation, moving in and pressing my lips to her wanting velvet mouth, one hand around her back, the other gently holding the nape of her neck. When our tongues met, she moaned and pressed her tongue harder inside my mouth with passionate fervor. We kissed long and wet, indulging deep desires that were bubbling up like a furnace.

But when I lifted my head from our kiss, just to see that beautiful face again, I noticed that her cheeks were no longer glowing in the moonlight. I looked up to the sky and immediately had a sense of what was coming. You get this intuitive sense on a ranch that just before it rains, there is a kind of fresh smell in the air and leaves on the trees turn over one way or another.

Then a rumbling in the distance. Thunder.

“We’d better head for shelter,” I suggested. “If we don’t hurry, that storm’s going to overtake us.” She nodded and we both hurried back down the path from which we’d come. But then some raindrops tip-tapped over us and then some more.

We began to run.

“Are we too late?” she asked, beginning to panic, and wobbling beside me in her high heels, picking up the pace.

The downpour was enough answer for her, coming down in drips at first, then a steady stream, then a heavy shower. Then the crack of thunder. She shrieked and held her arm over her head as a basic survival instinct to shelter herself from the rain. It wasn’t working. Within seconds, both of us were soaked through the clothes and running down the path that was quickly turning to mud.

I led her to the closest shelter there was on my property: a barn. It may not have been a five-star dream hotel, but it had a roof and dry shelter inside, priceless when you’re stuck out in a thunderstorm.

A flash of lightning and another whip crack of thunder chased us in through the massive double doors that I quickly shut behind us when we got inside. We were panting and laughing at ourselves that our clothes were fully soaked and we’d just barely managed to escape the storm.

Inside the empty barn that normally housed the bushels of wheat during harvest time, it was pitch black, so I found her hand easily in the dark and led her to a narrow staircase with creeky wooden steps in the corner. The stairs led to a loft with a low wooden-beamed ceiling structure, so we had to at least kneel down when we got up there.

Tansy lied on her back, catching her breath. Even in the shadows, I could see her breasts rising and falling with every breath she took. Her head was turned to me and was silently appraising my shadow, too.

“It’s the perfect shelter,” she said in her sweet singsong accent. Even though I couldn’t see her face, I could feel her smiling.

Outside the thunder was still crashing and rain was pelting the roof not far above us. When lightning flashed, I caught a glimpse of Tansy on the floor of the loft and my heart melted. I had never seen her like this. She was more adorable than I’d ever imagined. All wet and uninhibited and free.

I reached around for what I’d come up to the loft for and found it, the kerosene lamp. I found the matches in the little box underneath the lamp and lit it up.

Suddenly the whole loft flooded with light, which wasn’t really all that bright but coming from pitch darkness, anything dim seems like the sun.

Finally I sighed heavily with relief that we were finally safely out of the storm, and I sagged down to my back next to her, staring up at the wooden beams, feeling her warmth next to mine as our arms touched and our fingers interlaced.

Tansy turned over and lay on my stomach, her sparkling eyes staring into mine. “Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered as the rain poured down outside.

“I love secrets,” I said, gazing back into her eyes.

“All I wanted tonight,” she said, her breath on mine, “was just the chance to get close to you. Just like this. And now because of the storm, I get my wish.”

I was beaming. It got me thinking that maybe we forget that even though the storm crashes in ferocity, it’s who you’re with in the storm that really matters. I was grateful to be with Tansy. Our lives would never be the same again after that because we’d spent one beautiful night together, not only in the shelter of a barn, but under the shelter of each other, in the midst of the storm.

Wrapping my arms around her, I kissed Tansy again, drawing her close, fulfilling the wish she had made, and the one that I hadn’t even had the courage to wish for myself, believing in vain that it would never come true.