I’ve got you under my skin.

I’ve got you under my skin…

And as I hear that song the echoes of memories flood back once again. I try my hardest to keep them under control or they’d take me over and before you know it I’m the crazy old woman who talks to thin air and keeps a jar of ashes on my dining room table. Nope, I’m not going to be that person.

We met at a party, we danced to that song, the Frank Sinatra version when it was fresh and we were young, oh so young. I knew from the moment you put your arms around my waist that I loved you. It was like a bolt from heaven and when we kissed that just sealed the deal. Your lips were so gentle and so strong and I held onto your wide, masculine shoulders and let myself fall deeper in love with you.

We had our ups and downs of course, there was that Bitch Katie Summer who was desperate to get her claws in her. You were a good man with a suit and a good office clerks wage and she wanted out of the factory, she didn’t want you really, just wanted your status and your job. I don’t recall that day with much fondness though there was a certain satisfaction in the sting left in my palm once I cracked her round the face with it. She left you alone from that moment, scared that I’d curl up a fist the next time I heard her talking about you in such a vulgar way.

Only I was allowed to do that. I hear the reverberation of them on the night air, the whispered sweet nothings of the night we consummated our marriage to the raunchy and rude demands that came as we grew to know each other’s particulars. You were a dominant man and I needed that. You often took me to task, lay me over your knee and gave me a damn good spanking. Blimey, when I think back to the time I accidently broke that fruit bowl that your aunt gave us for a wedding present I swear my arse still aches from the imprint of your hand chastising me. And I know it’s base to say and I’d never mention it in public but the fucking you gave me then, banging into my hot buttocks was one of the rawest, most delicious sexual encounters of our days together.

I’m not thinking about the end, no, no. I did enough of that at the time. No, I remember you as when we met, vibrant and laughing and that night of our Ruby Wedding where we danced again to our song and made all our children feel queasy with our public affection and our grandchildren asked us whether we lived in black and white when we first got married, like the old TV programmes. Ah, those were the days, my love, those were the days that echo in my heart all day long.

I’ve got you deep in the heart of me, So deep in my heart that you’re really a part of me. I’ve got you under my skin.

Save a space for me in Heaven, my love, I’ll be there soon. I can’t wait, really. I’m too old now, my knees don’t work and my ears don’t hear and I feel lost and confused without you. I know you’re just in the other room waiting for me, I’ll be there soon, love, I’ll be there soon.

John and Terri have been dating for six months now, and John is anxious to commemorate this special anniversary. As much as Terri loves the time she spends with John, she still can’t shake her negative self-worth. When a series of misunderstandings drives the two apart, it’s up to John to convince the woman he loves that she’s the only one with whom he wants to be intimate.

Peter was an assertive man, in complete control of his life and work. But in his closest relationships he was a natural submissive, and he had been searching for a dominant partner for as long as he could remember. Dissatisfied with his relationships, he had sought the services of a professional Mistress. Lisa enjoyed her work as a sadistic Dominatrix, exploiting his masochism and they soon became good friends. It seemed as if he had everything he needed, and his search was over. Then he met Suzy and fell in love with her, they were brought together by a quirk of fate. She had her own agenda, but there was something unspoken, something below the surface that drew them together, but would she love him? And if she did, would he be able to live a life denying his need to be dominated?

“She was my girlfriend in life,” he said as we embraced, “she stood by me through the change and she fed me. We were in love and today…” his words trailed off as emotion choked him. I stroked a hand gently up and down his back and held back on the urge to kiss his cool cheek. I’m here to comfort him I chided myself, I need to keep my damn libido in check.

“Today she left me. She said she didn’t want to be just a meal ticket any longer, that she’d had enough. I wanted to stop her, to hold her, to turn her,” as those words filtered through my mind a chill ran through my body as I realised I was hugging a very dangerous beast indeed. “I didn’t though. I couldn’t. I loved her, I would never do this to someone I loved, to anyone. No one deserves this curse.”

“You’re a good man,” I whispered.

“Vampire,” he corrected.

“Okay, vampire, but you’re still a man, Alex, being the living dead doesn’t stop that.”

“Oh, Zoe,” he sighed and tightened his grip on my waist, “you’ve always been so kind to me.” His head rolled into the cup of my neck where it joins my shoulder. His lips were air kissing my skin he was so close. I wanted to hold my breath, wanted to scream. He could bury his fangs in my flesh without a second thought but I wasn’t scared, no, strangely I wasn’t. I wanted to scream out the pent up lust inside. I was stuffed full of desire.

I felt as if really I should speak, but words just would not form between my dry lips. I continued to stroke my hand softly up and down his back then his lips were against my neck. At first I thought it was just a mistake as he moved them back again an instant later. I tried desperately to think of something to say, to break the tension but before anything came to mind his lips fell to my neck again and this time they stayed there.

A first kiss is normally on the lips but his first kiss slipped up and over the delicate skin of my neck. I am sure he could feel the frantic beat of my heart echoed in my fast—flowing blood and I wondered if he would bite but instead his lips trailed up to and across my chin and to my waiting lips. If I’d have had time to think I’d have stopped him there and then. That would have been the sensible thing to do but no, I did not think, I kissed. And the kiss blossomed.

Excerpt:

Gavin Howard jumped out of bed the moment he heard the sound of the crash.

He’d been sleeping soundly, exhausted after a day of planting crops in the field behind his small farmhouse, when a loud boom shook the house down to its foundation and a blinding flash of light lit up the entire room.

Jerked from a pleasant dream involving two male belly dancers and a lot of whipped cream, Gavin opened his eyes as his befuddled brain struggled to catch up. Glancing at the clock, Gavin groaned when he saw the glowing red numbers read 2:17am. Lights shone from his backyard, just visible through his bedroom bay window. The red and orange flickering moved hypnotically and beautifully. It took a long moment before he realized what he saw.

Was that–? Holy shit, my backyard is on fire!

Before he even realized he had moved, Gavin jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans over his half-hard cock, not bothering to do up the buttons completely. He grabbed his shotgun and charged down the stairs like a herd of buffalo were after him.

Before he even reached the kitchen and back door that lead outside, Gavin heard his old Blue Heeler, Bo, going wild, barking like a demon-possessed hound. The dog threw itself at the screen door again and again, blocking him from getting to the backyard and only quieting his howls to whimpering and whining when he spotted his beloved owner rushing into the room.

Gavin grabbed a flashlight from below the sink, patting Bo’s head as he went by.

“S’okay boy, I got it.” He opened the door, then turned back to push Bo back into the house when the mutt tried to slip between his legs. “Stay, Bo. Stay!” he commanded, not wanting to put his dog in danger until the backyard was safe. He shut the door, taking a deep breath to ready himself to face whatever had disturbed his sleep so violently.

Gavin turned, prepared to face the issue at hand.

And promptly dropped the flashlight he held.

“No way…” he muttered, staring in disbelief at the scene before him. He couldn’t reconcile what he saw with what his brain knew had to be possible. He looked around. Nope, no cameras or microphones anywhere to be seen. Bo still whined from inside the house. Gavin gave himself a little pinch on the leg with his one free hand and hissed at the sharp, bright pain blossoming on his leg. Well, he wasn’t dreaming, which meant what he was seeing had to be real.

The scene before him seemed impossible, unbelievable.

Gavin just stood there, stunned, gun hanging from limp hands, mouth hanging open.

What the hell is going on?

No way could there be a crashed spaceship sitting in the center of his cornfield.

Pulling together his now-tattered courage, Gavin reached down to pick up the fallen flashlight, and then carefully started to approach the smoking wreckage, gun ready to shoot at the smallest sign of movement. Times like this, he was glad his military training gave him enough experience to keep himself safe as he approached a possible danger zone. His eyes were trained on the sky, for what, he didn’t know–more ships maybe?

Because as much as he wanted to deny what he was seeing, there was no doubt about it; he was definitely looking at a large silver spaceship.

The ship didn’t seem to be much taller than his tractor but definitely appeared wider; at least twenty feet across in an almost disk shape. The smooth sides shone silver, with an iridescent sheen that probably served as camouflage while the ship flew. He’d seen a weak rendition of just that type of thing years before while he’d been on special assignment in the Marines. Although, what he saw back then didn’t even begin to compare to the stunning object before him.

The fallen ship gave off a thrumming feel, vibrating deep in his chest with a low hum, almost like when the next door neighbor played a bass guitar in his garage. Gavin could still remember those days from back when he lived on the base. He knew there was sound coming from the amplifiers, but it was too low for him to actually hear. He could feel the static energy and vibration on his skin, but no sound could be heard.

All of the sudden, Gavin realized that what he was seeing might be real. As a kid, he’d always been a comic book fan and loved the old Star Trek TV show. But never in his life could he have imagined something like this.

Hot damn! He had a real live flying saucer in his backyard.

Dance Echo

When I dance now it is but an echo of what was. I use to be so carefree, my heart would soar with every leap, my soul expand with every leap.

But now she’s gone all I have a memories, memories that taunt me from afar like the whispered response of my own voice bouncing off walls. We were young, reckless and wild. She loved me and I loved her and no one really understood. They thought we were just very close friends, in our village the idea of two women being in love was just not one that jumped to mind.

Clara and I didn’t mind, though. We used their innocence to our advantage. I was glad that in our dance class there were more women than men and I never raced to partner one of the lads. Their movements were clumsy, their hands invasive. No, I always made sure I ended up in the arms of Clara.

“It’s a shame you weren’t born a man,” Mrs Shaw said on more than one occasion, “because you and Clara work so well together and you are the best man in the room, dear but don’t let the boys hear me say that.” “You’re better than a man,” My Clara would whisper as we lay together in the cornfield, her finger tickling my breast, “you are softer, gentler, sexier.”

We made love in the same manner we danced. With gay abandon. I don’t think it ever once crossed our minds that what we were doing was, in the eyes of many, wrong. We just did what came naturally to us. And it was natural, we fit together so well, we knew what it took to turn each other on, we spent many an hour searching for orgasms and finding them, lots of them.

We moved in together at twenty one. My Mother passed away and Clara invited me to live with her, for company. I needed her comfort and so agreed without second thought. It was the best decision of my life. We had so much fun in our home together. Fun in every single room, I especially enjoyed the huge bath that we’d share. The added sensuality of water always made me come hard. Cara liked to have me on the dining room table. She had a dominant streak and would love to bend me over, spank me until the sound echoed through the house and my mind.

But echoes are all I have now. Echoes of dances, clothed and unclothed. Echoes of love that keep me warm at night as I cuddle under my blanket and think of her.

She had a good innings, many people told me so, in the days up to her funeral. We had grown old together, we’d promised that we would. We could have grown older but she could not fight the cancer away any longer. She tried, she really tried and I helped her but in the end, she had to give in. Her last words to me were. “I love you.” She passed in her sleep, a mercifully quiet and painless passing. For that, I’m glad.

I’m alone, now, I’ve never been alone before. I don’t like it. I have the memories of my sweetheart to keep me warm, though and I will go on living for her, because of her.