The Power of Touch

The power of touch

Textures are everywhere:

I ran my fingers over the raised surface, it's unusually soft and yet rough at the same time. Takes me a little while to place it, of course, it's that new soft touch velcro that’s being used more on outdoor clothing, continuing I feel the smooth, shiny surface of the coat, the material yields easily under my touch capitulating under even a light pressure. Pressing firmer, I can feel the body beneath, warm, strong though still wrapped in a soft puffy down jacket. My hands move up feeling his muscles as they contract beneath my touch. Reaching his shoulder, I can feel his breath on my face, warm moist it takes on a life of its own, tickling my cheek, teasing my mouth. I feel up his neck, the course stubble on his neck prickling my fingertips, as I move from the relative softness of his neck and onto his hard jaw. Feeling along his jaw, I move quickly now towards his rough weather-beaten lips. Lips soft, yet slightly cracked with small hard, rough ridges, I make a mental note to buy him some vaseline for Christmas.

I jump as I feel his touch, his brushing my face briefly as moves his hand to my hair. His digits are raking my hair tugging pulling slightly. I gasp as hi other hand winds around my waist, fingertips pressing into my soft flesh through my thin clothes.

I continue my exploration of his face, tracing his cheeks, around his eyes, thick hairy eyebrows. Damp, clammy skin of his forehead as my fingers slip under his woollen hat, searching for his short hair. I slid off the warm slightly itchy hat, running my fingers through his soft hair.

Succulent, moist lips press onto my neck as he plants a kiss, pulling my onto him now. Our bodies press hard together, crushing bruising soft flesh. The cold air on my back a contrast to the warmth from our union rising between us on contact. I shudder, a mix of cold and excitement. In one quick, smooth move, he flips us both, so I am now on the bottom, the hard floor pressing against my back.

Separating briefly he sits up, removing his outdoor layers a wave of heat escaping from his coat, rushing over me, warm air mingling with the chill from the draughty windows.

Moist, rough lips press against my soft wet lips, firm tongue pressing into my mouth. Tongues are wrestling as they explore each other's mouths, I run my tongue along his teeth feeling the smooth surface, the dents between teeth noticeable only if it concentrate.

His weight pressing down on me now, crushing my breasts, the floor pressing back sandwiching me. My hands run across his back, one down over his rough outdoor trousers. The other up over his stretchy, smooth wicking shirt, I wonder about the colour. Only briefly as my hand slips inside, warm skin meets my fingers, pulling away slightly from my gentle touch. His wet lips on my jaw now, moving down my neck, teasing. As his hand tug at my blouse, buttons yielding quickly. Falling open exposing my breast to the chilly breeze, I press myself closer to his chest, desperate to feel his heat. I don't have to wait long, his warm kiss moving down my chest towards my breasts. Rough hand in the small of my back, fingers slip into my bra fiddling with the clasp, springing it open. Rough skin, grazing my delicate skin as his fingers pass into my bra. Fingers are rubbing exciting my breasts, pinching my nipples, rolling them gently.

He stops pulls away; I lean towards him, my body desperate for his touch his warmth. He sits me up removes my blouse and bra, what else if he doing.

Lowering me gently I feel the now cold lining of his jacket, which he has spread on the hard cold stone floor. I realise how hard and cold the floor had been in just my blouse. My trousers now feel tight, course brushing against my legs, he must have sensed what I was thinking, as his hands are at my waistband now, fumbling with its fastenings. Hands sliding into my trousers, sliding them down over my hips, my shoulders press into the floor as he gently lifts my hips.

As he straddled me, I realised he had removed his trousers also, his firm thighs brushing against my own soft thighs. Friction building causing heat as the flesh rubbed together. Only the thin silky material of my knickers now moist, crushing my swollen engorged lips.  

Our bodies tingle as they touch, electricity seeming to run through us.

We make love there on the floor.

Five Items

Five items

That's it all packed, only a small bag, but that's all we are allowed. Sorry, I should explain, I’m off on a trip, no idea where other than its warm. I’ve been selected for a new TV show, a group of strangers on a deserted island, surviving, for 6 months. I know it's not everyone’s cup of tea, but I can’t wait.

I have been watching Bear Grylls for years, I have learned so much. How to filter water through my socks, not nice but could save your life so worth it. I now know how to catch fish using only natural materials and my own wits. I’ve read books too, lots of bushcraft and survival books. The main problem is as we don’t know where we are going, it's hard to know what plants and animals we will encounter, would make it easier if we at least knew what continent we were on.

We are all allowed 5 items, as well as two complete changes of clothes and that's it, oh, and it must all fit in a 10-litre bag. There are certain things we are not allowed like electronic devices, not that they would work anyway. Other contraband items include tobacco, cooking stoves, camp beds and alcohol. We get issued with knives, so we don’t need to take those, though I was tempted, seen some good ones.

I’ve a had a few months to think about it, and have done my research. So this is what I have.

1. Mini saw you know the wire type one, folds down to virtually nothing and fits in my pocket. We are bound to need to cut wood. We will need firewood, might need to build a shelter, beds who knows what else.
2. Fire lighting kit, contains fire steel, char cloth, cotton wool and Vaseline. We are going to need to light fires, I mean we will need to cook, maybe signal, perhaps even keep warm.
3. Multi-season sleeping bag with mosquito net built in, I love this sleeping bag, it has loads of zipped ventilation slots. It's also when the slots are closed waterproof. The base is great as it got a built in feathered mattress. I hope it's not considered a camp bed.
4. Paracord, after a lot of thought I decided that 500 meters of Paracord was worth the weight. I mean I can use it for so many things, from lashing and tying to making nets or even snares. It's strong, durable seems perfect.
5. My last item, well it was simple really, maybe a bit of a cheat. My survival book, well we will need knowledge, and although I have read the book several times, it will be useful to refer too. Others can use it too, so should help the whole group.

So hopefully that's me ready, I have undertaken a bushcraft course, learned all about foraging and surviving. I can’t wait.

The Snowman

Snowman

He stood

Tall Proud

Powerful

His Chest Firm

Against the Cold

He was created

For this weather

Built for the cold

Broad Shoulders

Chiseled chin

Red Scarf

Round his neck

Old hat

On his head

He didn't feel

The icy wind

The biting cold

Wasn't worried

As fresh snow fell

But now alone

Forgotten

Unloved

School open

Once more

His feet wet

His back warm

In winter sun

Hat lost

Scarf dropped

Sun warming

Ice melting

Puddles forming

Snowman Dead

Tattoo

Tattoo

Beth hated tattoos, at least that's what she had always claimed. Tattoos were for sailors, prisoners and prostitutes. I suppose her strong views were not a surprise after all her strict church upbringing had not left space for much in the way of tolerance or fun for that matter. So why how had she come to be sitting here now.

Beth looked around the small shop it wasn’t exactly as she had imagined it would be, had she in fact ever imagined or thought about how a tattoo shop might look, no probably not. I suppose if she had been asked to describe one it might have been along the lines or dirty, sleazy, dark, so far from the truth. This shop, however, was far from all of those things. The traditional Georgian frontage of the shop opened up into an opulent waiting area filled with deep pink and purple velvet sofas, a real dark wood floor clean and well polished. Dotted around the room were low occasional tables all heaving under the weight of quality leather bound photograph albums, all embossed with different names in gold. On one side of the door a wooden counter that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Dickensian apothecary, small drawers filled with exotic unknown goodies. The walls covered in rich flocked wallpaper in vibrant, but rich purple. On the walls hung paintings like no others she had ever seen before, each seemed almost alive as if it would jump out of the frame. At the back of the room four doors as equally attractive as the rest of room, each painted a different shade of purple with a small gold plaque in the centre of the door.

“Wow this is more like a luxury spa than a tattoo shop,” She said out loud without realising. The voice that replied made her jump.

“Good morning Madam, we do pride ourselves on our differential service.” Turning Beth saw a young woman dressed in what she guessed was a uniform dress, almost like a Victorian nanny’s uniform in navy with white peter pan collar and cuffs. “At Tickled Ink We offer something special, how may  help you?”

Beth opened her mouth, but nothing came out, god why did this always happen to her. The young woman had walked from behind the counter and was at Beth's side now, Reaching out she placed a hand near Beth's back.

“Maybe a drink would help you feel at home, can I get you Tea or a Coffee” he guided Beth to one of the plush sofas. Beth sank into it allowing the sofa to embrace her. Looking up at the girl she studied her small round face edged perfectly with a neat brown bob.

“Yes please, Thank you, a cup of tea would be lovely.” The young assistant disappeared, though Beth couldn’t be sure how or where. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her mobile phone, checked it quickly before turning it off and tossing it back into the bag. When she looked up, the assistant was back, gold tray in hand. Beth could feel the nerves draining from her, though she did still wonder why she was here.

“Milk and Sugar?”

Beth realised the assistant as now sat next to her, and was busying herself with pouring the tea.

“Just milk, Thank you.”

The assistant smiled, she lifted the lid of the pot peeking inside before replacing t and gently turning the pot.

“I’m guessing it's your first time here or any other body art shop.” Beth had lost the power of speech again and just nodded. “There is no need to be nervous; we are very friendly here.”

Hushed voices from behind one of the doors made them both look up.

“Oh, it's beautiful, amazing. I don’t know what to say, thank you.” said the mystery female voice. Beth glanced at the assistant who was smiling serenely; she had poured the tea and was now sat with a clipboard on her lap.

“Did you have an artist in mind or a particular piece of work, we have many examples of our incredible artist's handiwork. They all specialise in slightly different themes, anything from traditional to modern we can also do medical tattoos.”

Beth took a deep breath, what could she say, this wasn’t easy. Had she expected it to be easy, she didn’t know, to be honest, she hadn’t thought about the detail, just about the deed itself. Those thoughts had filled her head continuously day and night. But now here in the spotlight, it was all different.

“No I have no idea, sorry this is all so new to me.”  She wrung her hands together was this a mistake maybe she should leave. “Well I have some ideas, but nothing firm.” She took the cup from the assistant. “Thank you.”

“That’s fine, why don’t you have a look through some of the albums, take some inspiration, I am happy to answer any questions you may have.” She smiled at Beth, wondering what her story was, why was she here.

Beth poured over the solid leather albums all filled with exquisite artwork, butterflies, flowers and more. So many lovely designs, Beth found herself imagining dragons climbing her back, roses curling around her arm. What was happening she had never liked tattoo’s, but when she had never actually looked at them, only seen old faded ones or dodgy homemade ones, but these were different so different. Some of these were so vivid, so bright she had no idea if they were even real, some looked 3D as if they were carved wood or standing proud of the skin. So beautiful were some designs that Beth almost forgot where she was, and why she was here.

Time passed, Beth had no idea how much time, but she guessed it was a good hour. Her tea had been periodically discreetly refilled. Other ladies had come and gone, each leaving with a glamorous little gift bag, containing what she had no idea.

That's it, that's perfect, a gentle, petite floral border, almost 3D to look at, all surrounding a name.

Looking up she caught the assistants eye, within seconds she was seated beside Beth clipboard in hand.

“Oh yes a lovely design, I have something similar” she pulled up her sleeve to reveal a small tattoo, tiny buds surrounding the name Rebecca. “My daughter, we lost her last year.” Beth could see the tears gathering in the corner of the young woman, despite not knowing her she could feel her sorrow, reaching out she took her hand.

“Oh I am sorry, that is so beautiful, a lovely way to keep her with you forever.” Their eyes meet, sharing a moment of grieve. Yes, Beth could understand those feelings, not that she had lost a baby, but she could identify with a loss.

“We don’t generally recommend names, especially lovers, boyfriends, husbands, etc.” She paused. “You know just in case; removal is pretty unpleasant and painful.” Beth nodded her tattoo would never need to be removed.

“That's fine, it's not a problem, this will be with me for life.”

“So if we could just complete this short questionnaire, then we can get your design drawn up and you booked in.” She smiled, her composure now restored. Rattling through the health questions they soon reached the end of the form, the mood lightening again. “Now what did you want inside the flowers.” Beth took a deep breath; this was so hard.

“Do Not Resuscitate”