Flora glanced out the misted window, coffee cup in hand. Yesterday’s warmth had lured her into thinking that her namesake season – Spring, had arrived in her verdant floral garb. But today winter seemed to have returned, proving once again, that Flora was a hopeless optimist. Optimist or not, Flora seemed to have retained something of the unseasonal warmth – her skin felt hot despite the chill in the air, and she thought she detected a faint scent of flowers and awakening earth.
Without thinking Flora succumbed to the urge to press herself against the cold window pane. The firm contact of her breast against the chilly glass sent a frisson of delight through her and she drew back a little, her hand sliding into the opening of her lacy garment, smoothing and then pinching the nipple that rose to meet her touch.
An urge rose rapidly within her.
Slipping off her cosy mossy green cardigan Flora shook out the strands of her hair, feeling them cascade down her bare back, tickling and stirring her skin above her shoulderblades. The sensation reminded her of the other evening, lying face down on the bed, hair spread across her back, wearing nothing but her black stockings, waiting for Jack to ease his way up her body.
“Hold it right there!” he’d commanded, and she’d fought the urge to twist around to see what he was doing, settling instead for a curious “whaaat?..”
“Don’t move!” Obediently she remained on her stomach, stocking legs bent up, toes playfully touching.
“You are the keyhole” he’d intoned mysteriously, then the unmistakable sound of his camera firing off rapid shots. Groaning inwardly she’d remained in place for a few minutes as he’d moved around unseen behind her. After what seemed an eternity the whir of the camera ceased, and his warm hands had locked around her calves, pulling her legs apart, before his tongue descended on the sensitive strip above her stocking tops and began to trace a meandering pathway upward to her door…
Moaning at the memory Flora flattened her whole body against the window, uncaring if a neighbor might see. The sensation of hot skin and cold glass was exquisite, if ephemeral. Feverishly she moved to another window seeking the temperature contrast once again. As she did so she noticed the outline of her body adorning the glass – forearms raised, body symmetrical, dotted with the ghostly outline of lacy flowers.
This post is dedicated to the memory of the amazing Cuban born artist Ana Mendieta whose works continue to inspire and move me.
- The image above is number 2. in this series. The first one is featured on #SinfulSunday and #FPF2018#25 Flora
- To see who else is inspired by Missy’s gorgeous keyhole click on the Masturbation Monday link below for Wk. 182