It didn’t matter…
…that this was my idea.
…that I trusted them all – all friends. That I’d taken each aside in confidence and invited them into my fantasy, openly, soberly, cerebrally
…that I had to work to convince them all, and almost to beg two that yes, this was something I wanted, that I needed.
…that I wrote the script, made them promise to follow it, rented the secluded room.
It didn’t matter.
When four hands closed on my wrists and ankles.
When the fifth man stepped between my legs.
When they said they’d be taking turns.
It didn’t matter.
I knew it wouldn’t.
Photo from Hegre-Art.com
.jpg "CTV")
.jpg "CTAIAIA")
.jpg "By Hand")
That was a surprise. I was expecting more to read and instead see the scene. Pictures’ worth a 1000 words…. :0
Will and I have slightly different takes on the photo quickies so far. They inspire him to real stories, but for me, if the image speaks to me, its to hint at what’s happening just outside, or just before the frame. A good picture tells its own story, and I finds words superfluous. But if you can twist things to just a little different angle with a few words, then the image takes on a new meaning.
I liked that you “set the stage” so to speak for the photo. Actually it was a different way to view it, the photo became the tableau for what you had written. Well done.
Yes, i liked that the photo illustrated the words and not the other way around. Compellingly written, i was drawn immediately into a small dark place…a womans darkest fantasy…
nilla
didn’t matter to whom seems to be the question, after reading. Everything matters. I find it disturbing that this visual affected me as powerfully as it has. well done.
Excellent! This is always been a fantasy of mine. I need to make more friends. :)
Short and deliciously sweet.