Stories published by Francisco

2

Francisco

3-Day Stand, Part III

Ruby gets kinky with food.

The only remarkable times in a 3-day stand are that first glorious moment of reunion and the last horrific moment of separation. Heaven and hell. Any time in between is irrelevant, at best. Want breakfast at 3 p.m.; go for it. Want to get snockered at 8 a.m.; be our guest. Want to have some fun, have at it, at 2 a.m., 4:30 a.m., 8 a.m., 9 a.m., noon, 3 p.m.... have at it - nothing and no...Read On

Added: 16 Jan 2012 | Category: Fetish | Avg Score: 5 | Views: 1,242 | Tags: oral anal food love

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Francisco

3-Day Stand Part IV

Ruby and Ron clean up

“Since you didn’t lick it all off,” he says to the ceiling, “I guess I’ll have to take a shower. Want to join me”? Ruby’s bright blue eyes, rimmed by glaring white, peer from her blackened, mousse-encrusted face. “I could try again,” she offers. Rolling to his left in the sticky mess of sheets they’ve made, Ron cracks a big smile across his multi-colored, chocolate sprinkle...Read On

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Francisco

Jump me!

Nothing like dragging with a woman!

Five or six shots of espresso through no demand of my own. Perfect end to a commute with a worthwhile jumper. playing "Sing Out" by Celtic Women Steering a curve at 65 with my knees heading into a bright orange sun south of the dark cityscape. The jumper was good! and turned out to be, blessed of all, a woman and brunette and I imagined her to have big tits and ...Read On

Added: 17 Nov 2011 | Category: Love Poems | Avg Score: 4 | Views: 467 | Tags: driving speed brunette thrill

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Francisco

It couldn't have been different.

It is what it is and could not have been different.

You are my love and I yours. I could speak your names but to what end? I write this not to you but for you. Since I am of the hoi polloi I must speak to them as you deign not to. I speak to them of love, far beyond and yet within the flesh they celebrate; our love is so pure, even within its bawdy lust full of moans, gasps and dirty sheets. We are distant in space ...Read On

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Francisco

Lisa II

Another view of Lisa

I see her again, a cardinal in the snow. Wild black hair is tufted up beneath her hard hat. Layers of flannel and Carhart swathe her against the cold. Steel-toed jack boots stir dust and dance across gulches of debris. Gloved hands tear down and best a pounding jack hammer. Dark eyes glint behind shades even as her smile sparkles me. Will her eyes see through me ...Read On

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Francisco

Three-day Stand Part I

Ruby and Ron get together one more time

The phone rings and is answered. “Concierge, Hotel Royale, how may I help you?” The voice on the other end of the line is the Bell Captain. “He’s here.” “Are you sure?” asks the Concierge. “Think so. Gray brown hair and not much of that. Glasses. One white bag and one black plastic bag,” says the Captain. “Hmmmm, sounds right,” says the Concierge. “Thanks. And make sure he gets in...Read On

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Francisco

Why Not?

Lovers separated in space and time reunite occasionally - for Ruby.

She is not dead, far from it. She is in love, but the pains of her days are the grim reminder that she is not dead. She lies upon a bier to not feel the memories of loves lost or unrequited, shallow sex without love, betrayal and abandonment. The daily grind of her motherly chores and the nagging weakness in her blood and bones are the canvas upon which she paints any joy...Read On

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Francisco

3-Day Stand Part II

Ruby and Ron have their first go 'round

"So, how does this work?" Ruby asks, shucking off her black lace bra. While he stows her suitcase, Ron tosses over his shoulder, "Just lie down on your back, sort of diagonal on the bed. Stick a few pillows under your head so you can see. I'll be over as soon as this cocoa butter is melted." "It probably already is," she mumbles. "What?" he prompts. "IT PROBABLY ALREADY IS,"...Read On

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Francisco

Night and Day

The peasant girl and lord.

I was once a peasant girl clad in gray rough woven skirt and flour sack blouse; black hair chipped with straw from the pallet on which I'd lain. Every summer day I picked berries in the lane and you'd ride by in your gilded carriage; wild black and white stallions flailing their mains; champing at their bits. Your blue eyes stared at me beside parted lace; two...Read On

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Francisco

Lisa

I see her through the dust of diggers working harder than any man around. Her dreams, hopes and longings power sun-bronzed arms and thick-gloved hands. She reeks of femininity, but would never cop to that in a bar. Her scent cuts through diesel fumes even as she swabs sweat with her Tee. She is gorgeous and I want her in her sunglasses, mud boots and cascading black hair tucked up under her...Read On

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Francisco

She has a date

When I learned Ruby had a date.

It starts with an idea; sublime torture... the bluntest of instruments. Think of apricot marmalade, with a touch of crimson cayenne, spread slowly about a nipple and over the folds of an areola. Think of the sun making it melt and wafting its scent to the bees. Think of the sweat that bleeds salt and distills the pepper to pucker. A bee hovers and buzzes seeking...Read On

Stories by francisco