"Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet"

Life changes quickly. It's almost unfortunate sometimes that we have to change with it. 

From friends to lovers to awkward acquaintances, back to friends and then just two people wishing for the past to come back. Changes in relationships are possibly some of the worst things in my life, especially when emotion is involved. 

Right now feels like one of those times, although I can't pinpoint why...Anyway, this next piece attempts to capture it all by playing off of my uncertainty and blending it with some Fall Out Boy lyrics. 

"Lovers" by Slagophoto

“Pete Rose”

(It's a story about cheating. Get it?)

            I walk into the room. You’re splayed out on the couch, begging me to come closer. “C’mon,” you whisper, “have a taste.” You lick your lips and the universe leans in to catch my response.

            “Sounds delicious,” I state with a smirk. Give up on conscious thoughts. I’ve no need for my brain. All I want is to become closer to who you are—lie closer to you. And so I creep closer. I straddle you and cuddle you. Like a drug addict, my conscience must’ve gone out the window with the intoxicating feel of your lips against mine; the alluring smell of that perfume you shower in before each of our meetings.

            My mind’s stuck on the possibility of getting inside…inside that mind of yours. But I swear I wouldn’t…I shouldn’t…I couldn’t…I can’t seem to resist your charm. Your naked body against mine. Your warm breath against my neck and soft voice urging me on. All of it sends me into a fervor. “Harder…” You gasp. “I want it rough.” I attend only to your needs, for my thoughts are concerned with the longevity of this affair.

            I groan in pleasure but know I come second in this two man race for your love.

            After all, does your husband know what we do? Does he see our heated embrace in your eyes each night? Does he…Does he even know the words that could stop me cold?

            You promised he hurt you, that he means nothing,  and you need something new. Still, I have to promise myself that I’ll never fall into this trap. Oh, how I love you…I need you…I want you, but I could never end up like him. Although, probably, behind my back I already have…

            Now you sigh with that layer of sweat upon your skin. No doubt you’re now thinking about him… “That was great!” you exclaim with a smile before thrusting once more oh so teasingly. A smile is drawn upon my face with the ecstasy held tightly between our loins.

            A car door slams outside. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be home for another few hours,” I start with terror.

            “I…He wasn’t supposed to be. I don’t know what’s going on.” Fear enters your eyes as you hand me back my clothes. “Here put these on. I’ll distract him while you sneak out.” I know the routine, but it always stings to hear it come from you each time.

            “Tempest in a teacup” for lack of a better phrase. The chaos that follows reminds me of a race to escape death. “Jess! I’m home!” your husband yells in the next room over. The way you clean up…You’d think he’d suspect something…Why be with someone so dense, hun? Why…Why…Why…Have you ever thought that maybe you peaked early?

            He’s seduced as he comes through the door. I can almost hear the sound of his fingers sliding against your soft skin, his lips colliding with yours. It makes me sick. Does he even understand what’s happened? Can he guess the words that I long to hear?

            No, he can’t…How could he understand our love when he doesn’t even know I exist? And, so, I creep out the back, wondering if it’s all worth it.

            I swore I wouldn’t end up like him. Yet, in a sick, sad way, I already have. You cheat him for me but still cheat me for him. Just know that I’ll still be here. (I’m not going anywhere.) But next time be sure to keep a calendar—this way you’ll know the next he’ll come through. No matter how long it takes…Oh, darling, just know that I understand what you’re going through.

Fate drives me.

~Chris

Too far

"Lust-filled Thoughts"

Slavery encapsulates this moment. Her hand lies under mine. Two hearts beat in sync. Sweet air wafts to and fro. Still I am a slave to her eyes, those dark eyes, as we stare at each other with sudden attraction.

A quiver shocks her lips as the slow seconds pass. Mine seem to mock the motion as I wait, unknowingly wanting something more. “Kiss me,” she says with the sweetest of smiles. Very briefly the picture of me committing the act flashes through my mind. Without commanding myself to do so, I lean forward. Our lips meet for the first time at the center of the space between us.

Minutes pass, or elongated seconds...my mind cannot distinguish the former from the latter. So delicate but firm, her lips thrill me in a novel way.

Suddenly her fingers move from beneath mine; she grabs my hand. My heart flutters continuously. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never felt this good before. Now she kisses me harder as she places my hand atop her breast. “Touch me,” she gives a breathy whisper between pleasurable assaults upon my lips. Once again I comply.

Air around us becomes still, unnoticeable. Her body squeezes hard against mine, my hand rubbing harder against her breast. A soft moan escapes her lips as she pulls away from my lips. She’s breathing hard, and I can hear each breath as her mouth nears my ears.

“Fuck me,” she whispers softly. But I stop. My hand leaves her breast. I pull my head back. Once again, I’m staring deep into her beautifully dark eyes. I see what she wants. If the words had not fled from her lips, the answer would have easily been shared through the look she gives me.

“No,” I say softly, catching my breath. Confusion fills her expression.

“Why not?” Disappointment saturates her tone.

“Some things shouldn’t be so easy. Waiting seems better than rushing,” I utter without thought. Now anger slowly engulfs her dark eyes.

“Fine! Be like that!” she yells before stomping out of the room in a fit of rage. My fingers touch my lips in attempt to feel once more the pleasure she had given me at the start. In my mind, I relive the short encounter once more.

Why couldn’t something so simple be enough?

Fate drives me.

~Chris

Fiction Reemerges From the Ashes of Life

photo by unknown photographer

My name is Christopher Shorten, although many of you may have come to know me as "Alex Arlington" (the main character of my two unpublished novels).

It's been over two years since I started this blog by introducing Quinton and I and our innitial writing projects. Since then, I've been criminalized for the material I've posted on this blog, come to love a girl I've seriously wronged, watched our viewership skyrocket, and lost my best friend to tragic times. All-in-all...it's been a hell of a two years, and I hope you all have enjoyed it, because I'm just getting started. After a long hiatus, I am back with new material and a new outlook on the future. 

Out of my new revelation has come some interesting ideas, but this next piece concentrates on an older idea. If you're familiar with my writing, then you're familiar with the contrast I pose between lust and love. In essence, I think the contrast fuels much of my social ideology, but I'll let my words speek for me once more

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Love, tell me lies. I want you near."

“Sing for me,” she whispers so sweetly unto my ear. The chill of her candied breath shakes my sleepless mind. “Tell me what you think. I want to know, everything.”

“I’m not so sure,” I mutter, enjoying the constant flow of her breath behind me as we stand under a massive archway. No crowd passes. No birds chirp. Alone, in silence and peace we stand, and there we stay. “Will you still feel the same?”

“Won’t you sing for me? Solely of all the beauty you’ve seen in me, in this place.”
“But beauty can’t be seen, only felt. For what purpose should I sing of a feeling?” She wraps her delicate arms around my neck, over my shoulders. Delicate, soft, and tan, her hands grasp each other upon my chest as her lips crawl closer toward my ear.
“But the feeling has been felt, no doubt. What could be so bad about singing what your heart knows true?”
“But...But...” I stammer, “my heart has yet to know you...”
“Surely it has!” she exclaims softly still. “Your body has known me several times. The heart is of the body.”
“But the body is not of the soul,” I interject
“Then throw it aside.” She nibbles upon my ear so delicately that a shiver comes once more. I can swear the birds have upstarted yet again, for surely angels must be singing a tune in my favor.
“You are stubborn, but lovely; sexy, yet flawed.”
“Thank you, now sing,” she tempts me still, but the words fail to come.
“I cannot.”
“Surely...”
“I cannot! I cannot! I cannot! Must you hear it three times more?!” Her lips back away from my tender ear.
“Not even for me?”
“My heart, and I alike, have yet to know you, so what could you possibly mean?” Her arms retreat and she steps ‘round to twelve o’ clock. She’s lovely, but holds nothing for a man without lust.
“Am I not the fairest?” she states with a cute expression.
“A goddess you may be, but beauty escapes you,” I sing out, bringing red to her face. Embarrassment follows my words but a fury covers her face all the same.
“If you must be so base!” She slaps me with a toughened hand without hesitation. I take the blow, hold my ground. Not pride, but assurance grasps my soul as I stare plainly into her wanting eyes. “I shall leave.”
“You were never here anyways,” I mutter. With that, she fades to the air and my people return, walking through the archway and around the world, alive before my eyes. The birds sing and the cherubs greet me with the sight of love. “Nora,” I whisper as she replaces the former entity.
“Tom,” she whispers as tears mark her face; she runs to embrace me. I hold her tight; for I’ve known her many times before. “Will you sing for me?”
“Always,” I whisper into her ear. “My heart is yours to keep; my sins, yours to destroy. Just never leave. I’ll be all you’ll ever need.” A gust erupts to mark the sore ear left by the goddess. In her voice, it whimpers still:
“Why couldn’t I be her?”

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Next week will bring new posts from the other writers still on staff (a few have left our group during my hiatus). If you have any questions, comments, etc. feel free to leave them below, and I'll respond quickly. Until next time, my unknown friends.

Fate drives me.

Christopher A. Shorten

Believing Atrocities

My heart stops and I see the light, or maybe something worse...
My hips stop and the situation makes her cum first...
Problems fade but the past never forgets,
except for her no longer being among my regrets.

“Hermosa,” I whisper as her body shows upon my dreams.
But failure, by name, is what time continually sings;
For her heart stays in a safe, protected and secure
while I wait, her beauty as a lost lure.

“Show me your tragedy,” she mutters under me.
I can’t help but find words that are less than free.
“No, beautiful, show me your scars,” I state
she’ll be gone from here at this rate.

Now she snuggles close; I treasure her touch.
All that I could ever want from her isn’t much.
No, just her smile is all I want to ask for,
the pure essence before lustful torture.

She shivers and the blanket now covers.
Forever, I want us to be more than lovers.
“Give me your heart, and I’ll give answers,”
drops words from those lips of hers.

“I gave it to you long ago,” I think, but don’t tell.
“You’ve never had to ask!” I want to yell.
Her face buries deep into my comfortable chest
as if she had already known all the rest.

“Will you give me yours?” I finally ask.
“That seems like such a hard task,”
She finally answers me back
but my heart goes off track.

Start again my loathsome adrenaline.
I’ll wish to forever be your friend again,
If you keep my words constant and still
against my stupid, destructive will.

~Alex

Lovely Liars

Anora Anakaya is having a bit of writers block, so I (your friendly-neighborhood-demon-of-greed) have decided to use this opportunity to post a newer poem before I start a new project tomorrow. Both today and tomorrow's posts go along with the Valentine's theme that this week has focused on in the United States. While this poem focuses on a type of haunted indecision born from love unrealized, tomorrow's goes with the reality and hope surrounding such an event. So, don't miss out!

Anyways, enough rambling from me. If you haven't already skipped to the poem, here it is:

______________________________\(^-^)/______________________________

“Indecision, my love...You ruin me with indecision...”

I.

Cry, Cry, bend and cry.

Bow, complain, and die.

Give me hate, or sorrow...

Take my life tomorrow.

II.

Words like these give up and go home.

Guts like these tire, dry up and die.

Who can I be? There’s the myst’ry!

Life, naive and tame, still must end.

Maybe I’ve fallen for you.

Pos’bly my heart knows secrets.

Let Alex come to light just once;

For greed may now seek justice.

III.

“Tomorrow, worlds will be bright.

Tomorrow, I’ll be alright.”

“Tomorrow,” my tone will sing.

Simply, let Big Brother ring.

Poems of old have gone dry.

Their ideas now kill reason.

Yet, still, I read them through.

But still, I can’t find reason.

IV.

Memories call you “my love”.

Emotions should say nothing.

I gave you up long ago;

She continues to scream away.

My head still must pound away.

Love should still be meaningless.

Please, just leave me here alone.

These sins, I will never miss.

...but I'll hold your hand until the end; for you're sweeter than life itself

~Alex.

~Edited by Sharon