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Sunday, 19 January 2014

Spiral

The day was glorious, the sun high in the clear blue sky adding the illusion of warmth to these coastal waters. Light filtered down, casting shadows from the coral and the fish swimming by onto the golden sand below. The weight of the scuba equipment was negated by the bouyancy of the water as he swam, it was almost possible to forget it was there. Sam was used to wearing the equipment now, having been on an intensive training course, to get ready for this moment, this hunt for lost treasure. What he was seeking was not treasure in the traditional sense but something that was taken from him.

The current tried to take him towards the shore, a gentle yet insistent pressure. Resisting this tidal pull with a kick from his flippers, he moved lower towards the sea bed. Sam was sure it was close, he had many failed attempts in the past year but this time he was sure, it felt right. Lost in thoughts of the past Sam almost missed a glint out the corner of his eye. Scanning the sand below he saw it again, over to his left, a definite sparkle. A powerful kick of his legs helped him close the distance. Was this it, had he finally found it? Sam used his hand to brush away some sand. Finally it was his again.

It was just like he remembered, a smooth, metallic disc with a picture etched onto its surface. Being submerged had not affected it at all, not one spot of rust marred its beauty. The picture was that of a snake, curled into a spiral, an image he could draw from memory, even though he had not seen the original for seventeen years. He scooped it up and placed it in a bag with some unusual shells he had gathered during his search. Excitement building, he made his way back to the boat he had hired.

Safely aboard, he got out of his scuba gear, towelled off. Having donned jeans and a plain t-shirt he moved to the table and emptied the bag. Shells cascaded across the surface whilst the disk just hit with a solid thump, it landed with the image face up, but he remembered it always had. Seeing it here on the table, so close, took him back to the last time he saw it. He had been twelve years old, his parents had kept it in a safe, on board their yacht, a safe that Sam had known the code to. He had discovered the disc a few months earlier and felt strangely drawn to it. There was something about the spiral that spoke to him, Sam had felt like it belonged with him. He used to take it out to look at when he could, but he never had it for long, always he had been worried about being caught.

Seventeen years ago Sam had been holding the disc when his mother had walked into the room, he was so focused on it, so close to a discovery, every second bringing him closer to understanding, that he never heard her panicked yell for his father. The disk had been ripped from his grasp, his vision swam and all he could see was hazy dots making everything seem spotty. He had staggered after his father, crying out for the disk, desperately trying to explain how close he was to understanding, but unable to form the words in his disorientated state. Finally catching up with his father in time to watch him hurl the disk into the sea. There was no splash, it just entered the waves and sank beneath the surface. His father had reached out and cradled his face, looking him in the eyes, asking over and over if he was okay. The shock of seeing how worried and pale his father was, finally cleared the cloud of confusion that had been fogging up his mind. After that day the disc was never mentioned again, if he tried to bring it up the subject was changed, eventually he stopped asking, but never forgot.

Now, years later he had found it again. Looking down at the table Sam felt a certainty, that he was always meant to find it again, he had the strangest feeling, if he had not found it, then it would have found him. It was a feeling that had the hairs on his arms rise up along with goosebumps. Sam sat down and reached for the disc, but nerves got the better of him and he let his hands fall to his lap. He reached out again and stopped, finally he pulled himself together and took hold of it. The disc felt cold at first but started to warm quickly as his eyes followed the spiral towards the centre, he kept following the curves round and round, the disc was getting hotter and still he had not reached the end.

Time passed and he sat there lost in the spiral, the heat from the disk becoming uncomfortable, his vision focused on the spiral and only the spiral. The day waned into night and he did not notice the luminescence that allowed his journey to continue, feeling close to the end but never quite reaching his goal. The heat intensified, and he struggled to keep hold but could not let go, then the light grew so bright that he cried out in shock before slumping unconscious to the floor.

Sam awoke to the soothing sound of the ocean, lapping against the side of the boat, but something felt wrong, the boat was not moving with the tide any more. He stood slowly, hands rubbing at his temples, trying to massage away the throbbing pain. Sam looked around for the disk but there was no sign, he turned the room upside down but there was nothing. His head was hurting and his mouth was dry, heading to the galley he drank straight from the carton of juice left there. All the while, he racked his brain for an explanation of what had happened but came up short.

His thirst quenched, the pain in his head subsiding, Sam decided to head up to the deck and find out what was up with the boat. Poking his head up through the hatch he quickly realised the problem, the boat was grounded on the beach. If the grounded boat was his only problem he would have been okay, but unfortunately he had no idea where he had run ashore. There was nothing familiar at all, as far as he could make out there was not any obvious signs of habitation. There was a hill close by and he decided to see what a higher view point might yield.

The climb was not overly strenuous but by the time he reached the hilltop his head was throbbing again and he was breathing heavily. The view was spectacular, the island Sam was on was small and he could see all the way around from here, there were other islands nearby and thankfully he recognised one. A giant wave of relief washed over him and he felt the best he had all day. He made his way back to the beach and examining the boat he could not see any signs of damage, his day was getting better, now if only he could get this boat afloat again.

As he considered his options he felt a tingling sensation in the palm of his hands, he turned them up to get a better look and was shock to see the spiral design on each hand. Sam traced it with his fingers and could feel the raised, slightly inflamed flesh. The tingle grew more pronounced and then the heat began, he ran to the waters edge and thrust his hands into the waves, shocked at the hissing as water flash boiled. The tingling stopped, and he pulled his hands from the surf and looked at the now clear image on each palm.

His hands felt fine, and running his fingers over the images there was no evidence of anything unusual, just his normal skin. Sam could not stop looking at the picture, it was identical on each hand and rather than disfiguring it looked like it belonged there. This whole affair was shaping up to be a unique and intense experience. He walked back to the boat, his mind working overtime trying to process everything. All he wanted to do was get aboard and grab a drink, not juice this time. The tide had moved further out and so he had time to kill, he climbed aboard and made his way to the galley.


As he poured a Southern Comfort, he found himself wishing he was afloat again, so he could get home and do some reasearch, he desperately wanted some answers. As he moved to take a seat, a strange tingle in his palms distracted him and then he nearly lost his balance as the boat lurched. Sam rushed up to the deck and stopped dead in his tracks. It could not be, the boat was afloat again and already quite a distance from the shore. Sam looked down at his palms in wonder, could he have done this?.......

Thursday, 9 January 2014

Heaven Sent

What once was still,
as hard as stone.
Now is fluid,
in this shell of bone.

What thunderous noise,
such dizzying sound.
Replaces the silence,
within which I was bound.

This feeling of freedom,
this lack of restraint.
This purity of emotion,
which nothing can taint.

For all of this,
to whom do I owe?
Who is the one,
that to me did bestow.

There can only be one answer,
one reply which rings true.
The giver of these gifts,
My Angel is you.

Monday, 6 January 2014

Angel on the dancefloor

Gemma was distracted, the noise of the concert washed over her but her attention was not on the stage, but on the vision of beauty, dancing and laughing ten paces to her left. She felt her heart racing and the flush of blood in her cheeks, the effect this woman was having on her was fast becoming physical. A growing warmth, an intense pleasure, the beat of the music pulsing through her body had her teetering on the edge. Gemma was mesmerised by this goddess, the way she moved in that dress, dear god that dress! it clung to her figure showing off her classic curves.

Each sway of her hips pulling the fabric a little higher, slowly revealing more of her thigh. Gemma found her eyes once more making their way from the killer heels, up perfectly shaped legs to the start of the red fabric which was now a little above mid thigh. She allowed her gaze to wander higher, up to those hips, moving seductively in time with the beat. That same beat which seemed to be pulsing inside her now, turning the warmth into a raging fire of desire and lust.

Never before had Gemma felt this aroused whilst out in public and certainly not for a stranger. Her eyes moved higher, noting the fabric creasing as it rode up, Gemma flicked a glance back down as she found herself thinking that if the dress rode much higher she would be able to see what panties this angel was wearing. Feeling a pang of disappointment as the dress was still too low, Gemma raised her eyes instead to the dangerously revealing neckline. There was nothing subtle here, the dress was designed with cleavage in mind and this angel had cleavage to show. Again the dress disappointed Gemma, it hinted and teased but did not fully reveal. Everything about this dress was designed perfectly, to titillate and excite.

Gemma looked higher and gasped in shock, her heart jack-hammering in her chest as she found herself making eye contact. Her face flushed and she imagined her face was redder than the dress she had been staring at. The Angel laughed aloud at Gemma's obvious discomfort, and to make it very clear she had noticed Gemma's longing gaze she gave a salacious wink and bowed slowly from her waist. Gemma could not help but stare as the Angel's breasts came so very close to breaking free. Still bent at the waist the Angel looked up and again made eye contact. A smile played on her lips as she again caught Gemma staring, causing her to flush red once more. Never had Gemma felt so self conscious and embarrassed. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Gemma could not break her gaze away from the Angel's sultry hazel eyes.

The Angel beckoned her over and she had no choice to obey, her feet were moving before she had a chance to change her mind. As the distance closed, Gemma studied this vision of beauty before her. Dark wavy hair that cascaded down to and over her shoulders. She stood at around five and a half feet tall in her heels, her hazel eyes smouldered and her full painted lips promised delights untold. Finally Gemma stood before her, the Angel leaned in and over the blaring music told Gemma her name 'Rachel'. Gemma was acutely aware of Rachel's body close to hers, and the heat that had been forgotten in her embarrassment flared once more. Gemma went to say her name in Rachel's ear but was surprised when Rachel turned her head and their lips met. Gemma pulled back in shock, but did not get far, as Rachel pulled her back into an embrace. The kiss was electric and the sudden passion threatened to overwhelm her.

Gemma let herself be led from the club, this was not like her at all. They moved into a doorway that offered a little privacy, Gemma tried to introduce herself again, but was again interrupted by a kiss. There was wanton abandon in the kiss, passion that could not be contained. Gemma ran her hands down Rachel's back, feeling her respond to her touch, lower she ran her hands as the kiss deepened. It was not only Gemma taking the opportunity for a little exploration, she moaned in pleasure against Rachel's lips as she felt her hand move up the inside of her thigh.


The touch was stoking the fire in her sex, Gemma pressed her lips harder against Rachel's, pulling her body closer. Rachel responded by running her fingers over Gemma's now wet panties, drawing a gasp of pleasure and one word from her lips, spoken in a husky whisper "pleeease". she was not disappointed as Rachel rubbed harder against her sex. Gemma moved her hips to maximise the pressure on her most sensitive node. She broke the kiss, gasping for breath, one hand pulling Rachel harder against her, the other tangled in her hair and as an orgasm ripped through her body. She gasped out her name in Rachel's ear before sagging, spent, against her. Peppering Rachel's lips with soft kisses, Gemma agreed instantly when Rachel said 'how about we head back to my place...."