In Our Little Yellow Tent

Our Little Yellow Tent

It is early morning and the silence around us was deafening though the sudden downpouring of large, unexpected raindrops clanking against the coffeepot has roused me from my sleep.  The air is brisk and easy to breathe but so cold I shudder and the cold, damp, hardness of the ground beneath us has made my body stiff with regret.  “So this is camping,” I tell myself. But then I notice the feel of your warm body up against mine, cradling me, your arm over my waist and cupping my breast as you sleep steadily on.  Though my body aches I don’t want to move, I don’t want to disturb you.  I love hearing you breathing there beside me, and you are my only source of comfort, of warmth, and I suddenly feel happy through and through. A smile spreads across my face.

The drumming of the rain beats on, striking harder, as though a band were playing just outside of view.  You snuggle deeper into me, your mouth and nose snuggling into the nape of my neck, I can feel the warm pulse of your breath against my skin.  I reach back and run my palm over the back of your head, enjoying the feel of your soft hair against my hand. I am very sleepy but smile again as I detect the soft brush of your lips against my neck. A gentle sleepy kiss signalling that you too have awakened and are happy to be beside me in our little yellow tent on this cold and wet night.

I take the chance, and turn my head in your direction, hoping my mouth will find yours in the blackness that surrounds us. The chilly air drifts into our sleeping bag as we shuffle our bodies into a new position.  My body cannot help it, I shudder again. You gently reach up, placing your hand behind my head, guiding me toward you and we kiss, slowly, softly, quietly.  We are side by side, facing each other now and your warm, loving kisses continue. My smile widens, both the one on my face and the one in my heart, my soul.  I remind myself, “Oh, how I love this man!”  My heart is beating faster, and the chill of the night air is quickly forgotten.

We are both becoming more alert as the gentle kissing breaks way into passionate, deep desire and a need to become one.  The ever-constant beating of the rain begins to sound like music as we touch, caress, and explore each other, preparing our bodies for joining. In the midst of our excitement it has become so hot within the tent that you reach down and unzip our sleeping bag, laying it open like a blanket at a picnic.  Sitting there in the center of this tiny tent the bulk of your body takes up most of the space within.  You look so fit, so masculine.  I climb up onto your lap. At first your hands holding the sides of my face as you kiss me and tell me that you love me, but then, slowly, they slide down the sides of me, and find there way beneath me; my buttocks cupped perfectly in the palms of your hands as you help me to glide smoothly up and down your magnificent shaft.  As we make love the birds begin to chirp and the sun begins to rise to the east; your face slowly appears out of the shadows of darkness as the yellow of the tent canvas begins to make itself seen. And then, without warning, the rain stops suddenly and all that can be heard is the birds and the sound of two lovers reaching orgasm in unison.

Your hands come up to my back and I lean into them, gaze deeply into your eyes, a satisfied and happy grin on my face and as I look at you, your sparkling eyes, and cheery dimples are grinning proudly back at me.

“So,” I say, “this is camping.”

And we break into laughter.

The End.



Rekindled Youth

Rekindled Youth| Memee's MusingsShe was standing there mesmerized by the reflection in the water and what she had just witnessed. So it was true! Only a couple of minutes ago she had watched an old man approach the fountain. His skin was wrinkly, his hands bony and he struggled with every step he took. But his appearance changed massively in the few brief moments he had soaked in the crystal blue-green waters.

She had watched in silence and fear as he emerged, beads of water running down his tight, bare skin and dropping seductively from his plump muscles. His straight back and firm erection singing to her like a whisper in the air. In awe she watched as the healthy, youthful man dressed and left the area with a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips. She had heard of the fable about the Fountain of Youth hidden in the back of this valley. She never believed it. But now… things were different. Now her world was exponentially larger, the possibilities were endless.

The fear now completely subsided, she thought in wonderment, “Should I?” The water was so beautiful and inviting, and this body so old and unforgiving. Being forever young, was that really what she wanted? Unsure of what to do she looked at the water again, scanning the reflection of her face that once looked so much younger too.  She hadn’t come looking for the fountain. Or had she? Now she felt so uncertain about everything. Every decision she had made in her life, she pondered, would she have made different choices?  It had been a good life. A life filled with happiness and love and family.

She quietly reflected on her life, a gentle smile on her face as she slowly and unconsciously began unbuttoning the front of her dress and then her bra and finally her panties dropping to her ankles. She slowly stepped first one foot and then the other, from her delicates into the soft, warm waters that had beckoned her.

As she walked ever deeper into the waters she noted to herself how peaceful and calm the moment was. There was no concern that she might stumble or fall. There was no fear that she was making a mistake. In fact, she thought to herself, “This must be what Heaven feels like.” But she knew that she was not in Heaven and she knew that this was not a dream.  When the water tickled her armpits she stopped.

Standing there she could feel the creek of her bones being washed away as the movie of her life played backwards in her mind’s eye. She knew that story already, it did not intrigue her or hold her interest. She lifted her hand from the water, first the right and then the left, looking at them, turning them and watching them as the large veins of her hands miraculously seemed to vanish, the muscles plumping and skin tightening. It was wonderful!

And then she felt her hair begin to grow from her scalp, lengthening to just below the shoulders. Glancing to watch as her hair darkened into a rich, vibrant golden brown, beautifully curling just as it had been long, long ago, she caught sight of her reflection in the water and stared.  No sagging jowls. No bags under the eyes. Her cheeks flush with youth. She smiled and her vibrant teeth smiled back at her from the water’s surface. She looked 18 again!

Her heart skipped a beat. She felt a dozen butterflies twirling through her stomach as a young girl falling in love for the first time might feel.  She giggled and laughed as she made her way back towards the shore.  Before exiting the water she stopped and glanced around, scanning the trees and bushes to see if someone had watched her transformation as she had watched the man before her.  Feeling confident that she was alone she cupped her breasts in her hands, not for privacy but as an embrace, welcoming them back from a far off land.

“Ah, my friends, I’ve missed you.” she whispered. And then she let them go, emerged from the waters and stooped to pick up the panties, bra, and dress she had absentmindedly discarded. Neither the panties nor the bra would fit her now but at least she could make due with the dress.  Had the dress been her size it would have clung to her wet body but as it was it felt and looked more like an oversized robe.  She threw her arms out and her head back and twirled and laughed, the blue sky and fluffy clouds her dance partner.

“I love to dance!” She yelled to the skies above.

“Well then, may I join you?”

Her twirling stopped abruptly as alarm entered her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I had watched.” Pointing, he said, “I waited over there behind that boulder, until I was certain you were presentable.”

“Thank you.” She said. “I’m Alice, Alice O’–”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Alice. My name is Cian Kelly, but it is time for both of us to choose a new name for our new lives. Let’s enjoy this moment together.  I do not know where our paths will take us but I’d like to remember that you were here this time. Please tell me, what shall my name be?”

“Connor!” she giggled. “I’ve always wanted to dance with a boy named Connor.”

“Connor it is then! And what shall I call you?”

“I’ve always liked the name Caitlin.”

“Caitlin O’Sullivan, may I have this dance?”

“Why yes, Connor, I would love to dance with you!”

He begins whistling a merry waltz as he takes her in his arms. She laughs as he twirls and dips her, unaware of the gravity of her actions, the losses she will reap and the sacrifices she will be forced to make once the music ends.

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The above short story was inspired by Author S B Mazing’s blog event Finish It!, which began as a Blogging201 assignment meant to further expand our blogging experiences as well as our strength of community. Do one, or do them all, it’s up to you; Join her event to experiment with a story prompt and give your fingers a shot at flash fiction… every Wednesday she’ll provide a new prompt! This story came from Finish It! prompt #30. 

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Interested in reading more of my short stories? Head on over to Memee’s Supershort Stories

© MemeesMusings/B.L. Memee, 2015-2017. All rights reserved.

Sometimes I Feel

Sometimes I Feel |Memee's Poetry PartiesSometimes I feel
like giving up
that no one cares
if I am here
or I am there.

Sometimes I feel
I should stop trying
why bother,
no one is listening.

Sometimes I feel
like trying.
I feel like trying
again and again
and again.

Sometimes I feel
like if I keep trying
you’ll start listening,
you’ll start caring.

And sometimes I feel
that if you are listening
and starting to care
that it really does matter
if I am here or if I am there.

So I plod along day after day
hoping that soon it will be
the day.

The day when I not only feel,
but the day when
I know:
I make a difference.
I matter.

That is the day
that I will
define myself
with the word:

☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ Join me at the linky party! ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀

I am a total beginner-beginner at poetry and created Memee’s Poetry Parties in an attempt to challenge myself (or more accurately force myself to be challenged) at this form of writing. It does not come easily to me at all. If you enjoy poetry and want to give a poke at it I encourage you to join my monthly poetry party, whether you’re brand new to poetry and writing or a veteran writer we all learn from and appreciate one another. It is my hope that we will all find inspiration and encouragement, and make lasting friendships while growing our writing skills and our blogs.

So if you liked my poem I hope you’ll consider joining this month’s linky party: Success Stories.

Please tag your post with #DefiningSuccess and #memeespoetryparties.

And don’t forget to pick up your participation badge here!

Bottleneck (a short story)

Bottleneck | Memee's Musings
Photo: Shutterstock

The bottle was almost empty. Just another sip. He cleaned his mouth with his sleeve. The house was still dark. He was cold. She would be home soon. And then he would show her. He would teach her a lesson. Nobody was allowed to treat him like this. He would show her! How dare she leave him. For that guy! He took another sip. The bottle was empty. Maybe he would use the bottle. She had to suffer. He would take his time. Suddenly a car was pulling up. A smile on his face he pressed his body closer to the wall, hiding in the dark.

It was 2:45 in the morning and it was the same as it was every night since she had met Ralph three and-a-half years ago.  She would be out playing, partying with Ralph; having sex with Ralph while he sat at home miserable and lonely. She didn’t care about him, she had never really loved him.  That much was obvious!  If she had she wouldn’t abandon him night after night for a man who didn’t respect her enough to marry her. Continue reading

Falkner’s Dreamland

He was caressing her beautiful soft and warm skin, kissing her on her neck while inhaling the fragrance of her hair. The sun was shining, warming his back and when he looked in her eyes he could see the reflection of the few clouds above.

“Mr Falkner!”

The voice forced him back to reality.

“Yes?” he managed to actually answer.

“Mr Falkner! I asked you what your take of this subject is!” She glanced at him, waiting for her student to finally answer her question.

He looked at his professor, trying hard to remember what she was talking about before he drifted off into his dreamworld where they were so much closer than in real life. Continue reading