Jean Paul turned to face the stranger, the mysterious lady who had captured his eye at the masquerade ball. They had danced the evening away, swirling and gliding into the ecstasy of new-found passion...even though neither had seen the others' face, their bodies had responded to each other as readily as if they were already lust-filled lovers.

She had whispered low and sweetly as the final gavotte neared its end; the feathers on her mask tickling his ear provocatively.
"Meet me in the Rose Garden"

He didn't think twice. And now, here he was, about to see this masked temptress face-to-face. His body was taut with anticipation, desire growing inside of him as the myriad of colors slid off her face.

And then...

Whoa. WHOA now! What the hell WAS that? Was that like ...a mole? Or her nose? Or...was her nose just naturally...like that? How was he supposed to...talk...or...or even THINK clearly with that thing...just...SITTING there...on her face...taunting him!?!?

"I am Esmerelda. I have been waiting for you all my life."

Well, the voice was nice...but GEE WHIZ!

"Um...Erm...I'm..uh...::cough:: Peter...yeah, Peter...um, I forgot I had to go...see to something in the...in the barn..um, yeah, well -- maybe I'll catch ya later, huh?"

And with that, he turned and faded into the darkness, out of her life forever, his black, caped visage melting into the ebony night.

1. What color hair and eyes do you want?

2. Do you want a historical or modern-day setting? What country/fantasy world do you want?

Thanks

*bounces excitedly*

Once she had stood on this hill, looked out over the heather, and imagined that she could not possibly feel sad, not if she were here in her beloved Scotland. But the beautiful land could not longer fill the longing in her heart. Not it alone. The hole left by Duncan’s rejection of her profession of undying love was a wound that cut too deep.

“Billie?” A tremulous voice cut into her reverie.

No. How could he? Was he here to thrust the sword of bitter pain ever deeper into her heart? Had he not already devastated her completely?

She turned to face him, and as she did the wind picked up, lifting her hair and bringing with it the scent of the heather.

Her sharp retort stuck in her throat before it could be uttered. Duncan was standing there, in full clan regalia. The scarlet and black tartan of Clan Fraser was stunning on him, and it certainly made him look imposing. Any enemy of Scotland would hesitate in fear at sight of him. She was afraid too, but for much a different reason.

“Billie,” he said again as he began striding toward her.

“No,” she answered breathily. “Don’t say my name. Don’t say anything to me. If you will go, then go now! Have you not done enough? Or must you come here and plunge the dagger of your betrayal into my heart once more?”

That blow hit him close, she could tell. There was pain in those steely blue eyes. Good. He should hurt, too.

“Billie, please hear me,” he implored. She turned her back to him. He could talk if he wished, but she did not have to look at him. Didn’t have to let him see the pain in her eyes.

“I never meant to betray you. When I became promised to you, I dinna ken this war was coming. And I canna bear to go off to war, with the goodly chance I willna return and leave ye a widow! Rather you were free, so that ye can find yourself a good man, a man who deserves you.” He said the words in a rush, stumbling over them as if he must spill them out all at once or they would not be said at all.

Billie let the tears spill down her face. She turned then, to find the distance between them had closed, and he was close enough to reach out and touch a tear, then bring it to his lips. “So, the story about you and Elanna?” she asked, daring to hope.

“Ay,all a lie, beloved. I had to do something to make you hate me, I couldna bear the thought of it, but it was better that ye be free to make your own choices.”

“If I have a choice at all, I shall always choose you, Duncan. I love you and you alone.” She cried out with joy as she fell into his embrace.

“But Billie, what if I fall in this war? What I leave you and never return?” he asked as he crushed her to his chest. She could feel the coarseness of the wool of his plaid against her cheek.

“If you don’t return, then we will have had this moment, my Duncan. But you will return, our love will keep you safe.”

With those words, they fell to the ground, bodies joined. Underneath them, the scent of crushed heather wafted up, surrounding them, the very air of the Scottish highlands embraced them in an affirmation of their love for each other. Billie closed her eyes, letting the sounds and smells of her beloved land mingle with the sensation of being wrapped in the arms of her lover, Duncan. Hers forever, hearts joined, souls melded, never to be parted.

At some point the madness had to end. Loren knew the madness had to end. He could not continue this charade, this constant unfilled need that left him empty and aching.

The bell rang and his students streamed in through the class door, all searching for their favorite seat.

He tried not to look up to search for her face among them. Lord knows he tried. But an almost feverish need to see her again won out over his will and his head whipped up. His eyes found her almost instinctively as she set her books down on the desk and pushed her beautiful chestnut hair out of her face. The sight nearly broke his heart...

Tammy found her favorite seat. Fifth row, middle chair. With the advantage of stadium seating, it was the one place in the room that Mr. Higbee could not avoid looking at during lecture. His eyes automatically travelled to that spot, and she wanted to make sure they automatically travelled to her.

Loren bought all the time he could before beginning lecture, allowing his students to settle in. They were young adults, not teenagers, and so it didn't buy him as much time as he was hoping. He took a big breath and then stood to begin his lecture on representations of Byzantium in modern literature.

She was sitting in the middle seat, fifth row. Loren momentarily hated her. His eyes couldn't help but rest there. It was dead center of his vision, and no matter where he looked it was in his peripheral. And she was taking advantage of it. Oh, but was she taking advantage of it.

Tammy's face betrayed a wicked grin as her fingers twirled through a lock of her hair. The backlessness of the desks revealed her long legs crossing and uncrossing, miles of flesh meandering down from a wantonly short skirt. One finger traveling from the locks of her hair to play with her soft, swollen lips.

Sweat beads emerged all over Loren's body. He knew that Tammy was well aware of what she was doing, and it took him all of his determination to make it through the lecture.

The sound of the bell ringing was like a chorus of angels in his mind. This was the last class of the day, and he could escape to his car, to his home and back to reality.

As he gathered his text books and his coat and began closing up for the day he heard the sound of the last student leaving. A sigh of release escaped his lungs. It was going to be okay. He was going to make it through another day...

The lights of the room went out and he turned in time to see Tammy lock the class door and close the blinds on the door's window. She turned around and looked at him with mock innocence.

"Alone at last, Mr. Higbee," she purred.

"Tammy," Loren began, "you know we can't do this. We've talked about it. You know this isn't right."

Tammy nodded and gave him a look of total, mock sympathy. "Yes, it would be very wrong," she said, and then grinned like 'very wrong' was exactly what they both wanted.

It was. Oh god, it was...

"Oh, c'mon Loren. It's not like it's illegal. It's just unethical."

"I could get fired for this!" he said with intensity, hoping a little passion in his voice would cause her to understand his position.

Again, she nodded in sympathy. "Then, I suppose we're going to have to be very, very careful.

"Let's start now."

Tammy pulled him to her using his tie and their bodies slammed together. He had loved her from the very moment he had seen her, and they had built a relationship together before they ever realized the danger. From that moment they had made the decision that they would be only friends, but that was becoming increasingly more and more impossible.

Loren looked down to see the first sincere expression Tammy had managed this afternoon. "I'm sorry, Loren," Tammy said. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't wait any longer. Please forgive me." Then she pulled his head down and met his lips with her own.

Loren surrendered to Tammy, to her desires, and to his own. Please forgive me, Tammy had said. Please forgive me.

As Loren felt the last thread of his self-control slip all he could think was, I forgive you, my love. I forgive you...

And Ralphie... ...

....

Also, I hope you guys note how hard I worked on my metaphors and similes - getting them to express a common theme:

...a wound that cut too deep

...the sword of bitter pain ever deeper into her heart

...the dagger of your betrayal into my heart

Your hack is very nice, dear.

*wishes she could write these things*

I wonder if I begged my sister enough.....hmmm..SG-if you're reading this-if I buy you a new copy of speaker, would you write one to embarass Human?

SG-nm-but I'll buy it for you if you'll just write one not about human...I'd love to see one you wrote

That would have me out of my chair laughing.

You are so way cool!

I finally overcame my fear of even opening this particular thread and look what a gift I was given!

I'll sleep happy tonight!!!!

Those are wonderfully awful!

I cannot stop blushing. All hail the grand Ralphie, master of all puppets. I really cannot speak. Ralphie has taken my breath. What, who, hu? Ralphie you shame Jackie Collins. I think I am going to have to walk this one off. I’ll be back later.

This is a great thread. See what I miss by being out of the loop for three days! I can't believe I missed this.

Ralphie - you are a master. I am in awe. I LOVE dante and flibbles. That's amazing.

quote:

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...and then, as fluid as a fine imported transmission, she whipped out her man-organ and pissed away his dreams.

---

quote:

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I like to speak softly and carry a big stick.

---

Thank you Belle!

Lovely accents. And quite sweet story.

I have Diosmel, coil, Mikey and Jennifer, and Frisco to write.

Edit because I just realised I requested that from Belle. I had only read hers when I wrote that. But now I've read the whole thread, and I'd be more than happy with a scene from anyone...this is such a fun thread!

*decides to try writing one*

----

Dan knew when he stepped onto the ship that he was walking into his destiny. What that could be, he couldn’t begin to imagine. The sound of the waves lapping against the hull whispered to him of dreams he couldn’t quite remember, but he would follow nonetheless.

He never acquired his sea legs and the constant queasiness the rocking of the ship caused made him begin to question his resolution. Perhaps his mother was right, perhaps he should have married the Dukes homely daughter and lived the easy life she would inherit so soon. A life of dancing and sport with no work he would ever need to do. But that is not how a man lives. A man’s spirit is filled with the sweat and blood of his life’s work and nourished by the heated passions of a beautiful woman. Such thoughts had taken him to the docks and signed him up for a tour on this vessel, where he shed plenty of his own sweat and blood. His already lean body was now muscular and taught. Now he just needed to find that beautiful women.

He laughed at the thought. Here on the open sea, a woman?

The laughter was a bit too much for his stomach and soon enough he lost breakfast to the open sea. As he watched the bits of partially digested bread toss about he noticed that the waves seemed a little higher today. He looked up and saw that a great storm was brewing and heard the crew rushing about to prepare.

Hours later, only a few barrels and bits of wood remained. Days later, a chunk of the deck with Dan’s limp, drenched, barely breathing body washed ashore on the Island of Sacrifice.

He awoke shivering and aware that strong arms around his shoulders. He cautiously opened his eyes and found himself looking at the most beautiful face he had ever scene. Serene deep browns eyes looked into his cool green ones and he felt his pulse quicken. His return to the land of the living visibly brightened this strange creature and a dazzling smile played across her face. He felt his heart melt.

Soon he was standing, dazed, hungry and sore, but not caring at all. She stood as tall as he and stunning in the sun. The girl called to him in a strange tongue with a wave that said follow me. She walked inland with the wind playing in her short brown hair, the sun bringing out a hint of red. The scant bit of fabric that her garb comprised of did little to hide her gorgeous movements. The delicate curves of her tall strong body awakened desires stronger than he thought possible. He wondered if this was a dream. He hoped this one he would remember.

He caught up with her in a shady glade and tried to introduce himself. “Dan,” he said, pointing at himself. She replied, “Myrddin” and laughed. The gleeful sound shook her body, her trembling, bare shoulder shook his balance.

Their eyes met again and instantly they were in each other’s arms. They kissed and in that kiss was every reason Dan had fled his parents’ rule. His hands eagerly discovered what his eyes had been exploring already. He felt her lips play gently along his ears and the fingers of her right hand run through his hair. He felt the left brushing elsewhere. He cupped her firm breasts in his dry, work hardened hands as she pulled him to the ground. Clothing dissolved and hours of passion passed.

Lying with her asleep on his shoulder in the early morning, he watched the light of the setting moon play in the woods. This, he knew, is what he had been looking for. This woman who could match him for strength and passion and had the grace of a dancer and the beauty of all earth, she was his destiny. They would have days of finding food and shelter, living off their own labor and nights of sweet bliss, he thought to himself. So lost in his dreams, he did not notice the men that had arrived on the island until they had the couple surrounded.

Myrddin stirred softly against him, then jumped fully awake at the sight of those who were obviously her people. An argument in a language he could not follow began, but lasted only a few minutes before the men attacked. With her strong determination and his years of training, they were fierce opposition, but they were no match for the two dozen men. They were bound and dragged to a field with a stone altar.

She was again questioned and when her responses were answered with fierce blows, Dan shouted for them to stop. One of the men stepped forward and began to talk at him in broken English. Dan tried to follow the explanation. She was a sacrifice sent to this island to be purified before her blood was shed and he had defiled her. The gods would not accept a tainted sacrifice, but, decided the men, they might accept two.

Again her soft eyes met his and filled his heart. As one, they struggled against the bindings as they were lifted onto the altar. She twisted around and again their lips met in a kiss that lasted the rest of their lives.