Awakened - Chapter 1

Laurel stood in the kitchen staring out the window, watching two hummingbirds flit about the feeder as she filled the sink with water for her next load of dishes. Chores were not an issue for Laurel, but cleaning the kitchen was not one of her favorites. Like all the others, she made it a part of her daily routine. She liked to have everything clean and in its proper place when she got up in the mornings.

As Laurel stared out the window, she began to feel the weight of the day come down on her shoulders. She had many things that needed her attention, for her list was long. Her husband, Christoph had tucked himself away in his office and was working on some project for his work that she really did not care to know about. Standing here at the counter, watching the bird feeder, had its peaceful, relaxing undertones that would help her gather her thoughts for the rest of the day.

The house was more or less quiet for a change. No kids were yelling in the background and no blaring televisions or music. If she stood real still and turned the water off, Laurel could hear the flutter of the hummingbirds’ wings as they fed on the feeder. Laurel turned to the counter beside her and picked up her iPod. She set the playlist for shuffle and inserted it into the clock radio that she had sitting on the other side of the kitchen. Music always helped to move the job along, and it made her happy.

Pressing play, her iPod began. "Love Game," by Lady Gaga blared through the speakers; not her most favorite song, but it will do in a pinch. Sliding back over to the sink, she began to bounce and move to the music as she started washing the load of dishes. Lady Gaga always brought a swing into her step as she blocked the world out, washing dishes.

The iPod continued to play as Laurel continued to wash more dishes. The shuffle would bring a couple of upbeat songs and then a slower one, creating a nice mix for the job. As the next song came on, Christoph could hear the music from his office. Curious, he quietly stepped from his office and poked his head into the kitchen where he saw Laurel dancing to the music as she washed the dishes. He leaned against the doorjamb and grinned as songs like, "Something in Your Mouth" by Nickelback and "I Touch Myself" by the Divinyls played.

Christoph always loved watching Laurel get into her groove as she worked. She had a gracefulness and charm as she moved that he enjoyed watching. As he stood there watching her sway and bounce to the music, he tried to remember the last time he stopped to take in her beauty and charm. The years of work and family responsibilities seemed to consume his days. Today was no different when it came to his work. However, standing there watching her sway to the music in her pale blue cotton sundress seemed to distract him. There was something about how she wore that dress and how it swayed to her movements that intrigued and excited him. Her sleek black hair, dark skin, and spunky personality made everything more exotic and pleasurable to him.

The song changed on the iPod and began playing "Run" by Snow Patrol. Laurel's mood seemed to adjust to the music. She stood there for a moment, staring out the window whilst the song played. Slowly, she began to sway to the music.

Drawn to the words of the song and the music, Christoph walked up to Laurel, drew in closely, spooning himself behind her as she continued to sway. Leaning into her, he breathed in Laurel's spicy yet intoxicating scent, and then placed a chaste kiss on her neck. Laurel's heart fluttered. She leaned her head back to rest on his chest, closed her eyes, and smiled. This was a nice change in Laurel's routine. It brought back so many great memories. "Mmm, this is nice," she said softly.

Christoph picked up quickly on Laurel's rhythm, and they began to sway to the song together. He leaned in once again and made a trail of chaste kisses from Laurel's shoulder to the bottom of her ear where he gently took her earlobe into his mouth and sucked. Laurel shuddered with pleasure. Feeling his breath, lips, and mouth on her neck made her skin tingle.

The song changed once again, this time Janet Jackson sang, "Nasty Boy." Laurel began to press into Christoph. He worked himself against Laurel as she moved. Laurel then reached up with her right arm and grabbed Christoph's left shoulder, turning herself into him, never losing contact with his body or a step to the beat. This excited Christoph very much as he continued to grind himself into Laurel. Carefully, yet firmly, he moved his knee between her legs allowing her to straddle him in the dance. Their dancing turned into a fluid movement of one body bumping while the other pressed into the other.

Laurel watched as Christoph put one arm around her waist and the other hand on her chest. He gently nudged her into a backward dip as he ran his hand down her body from neck to stomach. Laurel swayed backward over Christoph's arm, following his lead as she pressed herself into his leg. She lost herself to the music and Christoph's touch. Her skin tingled everywhere he touched, almost as if this was their first touch. Her skin rippled with goosebumps, and her nipples began to harden in anticipation as his fingers grazed the tops of her breasts.

Laurel came back up into Christoph's embrace. Both feeling the euphoria they had created in their dance, Christoph leaned in and found Laurel's lips and began to kiss her with more fervor. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth as he kissed her. Opening her mouth, a gasp escaped and their mouths found the momentum they both sought.

Lost in the moment, Christoph picked Laurel up by the waist and placed her on the counter top. As they kissed, he reached under her dress, sliding his hands slowly up her legs. Laurel startled for it had been so long since a flare of unkempt spontaneity enveloped them. She pulled back briefly, glimpsed Christoph, and gave him a coy smile. She wondered for just a moment whether this was just a tease or if Christoph would seriously continue this adventure. She hoped the latter.

Laurel loved Christoph’s straight dark brown tresses. She noticed that today he had pulled them back into a ponytail that exposed the scruff on his face. She loved when he let his beard grow for a few days before shaving. It gave him that rugged ruffian look that excited her naughty side. Seeing him right now was even sexier. He wore a white linen shirt, which had been unbuttoned down to his navel, exposing his beautifully sculpted tan chest. He had his sleeves rolled up to the elbows and fit loosely around his shoulders. His tan chinos fit nicely around his ass and had the cuffs turned up exposing his tan bare feet.

Laurel smiled with satisfaction as she looked deeply into his dark chocolate brown eyes. She reached into his shirt and began drawing trails over his already exposed chest. She made sure to trace every muscle, ridge, and bump of his chest and abdomen. Her touch caused his skin to flush and tingle. Laurel enjoyed watching as his nipples harden from her touch.

She continued her trail down to the last button still fastened on his shirt. Unfastening it, his shirt fell freely to his sides. Continuing the same trail, she proceeded to unbuckle and remove his belt. Next, she reached down to unzip his pants slowly and gingerly, making sure that he could feel her hand running down his length.

Christoph gasped, grinding himself into her hand. Laurel slid her hands back up to his chest, pushing his shirt from his shoulders. With his chest now completely exposed, she leaned into him and slowly began to kiss his chest. Approaching his nipple, she flicked her tongue over his nipple, sucked it into her mouth, and gently nibbled around it causing him to moan.

Christoph took Laurel's face in his hands and brought her up to his mouth. He kissed her long and hard, deepening his enthusiasm. His kisses traveled down her neck to her shoulder. Pushing the straps of her dress off her shoulders, he continued his trail of kisses until his lips found her breast. He flicked his tongue over her hard nipple and felt her shiver. He grinned to himself, knowing that his tongue aroused her. Placing his mouth over her nipple, he sucked and rolled his tongue across the top.

He reached under her dress, between her legs, grabbed her now very wet panties, and without haste ripped the crotch from them. He looked up into Laurel's eyes, grinned and said, "Oops, guess I'll have to buy you a new set." Laurel giggled and grabbed Christoph around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. As she kissed him again, Christoph let his pants fall to the floor, then reached under Laurel's ass, and squeezed. Laurel's breath caught as she looked down to see his very ready erection.

Laurel grinned; pointed with her eyes, and whispered, "Is that for me?"

Christoph laughed at her and said, "Why don't you slide over here and see." With that, he pulled her toward himself, sliding her to the edge of the counter. Gently, he pushed himself between her legs, slowly teasing her wet opening. Laurel's body began to buck as her desire for him heightened. All she wanted was for him to penetrate her.

Wrapping her legs around him, she began to gyrate, pushing herself onto Christoph. Raising and lowering her hips to his movement, she yearned, even panted for more of him.

Holding her ass tightly, he thrust his swollen member firmly and swiftly into her core. With a scream of pure ecstasy, Laurel could no longer contain herself. Her body gave away her delight as it bucked to his thrust. Fiercely, Christoph dug his nails into Laurel's ass and began pounding into her core, deepening his push each time.

As Christoph continued to push deeper, the head of his shaft hammered into the back of her core sending Laurel rolling into a bone-shattering orgasm. The pain of his nails dug deeply into her ass and the constant aggressive pounding exhilarated and excited Laurel. She turned the pain into ecstasy and realized she really liked it.

Sweat now coated Christoph's chest and brow, telltale signs he was nearing his climax. He slowed his thrust, allowing Laurel to feel every bit of his manhood as he thrust in and out. Laurel came again, screaming, “YES!!!” Laurel pursued Christoph more aggressively now by pumping herself on his cock. The tight pressure that Laurel's legs created around his waist while she pumped and her breasts pressed into his sweat-coated chest brought moans howling from Christoph's mouth. One last pump and thrust was his undoing as he climaxed and folded into Laurel.

Collapsing into each other's arms, completely spent, they each tried to catch their breath.

Both began to giggle softly as the reality of what just happened caught up with them. Taking Laurel's face in his hands once more, Christoph looked into her eyes and whispered softly, "Laurel, you are the most beautiful and charming person. I love you." He leaned in, finding Laurel’s mouth once again. Laurel felt his passion as his kiss lingered and became more intense before he finally released her.

Napkin Scrawl #16 - I'm Sorry

How does one say, “I’m sorry” when all you have are words? You cannot express yourself with facial expressions, audible voice, trinkets, or touch, just written words.

Words written, put me where I am today. Words written, sunk deeply into the heart and mind of the ones I love. Words written to mean one thing may have been misstated or misunderstood. How does one make right what has been said?

Feelings, emotions, were the driving force behind the words. Did they speak out the correct meaning? Tears, sadness, loneliness, and rejection make one say things they do not mean. So often, we allow our emotions to speak before our brains kick in. Yet, when our emotions well up inside and everything comes to a head, don’t you wish you could clearly choose to hold your tongue until the dust settles? Sometimes the emotion stirs like a tornado and you speak out, hoping that you can throw the anchor out to find that one person who can anchor you.

Once the dust settles, the guilt presses in. Guilt makes one think unclearly too. In an effort to right wrongs said, we often tend to offend the ones we love.

Also, can you tell me, why do we often feel that negative emotions must bring us to a point of admitting that we should no longer be in this world? Am I so weak that I need to threaten the end to life just to feel better? Death is not the answer. Life is to be lived, WITH all its difficulties. What is it Friedrich Nietzsche said? “That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”

Now my words have been read and my pain subsided. Now I feel I have lost you. Perhaps it is just me, but I feel distance between us. How can I recover what we once had?

My hope is that “I’m sorry” is enough because that is all I have. Moreover, thank you for being there when my tornado blew through.

Thank you for being my anchor.

Napkin Scrawl #15 - Rude Awakenings

Although the last couple of days have been, to say the least, depressing, I have great hopes for today. I spent the better part of yesterday and last night, rapt in my own creative juices, steeping in fun, good times. It helped to let go of what ever it was that seemed to bring me down over the past days. Last night, when I finally reached my limits and required sleep, I felt as if I had accomplished something. I knew this night was going to be restful.

Morning always seems to come so quickly, especially on the nights where you sleep all the way through without disruption. However, this morning I wasn’t awakened by alarms or husband. No, Jasper, our German Shepherd mutt woke us with a start as he attempted to vomit up what he had eaten the day before. Yes, you are right, disgusting! However, that’s not the end of my story… nope, there’s more.

Jasper is about eighteen or nineteen months old. He is still very much a pup. Albeit very well behaved and housebroken. He is a house-dog who sleeps in my room and sometimes thinks he belongs between my husband and me as we sleep. Often he decides that cuddling is meant for him as well and he’ll hop up onto our bed and attempt to cuddle with us should the notion arise.

One thing Jasper loves is to tear things apart. A dog toy might last a week with him if we’re lucky. However, we found out one day, that Jasper loves those cardboard tubes that you get after using a roll of paper towels or toilet paper. He takes them and shreds them into confetti. He knows them by the name “festive tubes”, which my husband so fondly named.

Lately, Jasper has sprinkled the house with confetti. Where he gets these tubes is beyond me. What a completely festive dog!

When Jasper gets a bit over zealous with his toys or tubes, he ends up eating some of it. That is when we get the rude awakening of him trying to bring up whatever it was that he ate the day before.

Now, we’ve become really good at hearing these random sounds and wake quite easily to run him outside before he actually retrieves whatever is in his stomach. This is my husband’s job because I don’t glide down the stairs quite as elegantly as he.

This morning was a bit more of a challenge. We heard the vomitus sounds and as usual jumped out of bed and rushed Jasper outside. However, when the husband returned, there was an unpleasant odor in the room. After accusing each other of the stench, I later realized the Jasper decided not to wake us in the middle of the night to tell us he needed to be taken outside. Usually, this sort of urgency doesn’t happen, unless he’s been eating the wrong, well shall we say, foods.

I was left alone to find the culprit stench. Yes, you guessed it, the mother lode was in my walk-in closet. I stood there staring at this pile wondering why it didn’t find my husband’s athletic bag, shoes, or his pants that he threw to the floor. No, he hit the middle of the closet room floor.

Why is it that we women are always on cleanup duty? When baby poops his diaper, we get the cleanup, spit up, again we get the cleanup. When DOG vomits, pees, or soils the carpet, we get the cleanup. Where's the fairness in that! I guess men are wimps and just don’t have the stomach. Well, you guessed it, I got cleanup!

Yes, this was my morning wake up call!

Napkin Scrawl #14 - Angels Among Us

As a child, I seemed to be afraid of everything. The first fears I recollect were legitimate. I grew up when a notorious killer was on the loose and had serious nightmares of him. I woke many nights screaming because in my dreams he had killed my parents and was after my little brother. In my dream, blood was everywhere. The killer chased after my brother and me… and in the end, the part that made me scream, I watched him capture and kill my little brother.

I was one of those who, before bed, had a ritual. I would check under my bed and in my closet, looking for someone, anyone who could be hiding there. I shudder to think of what I would have done had I found someone. Once I found that all was clear, the closet door had to remain open all night, but I was set and ready for lights out. My parents would close our bedroom door every night, which compounded the darkness and my fears.

Too many nights, I would lay in bed, wide-eyed, searching the darkness for shadows. My imagination would run rampant; I would hear noises in the night. Finally, only from pure exhaustion, I would fall to sleep.

One night, I woke screaming. I had had one of my worst nightmares. It still sits in my memory decades later. On that night, my mother brought a bible opened it to some random page, placed it in my headboard and told me that Angels were there in my room watching over me. The Angels would protect me from any more bad dreams and they would keep the shadows away. I clung to that thought and fell fast asleep.

In fact, it was that thought that helped me through many of my fears. Even today, as a grown adult, I fear the darkness and I fear being alone. Call me crazy if you must, but those Angels are always here. They always help to ease my mind.

I think this is when the concept of Angels watching over me became reality in my life.

Now, I see that Angels come in different forms. Not only do they watch over me as I sleep, but they show themselves in forms as friends. I speak to them every day. They have an uncanny ability to know when I am down or just need an ear to listen. Although they are not physically with me, I feel their arms around me when I find that I need a hug. They reach out for me when I have become silent. Or just stop by to chat.

Oft times, I must admit, I feel as though I may burn my Angels out with my mood swings and fears. However, one day, an Angel asked me, “Do you tire from being leaned on by others? You see,” continued my Angel, “You are an Angel to many, including me. Do you tire of us?”

Of course, I’ve never thought of myself as an angel. However, I replied from my heart with a reverberating NO! “You see,” I explained, “I understand the emotions all too well and therefore feel the need to be there whenever needed. I love to help a friend in need. If I lift a friend's spirits, or help to calm their savage beast just a little, I feel complete.”

My Angel smiled at me, or at least I imagined so, I could see it as she typed. “Then why do you think any less of us? We love to help you when you need it and we feel complete when we’ve lifted your spirits, or calmed your savage beast.”

“I can’t help but worry that you’ll tire of me and leave.” I replied.

That is when I realized that there are different types of angels. Some only touch our lives but for a moment as they move on to the place where they are most useful. Others, fall into our lives, never to leave. There aren’t many that stay, but when they do, it is so nice to know they are always there no matter what.

I wonder if Angels tire of us asking them if they tire of us. If I were an Angel, I would always answer no. Are all angels the same?

I am so thankful for the Angels in my life!

Napkin Scrawl #13 - Paranoid

Every morning is the same. I wake, check my phone for messages, get up, and head to the bathroom. It seems a bit mundane, this ritual of sorts. But, routine helps a blurry-eyed work-a-holic who spends too many hours awake.

My bathroom dons a wall-sized mirror, passage to a walk in closet, see through shower doors, and of course the water closet. I can traverse this room with my eyes closed, which I tend to do most days.

Today like every other day, I leave a trail of clothing from my bed to the bathroom. I walk into the bathroom, start the shower, and then brush my teeth. While my brush is in my mouth and toothpaste runs down my chin, my imagination gives me a stir. Suddenly I feel as if someone is watching me. My heart races as I look around the room. No one is there but me. Taking in a deep breath, I calm myself and continue brushing my teeth.

Steam fills the room, the mirror fogs. There it is again. The hair on the back of my neck pricks up. I sense someone is watching me. I look around the room, but see only my own reflection in the mirror. What a strange and irksome feeling. I think to myself, “I must be paranoid. There is nobody here.” I shake my head as if trying to shake a tangible feeling from my mind.

As I walk toward the shower, I turn the fan on to clear the steam. There are two fans in my bathroom, so I use them both. “Oh. My. God,” I think to myself. My mind runs rampant with paranoid thoughts of hidden cameras. I look in the fan cages, under the sink, or anywhere else that I can think. Tugging on the mirror, I find that it is securely glued to the wall. The only way to check behind it is to break the mirror. Each day I consider this possibility.

Water still running and now very hot, I step into the shower and try to ignore my paranoia. One last place I need to check, I look down the shower drain. I feel so exposed right now behind the clear glass doors. I stand in the hot stream of water trying to relax. Breathe in breathe out. “Relax, there’s now one here but you.” I tell myself.

The water melts away the worry and my mind is once again at peace. I laugh at myself for the stupidity. Boy, do I feel stupid.

Shower done, water is off. I step out of the shower and retrieve my towel. This time I hear a sound. I gasp! What the hell was that? I quickly wrap my towel around me. The mirror now completely fogged up. The fans both are running. Perhaps I just hear the fan. Curious.

Drying off quickly, I exit my bathroom to get dressed. “Perhaps I need therapy,” I say to myself while I search for clothes to wear. “Or maybe next time I’ll bring a screwdriver and a rock.”

Some days are not so bad. I follow the same routine, but instead of fearing what probably is not there, I speak loudly and say, “It’s your eyes… don’t blame me for what you see!” I laugh and continue with my daily routine.