Sven Sticks to His Guns

kult_model_Anton_Thiemke_6329

“So, you’re serious about this?” Stijn asked his younger brother, Sven while they were standing on Stijn’s balcony which overlooked the Hudson River.

“Yes, I am.  I’m madly in love with Nadira and I’m going to ask her to marry her.”

“What about Femke?”

“I don’t love her, Stijn.”

“Does she know that?”

“Of course, she does.  Long before I met Nadira, Femke suspected that I didn’t feel the same way about her.  And when I broke up with her, she was very upset but not surprised.”

“What about Mom and Dad?  You know that they’re going to have a huge problem with this.”

“Stijn, as much as I love our parents, I’m not going to let them interfere in my life.  I’ve made up my mind and there’s nothing they nor you or anyone else can do to change it.”

Stijn put his arm around his shoulders.  “I envy you,” he said.  “You were always very headstrong.  You always went after what you wanted and never let anything or anyone stop you.  You always stuck to your guns.  If marrying this woman is truly what you want, then go for it.  I wish you the best.”

Sven smiled.  “Thank you.  I hope that you will come to the wedding.  It would mean a lot to me.”

Stijn looked him in the eyes.  “If it means that much to you, I will be there.”

Sven hugged him.  “I’d better go.”

Stijn followed him into the foyer.  “Take care, little brother,” he said as he opened the front door.

“You too.”

Stijn watched him walk away before he closed the door.  Sven had guts.  He admired him for that.  He was thankful that, unlike Sven, he had fallen in love with a Dutch woman.

Nadira was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, daydreaming about Sven when the doorbell rang.  Scrambling to her feet, she went to answer the door.  She smiled broadly when she saw who it was and eagerly unlocked the door.  “Hello,” she said as she threw her arms around his neck.

Sven held her against him, his eyes intent on her upturned face.   “Hello,” he murmured before he lowered his head and kissed her.

They kissed for several minutes before she drew back.  “We’d better go inside.”

He released her and removed his denim jacket as she locked the door.  “I have something very important to ask you,” he informed her.

“What is it?”

He responded by getting down on one knee and taking her hand.  “Will you marry me?”

Nadira smiled through the tears.  “Yes,” was her choked reply.

After he slipped the ring on her finger, he got to his feet and cupping her face between his hands, he kissed every inch of her face before kissing her on the lips.  “I love you,” he murmured.

She put her arms around his waist and pressed against him.  “I love you too.”

As he kissed her, his heart almost bursting with the love he felt for her, he asked himself, how could his family have a problem with this?  As long as he was happy, shouldn’t that be all that really mattered?

 

Cyclone Randy

Afrocentric-Painter_434890C4-EE8A-415E-BD65-10521CC96842

I’m sitting here in a restaurant on the coast, hungry but still not sure of what to order.  I was alone.  It’s not often that I have dinner alone but this time was different.  After dating on and off, I decided to end my relationship with Derek.  Emotions weren’t involved in my decision.  I exercised perspicacious judgment.  The relationship wasn’t going anywhere so why prolong it?  Now we are both free to move on with our lives.

Tonight, I’m celebrating my freedom.  It feels great to be single again.  I studied the menu for several more minutes and then I finally signaled to the waiter that I was ready to order.  After he left the table, I closed the menu and was about to reach for my cell when he walked in with a woman I’ve never seen before.  I tried not to let seeing them together bother me.  Why should it?  I asked myself.  I hoped that he wouldn’t notice me.  Unfortunately, he did.  I braced myself as he headed over to my table with his lady friend in tow.

Trying to act calmer than I felt, I glanced up and smiled politely.  When he reached the table and was towering over me, I couldn’t help but think how sexy he looked in that black shirt and black jeans.  The little black cross nestled against his chest.  Realizing that I was staring, alarmed, my eyes flew up to his face.  A slight smile tugged at his lips.  Perhaps, it was my imagination but he looked a little smug to me.

“Good evening,” he said, his eyes flickering over me, making me feel hot and bothered.  Why did he have such an effect on me?  It has always been that way since we met a couple of years ago.  Derek introduced us.  I wonder if he knows as yet that we broke up.

“Good evening,” I replied.

“Are you dining alone?” he asked.

I raised my chin perceptibly.  “Yes.”  I was almost tempted to add that there was nothing wrong with a woman having dinner alone when I saw his eyebrows arch in surprise.

“How come Derek isn’t with you?”

Why did he have to ask about Derek?  I might as well tell him.  “He and I broke up.”

His expression changed and he stared at me for several minutes.  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said finally.

I shrugged.  “It’s for the best.”

He was about to say something else when his companion cleared her throat.  As if suddenly realizing that she was there.  He turned and drew her forward so that she was standing beside him.  “Bena, this is Angela.”

Bena looked at me.  She was very striking although I thought that the grey jersey dress she wore was too casual.  She looked me over before she held out her hand.  She didn’t look too pleased.  “Hello,” she said as we shook hands.

“Hello.”  After we shook hands, she placed her right hand on his shoulder and put her other arm around him.  I think she was letting me know in no uncertain terms that he was off limits.  My eyes shifted to him.  Again he had that smug smile on his face.  My fingers gripped the glass of water.  He was enjoying this.  Men.

Thankfully, just then the waiter came over with my order.  As he set the food down in front of me, Bena turned to me and said, “We will leave alone to enjoy your dinner.”  She turned to him and said, “Let’s go to our table now.”

He nodded before he said to me, “Good evening.”

“Good evening.”  We stared at each other for several minutes before he turned and walked away.

Their table was a couple of tables away from mine and by the window.  I tried to look everywhere except there as I tucked into my pan-fried Rainbow Trout dinner.  I wished they weren’t there.  I couldn’t really relax and enjoy my dinner.  I hardly tasted the Butternut Squash Pie which was one of my favorites.  As soon as I finished the last crumb, I signaled to the waiter.  After I paid the bill, I got up from my table.  I was tempted to walk out of the restaurant without saying goodbye but that would have been rude.  So, after adjusting my dress, I walked over to their table.

Of course, Bena wasn’t pleased at the intrusion but he stood up.  “I just wanted to say goodnight before I left,” I informed them.  I could feel him watching me and try as I did, I couldn’t resist looking at him.

“Goodnight, Angela,” he said.  “It was nice seeing you.”  His expression was serious this time and I wondered about that.

Bena didn’t answer.  She just inclined her head and as  I turned and walked away, I could feel her eyes digging into my back.  What was her problem?  Did she think I was after her man?  I shook my head at the idea.  Ridiculous.  I admit that I’m attracted to Randy Cloud but that doesn’t mean that I want to get involved with him.

Native Indian couple

I think about nothing else but him on the drive home.  I turn on the radio in the car to listen to some music but it doesn’t help.  Frustrated, I turn it off.  I roll down the window but soon roll it back up as the noise of traffic gets to me.

When I get home, I shower and fix myself a nightcap and relax on the sofa for a while.  As I sit there watching the television but not really paying much attention to it, I find myself wondering where Randy and Bena went after dinner.  Did he take her straight home or somewhere else first?  Were they going to spend the night together?  For Pete’s sake, why should what he does with Bena matter to me?

The phone rang.  I got up and answered it.  “Hello?”

“Hello, Angela.”

I nearly dropped the phone when I realized that it was Randy.  “Randy?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you calling me?”  I had to ask.

“Would you like to go out for drinks with me sometime when you’re not busy.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Randy?”

“Yes.”

“What about Bena?”

“Bena’s just a friend, nothing more.”

“It’s obvious that she wants to be more than friends.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“All right.  I guess there’s no harm in going out for a couple of drinks.”

“How about tomorrow evening around six?”

“Sure.  Do you have somewhere particular in mind?”

He mentioned a bar I’ve never heard of.  As long as it wasn’t somewhere Derek and I have been, I’m fine with it.

“All right, I’ll meet you there.”

“Great.  Have a good night, Angela.”

“You too, Randy.”

I hung up.  Why do I feel as if I’ve thrown myself in the path of an oncoming cyclone?  If I’m not careful, I could get swept away.

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for Saturday’s prompt, coast, Tuesday’s prompt, hungry, Wednesday’s prompt perspicacious and today’s prompt, cyclone. If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

A Love Too Strong/Threshold #writephoto

looking-out

Photo by Sue Vincent

They searched for the tribesman and the woman missionary.  They combed the beach, and searched the cave but there was no sign of them.  The only thing they found was a note the woman had written.  They gave it to her fiance.

A love too strong for us to deny

We leave this island behind

to embrace a new life out there

Some of you may ask why

would I forsake my own kind.

I love him, would be my reply.

And as long as we are together

I shall have nothing to fear.

The storms, with God’s help, we will weather.

 

Alan, I hope that one day you will find it in your heart forgive me.

Ella 

 

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Threshold at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Intoxicated

It was spring and I was at a party.  I was bored out of my mind and then, she walked in, a vision of incomparable beauty.   Our eyes met across the room and then she was making her way over to me.

In a soft, lilted voice, she introduced herself.  “Nora.”  Her lips parted to reveal even white teeth as she smiled and extended her hand.

“Theo,” I replied after I recovered from my shock.  Her fingers felt soft against mine and unable to resist, I raise her hand so that I could brush my lips ever so lightly on the back before releasing it.  Her eyes flickered over me, taking in the pinstriped suit, silk shirt and new tie before returning to my face which felt like it was on fire.  It was my turn to look her over.

Short hair in a style reminiscent of the roaring twenties, her exquisite neck covered in a white beaded necklace, a low-cut black dress which fell to her ankles and a high slit, revealed a shapely right leg.  Her skin was rich and dark and smooth.  I longed to touch it.  My eyes darted back up to her face.  “You like what you see?” she asked coyly.

“Yes!” was my immediate and impassioned response.  I was high as a kite but not from the glass of wine in my hand, mind you.  She intoxicated me, making my mind soar with all sorts of delicious thoughts.  “May I get you a drink?”  To be quite honest, I would have preferred to take her somewhere else for a drink.

“Sure, I’ll have what you’re having.”

I promptly excused myself and five minutes later, returned with a glass of Chardonnay.  I was rewarded with a lovely smile which made my heart flutter and my knees weak.

“Thank you,” she said as she took the glass.  Our fingers touched.  Ethan Theodoros Theodoridis

“You’re welcome,” I replied, sounding a tad breathless.  No woman has ever had such an effect on me before.  It was thrilling and terrifying.

We spent the evening together, getting to know each other and then, after we finished our wine, I asked her if she wanted us to leave and go for dinner.  I hadn’t eaten since lunch and was starving.  The food at this shindig didn’t look at all appetizing.  Besides, I just wanted to get out of there.

She readily agreed and in a few minutes, we were in my car heading to my favorite restaurant by the pier.  Over linguine, large spicy meatballs and more wine, we talked and laughed and had a great time.  It was the beginning of what I know will turn out to be a beautiful and exciting relationship.

 

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for yesterday’s prompt, spring and today’s prompt, Kite. If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

The Kiss

wk-99-anathema


Although things have changed over the years, seeing couples like Daniel and me is still anathema for some people.  There are times when we’re walking down the sidewalk and people stare at us.  Yesterday afternoon, when a woman was glaring at us, Daniel stopped suddenly and kissed me.  Red-faced, she marched off.

52 Words

This is for the Weekend Writing Prompt by Sammi Cox. For instructions, click HERE.

Robbed

skyelar-lifestyle019pp_w1000_h666_0

In a haze of smoke, she appeared

unexpectedly, like a thief in the night,

beautiful, exotic and mysterious.

She came towards me as in a dream.

I stood there, helpless, unable to resist.

I wanted to run away but I couldn’t move.

 

Closer she came, her thick dark hair

flowing about her exquisite face.

I reach out to touch her but she’s gone.

I wake up to an dark and empty room.

I’m alone in bed, drenched in sweat,

my heart pounding, yearning for her–

the woman who has robbed me of my

sleep, my mind and my heart.

 

young man waking up at night

 

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for today’s prompt, thief. If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

Role-Play

young-african-woman-with-red-turban-over-gray-background

My name is Ezra and I’m an Angolan woman married to Francisco, a Portuguese businessman.  We have been married for ten years.  We have two children, a boy named Bento and a girl named Mafalda.  We live in Luanda.  During the week, I’m at home alone because Rodrigo is at the office and the children are in school.  I’m a housewife and I love it.  I love taking care of my family.

From the time I was seven years old, I knew that I wanted to be a homemaker when I was older.  My mother, God bless her soul, was my inspiration.  I watched her work tirelessly and happily to take care of the home, my father, my siblings and me.  When I was old enough, I helped around the house.  She taught me how to cook and keep a clean house.  She told me that one day I would be a wife and it was best to start learning how to do things as early as possible.  Sadly, she didn’t live to see me get married or hold her grandchildren.  My father and my siblings were at my wedding.  They were happy for me and warmly welcomed Rodrigo into the family.  They weren’t upset that I married a European man instead of an African man.

Rodrigo and I met when I was working as a cook at a restaurant owned by a family friend.  He came in there one day to have lunch with a client.  After having my Fish Calulu, he wanted to meet me to personally compliment me on the dish.  Feeling a little self-conscious after being in the hot kitchen all morning and not having enough time to fix myself up, I went into the dining-room.  He stood up as I approached.  He was tall and very attractive in his expensive looking grey suit.  I was immediately attracted to him.  He smiled and said in Portuguese, “I wanted to personally tell how much I enjoyed the Fish Calulu.  It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

I smiled shyly.  “Thank you.”

His client had left so we were alone.  “My name is Rodrigo,” he said, extending his large hand.  I looked at it before placing my hand in it.  The long fingers closed over mine in a firm handshake.

“I’m Ezra.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ezra.  I wonder if you would like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

I gulped.  He was asking me out on a date.  I could hardly believe it.  It took a moment for me to say, “Yes.”

“Good.  I’ll meet you here at eight.  “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”  I watched him leave and then returned to the kitchen.

The following night we went for dinner at a popular Portuguese restaurant.  Afterwards, we went for a drive.  We saw each other regularly after that and the following year, we got married.  I quit my job at the restaurant after learning that I was pregnant with Bento.

Life with Rodrigo ideal.  Our sex life is amazing  and sometimes, we indulge in role play which add a little spice to the marriage.  Lately, I have been dressing up as a slave girl while he pretends to be my slave master.   But this is happening way too often.  He wants to do it for every lovemaking session.

Last night, he pulled my dress down about my waist and turned me around so that my bare back was to him and had me hug the bedpost.  He got the whip he had bought from one of those sex stores and started to use it on me.  It didn’t hurt but Rodrigo wanted me to pretend that it did.  When he was done, he dragged the dress off and threw me down on the bed.  I lay there while he ravaged me, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if this nightmare would ever end.  What had started out as harmless fun had become something I dreaded and desperately wanted to stop.  I wanted to be his wife and lover again not his slave.

I’m sitting here in the kitchen, staring out at the window.  I have made up my mind to tell Rodrigo that I’m not going to be his slave in the bedroom anymore.  And if he cares about me and our marriage, he will respect my wishes.  Worst case scenario, I will pack up and leave.  And of course, take Bento and Mafalda with me.

Hours later, I’m in the bedroom and Rodrigo walks after taking a long, hot shower.  He’s stark naked and by the looks of him, he’s in the mood.  I’m standing by the bed, wearing one of my nightgowns.  The slave girl garb was tossed in the garbage along with the whip.  I was very determined not to subject myself to that again.  Before he could say anything, I said, “Rodrigo, I’m Ezra, your wife, not your slave girl.  I don’t ever want to play that role again.  I didn’t mind doing it the first few times but you want to do it every time and it’s no longer fun for me.  It has become degrading.  I refuse to do it any more.”

topless male

Rodrigo stared at me.  Silence filled the room and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for him to say something.  He came over to me and putting his hands on my shoulders, he said as his eyes met mine.  “Me desculpe, querida.  I’m sorry.  I should have realized that this particular type of role playing would affect you.  It was very insensitive of me.  Please forgive me.”

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave and I hugged him around the waist and buried my face in his chest.   He will never know how close I came to leaving him if he had not respected my wishes.

Role-play in marriages is healthy and exciting but make sure that both of you are having fun. Never indulge in role-play which will demean or devalue either of you.

%d bloggers like this: