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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
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