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Dark Pleasures

I always wonder if it will happen again.
Will it be the same as before? Will it seem to seep in,
delving into the deepest recesses of my mind?

How will I be able to fight it off again?
I am so weary of the continuing battle of wills.
A battle to draw me into its' deep, dark world of pleasure.
Mine to repulse the pleasure it promises.

From the moment I first tasted the exquisite warmth on my lips
I knew I must resist with every breath I took,
it offered a world of false warmth and comfort, a sense of serenity.
Yet I always feel guilty!
Sneaking away or waiting until all in the house are quietly sleeping,
dreaming and resting peacefully. Oh how I wish that for me.

I've promised myself this will be the last time.
Just one more time to hold in my memories to be tucked away,
only to be brought out when I feel the compelling urge
to satisfy my needs once again.
Surely the memories will sustain me,
will it be possible to live my life
without the sweet smell, the smooth feel on my fingers,
the warm melting sensation on my tongue?

Oh, the pleasure this last hour has been! If only I can sneak
back to my husband's side as he peacefully sleeps, he will never know.
A few more feet and it will all be behind me,
unless my will weakens once again.

Shhh! Stand still I tell myself, what's that behind me?
I wait, tense and expectant.
After a few moments I assure myself it was only
the wind blowing through the open window.

Once again I start that long walk down the hall,
with each step I take I hear the rustle behind me.
Has someone seen me and followed?
Will they keep my secret or use it to their advantage?

Another step and the noise seems closer than before.
In a panic I run into the bathroom,
fumbling for the lock on the door.
The bright light a sharp contrast to the dark pleasure
I had indulged in just a few moments before.

I silently walk to the tub to wash away the telltale signs
that would give me away. My husband would be able
to see the traces left behind, taste it on my lips as he
turns in his sleep to kiss me good night.
That can't happen!
I've promised it won't ever happen again.

With the last step I take I hear the noise once again,
in panic I turn around but no one is there.
After my heart stops racing I stoop to remove my shoes.
That's when I see it and the trail it has left behind me.
Forgetting the tub of warm, soothing water I grab the
mop to clean the floor before I am found out.

A few quick swipes and the traces no longer remain.
I lift my shoe and grab the offending candy wrapper
with it's melted chocolate and throw it in the trash!

Well, what were you expecting?

Happy Halloween!

Story and Graphic by
Sharon Wallace
October 20, 2000