Winter Season

Posted byChico’s MomPosted inUncategorized, Winter SeasonTags:, , ,
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Why?

“Let’s face it, I’m crazy about you and you’re crazy about me. This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted to rip your clothes off. And if you don’t know that I love you by now, let me tell you again.” She held his face in her hands, “Oscar Patterson, I love you.”

With what seemed like one fluid move from him, she was straddling his lap again. He kissed her with that wild, desperate kiss that made all her nerves like live wires. When he came up for air he said, “I have loved you since that night you helped me grade papers.” He rubbed his hand up her back under her shirt. “Stay with me tonight.”

“I’m assuming we are not talking about the guest bed?”

“I want to hold you like I held you the night you had a bad dream.”

“Do you think that wise?”

“I just want to be near you.”

“What will happen if we do?”

“That is between us and God. Or at least it should be but you know if anyone finds out my mother will delight in the Whore of Babylon bit.” He held her tightly for a long time. “Oh.” His hands were still under her shirt. “That.” He hissed as if he’d answered his own question.

“O,” She got up so she could meet him eye to eye. “I think it’s best if we put on the brakes. There will be all kinds of time for me to do the school girl routine, and believe you me, I will.”

“I can’t wait.” He kissed her. “You know that song, I want to kiss you all over?”

“Yeah.”

“I want to lick you all over.”

She giggled. “Oh indeed. But then, would I still get the extra credit.”

“All you need.” He ran his hands up her back again. This time he didn’t stop at her bra. He went under the material. His middle finger on his right hand touched a rough piece of flesh. As he moved his hand toward her side so he could feel what it was, he noticed she wasn’t breathing. “Ess, what is that?”

“I can’t tell you right now.” She looked as if she was going to cry.  

“But you will someday.”

“Yeah,” she choked, “someday.”

He pulled his knees up, gently guiding her against them. With a delicate touch, he traced the top of her bra that was exposed. Traced it with such care, as if it was a faberge egg.

She just watched him. If there was something bothering him, she wished he’d tell her. Back and forth with deliberate slowness, he caressed the material.

“Is purple your favorite color?”

Somehow she knew that wasn’t where his mind was. “Yes.” Her response was low.

When he spoke, his voice cracked. “Why do you love me?” He was no longer tracing the top of her bra. The expression on his face reminded her of a child seeing Santa for the first time. Curious, scared, excited, lost.

What kind of question was this? She couldn’t let him see the utter shock she felt.

He was watching her, waiting.

She took a deep breath, “You love me for who I am. You let me be myself. That is the best feeling in the world. You are kind. Nothing I do goes unnoticed. You knew what size to buy my Christmas present without asking.” Big tears streamed down his face. She carefully wiped them away. He was breaking her heart.

He focused his gaze back to her bra. “If my own mother doesn’t love me, how can you?”

She continued caressing his face. “I can’t speak for your mother. You are the kindest. Most caring, gentle, sweetest, smartest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I am excited; even with that big blob of shit hanging over my head.” He smiled though still crying. “I’m excited that you are in my life.”

He pulled her to him, burying his face in her cleavage, sobbing. When she draped her arms around his shoulder so she could hold his head and put her fingers in his hair, it seemed he cried that much harder.

It broke her heart.

Winter Season

Published by Chico’s Mom

Thanks for visiting. My blog has lots of different styles: drawing, painting, photography, stories and poetry.

49 thoughts on “Winter Season”

  1. I love that you have the courage to write and post these stories. It shows such vulnerability and tenderness, along with your erotic imagery.. yet you also remain restrained in your descriptions, allowing the readers imagination room to go further. My favorite line lies in the middle.. “i want to lick you all over.” .. Ty ❤

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      5. I’ve written a few poems with erotic imagery i am reluctant to post publicly. Did you feel that resistance with writing your stories? And are they fantasies, or just stories about characters having fantasies.. or perhaps a bit of each.?

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      6. Yes, I do. My experience, I must say this community is very respectful when it comes to creativity. I’ve only had one person pull attention to my not so elegant grammar. And a couple who didn’t understand my posting style. With ‘Winter Season’, I post a picture of caution when I use colorful language or as with a past post an adult situation. When I posted my first religious piece, I was very nervous of negative comments. There are quite a few religious writings here. Not just Christianity. One blogger that I’ve been reading is the shimmermuse. There not much imagery to it, it’s there. The school girl fantasy belong to the character.

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      7. I follow shimmering muse and enjoy her work too. Ty for your thoughtful reply. I have found other poets along with yourself i feel an artistic kinship with. I’m more concerned with readers who are friends or family knowing more of my inner life than i want to share publicly.

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      8. Yes, she does have good work.

        I understand that. Very few of my personal relations know about my blog. I know they know I blog. But if they have read any of it, I’m unaware. I have a really difficult time expressing what I need (or think I need) to say. So this is where I do it.

        You are so very welcome. And thank you on so many levels. If I may ask, what does Ozarkwaterpal mean?

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      9. It is just an email i created when i worked as an environmental action coordinator. When i started this blog, i resumed using the same email address. Then wordpress suggested that as a name for my website (ozarkwaterpal.com).. so i did that. The blog is the only thing i’m doing with the web address.. but perhaps one day i will expand to offer some of my music as well. I have some good original songs i’m hoping to record and share.. someday.

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      11. Yes, alot lately.. and i have a ton of resistance. Stories and songs being the foundation of culture .. i loathe the idea of letting something like youtube or fb being so integral to my creative work. This blog is me putting my toe in the water..

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      12. I’m a big fan of baby steps.

        I posted one story on (then Twitter) for 15 minutes. It scared the daylights out of me. I’ll stick to WordPress/Jetpack. I do have a few shorts on YouTube. The only purpose in doing that was to link to my WP/JP work.

        Do what’s comfortable for you.

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      13. Agree w/ baby steps.. but also feel that being uncomfortable is part of growing in a new direction.. so there’s that. I move so slowly sometimes it feels like i’m watching a rock.

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      14. Sorry, I thought watching a rock was funny. Rocks have amazing stories to tell. 😉 And yes, being uncomfortable is part of the process. I guess the learning is knowing the difference between good uncomfortable and bad uncomfortable.

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      15. Rocks do have amazing stories to tell.. and i am a great listener. The area i live has a wide variety of rocks, i often bring them home from my walks. Others, i just go visit.. 🙂

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      16. though i think i’m probably more like a tree than a rock.. still hard to notice anything change except for the seasonal cycles.. so i try to tap into those energies with my art and work. Now is my season of nurturing new growth for the year ahead.

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      19. In many ways, i feel both lost and found in my life.. like i went off the beaten path long ago.. found myself in a magical place.. made a home here.. and the rest of the world kept on spinning, but more wobbly as the years go by.. and myself less interested in jumping on that wagon again with youtube and google etc. driving the bus. Part of me just wants to keep my two feet planted on the real earth and sing my songs in real time for real people.

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      22. Yes. This year, since my dog passed a month ago.. i will have more freedom to do some of those things. I was caregiving for a long time.. covid before that. Trump did not help my state of mind either.. not to be political, but its been a challenging few years for this singing tree hugger

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      24. I wrote a song called the neighbor song .. i will try to send it to you somehow someday. Meanwhile you inspired me to write this morning and here is what i found.. Touching Stories

        Reading your stories
        a window of sorts
        loving the ride on
        a purple dark horse

        Esther tells Oscar
        her deepest of thrills
        i think we know what
        they both deeply feel

        And how they each have
        their own walls in the way
        both with desires beat
        their life through the day

        A thousand miles more
        to imagine such glory
        the hope of love lives
        inside touching stories ~

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      30. I took the road less traveled and made a home at the end. I’m already online several hours each day, and watch how it takes up ever more room in my psyche. Art and music and stories being maintained outside of and apart from the internet, i think of as something like an endangered species.

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  2. WHY is a question. If you don’t ask that it means you are not growing in a any way or form.
    WHY to your parents poverty
    WHY to government bad administration
    WHY to your community leaders
    WHY armed robbers on the streets
    Kidnappers, ritualistic, the orphans, widows, prisoners, WHY this or that here and there.

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  3. Pingback: Winter Season – Poetry & More

      6. Third party checks I must get in the mail.
        Still, they move like a snail.
        Rain, the weather duth bring.
        The dampness will not sting.
        A new verse a brewing.
        In a brain full of words stewing.

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