• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

The White Room

Go to CruxDreams.com
As I wait for him to come, because he will come, I can’t stop thinking about the past months and the promise we made to each other. I look at myself in the white light of the room; look at my body on the cotton sheets. I think about the past and the future and how time passes and the time we lose and the time we forget. I think about summer days by the beach and the sand and the sea. I think about the day I came to the house and the day I will leave it.

Perhaps he won’t come back to the room. Perhaps she will come instead and ask me to go to the room downstairs where he will be waiting. Sometimes I feel so alone in this empty space with just the bed and the walls and the shutters and the sun. But then I think about him and about her and I know that this is the right place to be and that everything I have left behind and everyone I have left behind do not matter. I think of the sea and my brother and sister and the beach and of her and the things we did, but that was then and then is in the past and it does not matter. I can feel my mouth forming into the shape of a smile as I look up at the ceiling. I am thinking of last night and the things we agreed together that he did to me, or perhaps I am piecing together the ideas of the things that he has agreed that he will do. I wish she would come up the stairs and lie next to me so I could touch her hair and tell her everything. But perhaps she already knows.
 
CUT



“You like her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. That’s why I asked her.”

“Why did she come? I mean... does she...know?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, what you’re going to do.”

“Oh, yeah. That. Well, sort of. Yes. Of course.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah. We talked. That’s enough. She knows.”

“Really? You told her everything?”

“Didn’t you? I thought you would.”



CUT


“Last night, I mean, was that like, well, a test?”

“No.”

“So, I mean, what was it?”

“We both wanted it.”

“So why didn’t you stay and sleep with her then?”

“Because I wanted you to fuck me.”

“And her?”

“She’s different. You know that. She’s special.”

“You think so?”

“You know she is.”


CUT


“Does she really get it?”

“She gets it.”

“Really? I mean like everything. Like that’s it?”

“She gets it.”

“If you say so. Are you so sure?”

“Yes. We’ve talked. She gets it.”

“OK”

“You don’t believe me? She gets it, OK?”

“Like I said...”

“It really is what she wants.”

“What you want?”

“What we both want. Really. Really it is.”

“ ”


CUT
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Please come upstairs. Both of you. My long dark hair lies on the pillow. I am half in and half out of the sheet. Half afraid but half bold. My left leg is bare and showing over the side of the bed in invitation. A little of my hip also shows till the soft sheet covers my tummy and tits. My shoulders are propped up and while one arm covers my right side the other is open, in invitation. I am 19. A pioneer waiting to discover....
 
Celticvirgin said:
Please come upstairs. Both of you. My long dark hair lies on the pillow. I am half in and half out of the sheet. Half afraid but half bold. My left leg is bare and showing over the side of the bed in invitation. A little of my hip also shows till the soft sheet covers my tummy and tits. My shoulders are propped up and while one arm covers my right side the other is open, in invitation. I am 19. A pioneer waiting to discover....
Click to expand...
Someone is coming... be ready... they may have a rope or a kiss or a breast to lie against. You don't know. They know. They will kiss you XXXXX
 
I am ready. The window is open and i hear birds singing outside. Somewhere a milkman is delivering. I know by the clink of glass. It is a perfect Early Summer morning.
I hear you talking downstairs. Earnestly but in your soft Dutch voice. There is a man with you. I think to myself and pull down the edge of the soft cotton sheet to expose the side of my breast for you both to see. I turn my head away from the door. Music from a radio plays In Your Life by The Beatles. I remember a show on tv my older cousin liked. I wait, for a creak on the wooden stairs. A tear fills my left eye and rolls down my cheek. I dont rub it away.
 
FROM - CUT


“My room is light. The walls are a deep red, like bulls blood. I like to sleep alone. Sometimes I like to sleep with her, but not every night. I love being alone. I have been with him a long time. I enjoy him and he enjoys me. We understand. We know. I don’t mind her. I don’t mind him bringing her here. I like her. She’s lovely. She wants to be here. He’s told her. She knows. It’s her choice. I understand that. If I was her, maybe I would make that choice. I like lying with her. Why not? She likes it too. I guess that’s ok. We don’t talk that much. But sometimes I ask her. She knows. It’s ok. I worried once about him, but she knows. I think that’s ok. Maybe someone else wouldn’t. She is happy, and I think we all just want to be happy. At least a little happy. Maybe. Because that isn’t too much to ask. And I know by now that it can be all sorts of things and lots of different things that can make people happy. That’s what I think, anyway.”


CUT
 
Celticvirgin said:
I am ready. The window is open and i hear birds singing outside. Somewhere a milkman is delivering. I know by the clink of glass. It is a perfect Early Summer morning.
I hear you talking downstairs. Earnestly but in your soft Dutch voice. There is a man with you. I think to myself and pull down the edge of the soft cotton sheet to expose the side of my breast for you both to see. I turn my head away from the door. Music from a radio plays In Your Life by The Beatles. I remember a show on tv my older cousin liked. I wait, for a creak on the wooden stairs. A tear fills my left eye and rolls down my cheek. I dont rub it away.
Click to expand...
Lovely - just what I want you to feel... really... Never rub it away....
 
CUT AGAIN AND GO UP A FLOOR


He’s still not come. Maybe he will later. I want him to and I want to be alone and I want her to come and to spread her red hair over my face. I want that so much. But I suppose it doesn’t matter because I have agreed. He told you that I suppose, when you spoke to him. Or maybe she told you. Because they both know. I don’t know what they think but I am sure about everything. I am sure I am. I am looking again at my wrists and my ankles and I know it’s what I want. Because I have dreamt about it for so long and I asked him and he said yes. And so I know it will be the way I want it to be, whatever you think.


CUT AGAIN AND PAUSE
 
I know now i am amongst friends. I have messed the position of the sheets. It doesnt matter now. I lie my face in the pillow and listen to the house and outside. When he or she comes i will wake. I look at my wrist and flex it. The radio keeps playing. A waltz comes on and reminds me of a light classical station at home. Lyric FM. I breath in deeply and sigh in contentment. I have no more fear of here. Que sera sera. :)
 
It’s strange sometimes when I am alone. I’m alone now on the bed in the room that is so insistently white. I think while I am waiting for him to come, or for her to come. I remember that day after they left me, or I left them. When I went to the beach one night alone and the moon was shining white on the black of the ocean and the stars were in their millions in the dark of the sky and I leant on the old, rusted railing and felt the summer heat and the humid air salting on my skin. I remember the sailors, the black one and the two others in their white uniforms and how they came and stood by me. How we smiled to each other and how all the stars in the sky shone more brilliantly still and how the music from the bar drifted across the sound of the slow surf and how they came closer. I remember how we joked and laughed and how we knew that this was one of those special nights when the gods are smiling and how we all went together to the hotel behind the boardwalk and how we lay together and talked and kissed and it was neither me nor them and how we shared each other. But that was then and now I am alone in the white room and I am waiting.

He will come. She came before, I remember she came. Maybe it was earlier or maybe it was yesterday. My eyes had been shut tight but I felt her breath and they opened and her hair was a waterfall of red over my legs and my body burned as her tongue discovered me slowly and then she rose up and lay over me and our bodies trembled and our lips kissed and then she was gone. But I will always remember her as much as I will always remember the night when the stars over the ocean turned to diamonds.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
My cousin has a share in a house in Sardinia that is by the sea. It is like many houses all painted white inside and yellow outside. I remember when i was 16 going for a late swim one evening in July. I stripped off my shorts and got out of my flip flops leaving them in a pile on the beach. Diving in the water in my bikini i floated on my back in the warm Mediterranean and looked up at the stars as dusk came. Where were the guys that night? Now i would love to be back there.
Beautiful PK. :bdsm-heart:
 
I look at the marks on my wrists from the night before. I know what he’s going to do. He asked me and I agreed. I want him to do these things to me. He asked me and I kissed him and said yes. He looked and me and touched me and kissed me on the lips and I knew we had agreed. I knew this was what I wanted from that day when I stood on the beach and saw the girl with the red hair and stepped into his car and sat on the leather bench seat that was a faded red. Maybe it was what I had always wanted. I remember sitting with my brother and sister and listening as the priest said the words of the Mass and the light through the turned the white columns of the church a brilliant blue and green and red and gold. Perhaps it was then, or maybe it was some other time. I look at my ankles and the marks on them and I can’t remember and I know it doesn’t matter because he will come and we will keep our promise together.
 
pkindenhaag said:
I look at the marks on my wrists from the night before. I know what he’s going to do. He asked me and I agreed. I want him to do these things to me. He asked me and I kissed him and said yes. He looked and me and touched me and kissed me on the lips and I knew we had agreed. I knew this was what I wanted from that day when I stood on the beach and saw the girl with the red hair and stepped into his car and sat on the leather bench seat that was a faded red. Maybe it was what I had always wanted. I remember sitting with my brother and sister and listening as the priest said the words of the Mass and the light through the turned the white columns of the church a brilliant blue and green and red and gold. Perhaps it was then, or maybe it was some other time. I look at my ankles and the marks on them and I can’t remember and I know it doesn’t matter because he will come and we will keep our promise together.
Click to expand...

the magic of promises ...
 
The colours that drifted over those white columns fill my eyes. The room is monochrome. I am thinking of the next day. I think it will be the next day. He’s told me about the place; out of town, away from the beach and the sea. I’ll be sad to see the ocean as we drive along the highway. Into the scrub and the desert and taking the road south. To the place he’s spoken about. The shallow valley with the stunted oaks and the dust track that leads to the old farmstead. He’s told me about the sandy way and how in the evening the light turns purple and the ground glows orange and how the birds shreek as the moon rises over the hills. And I am waiting for him to come and lift me and carry me to the car with the leather bench seat that’s a faded red and to hear the engine start and to turn and glance one last time at the white walls of the house and to look for her eyes in the window above the doors to the garden and to wonder if she’s pushing away her red hair that’s fallen over her face.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom