The Outlook

[Luna_Wolf72]

Capturing a mist lady takes time, concentration. I have both. Small fingers reach out, stroke along a barely there form...making it real, marking it as missed and mine...

Walk me home, love?

 

[Daydream_weaver]

*A small catch of breath as her touch brings me further into her world. Misty fingers slide down her arm to link hands, becoming solid and real*

Lead the way, my Wolf...I will gladly follow

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Leaning in, brushing a kiss over a barely real chin, fleshing it out...I turn us about and we head for my cabin....my Haven...my place...Tis a long journey from sea shore to deep woods...

 

[Daydream_weaver]

*Steps synch, match her pace, each one lending more solidity to my body. Over sandy dunes and windswept sea grass I follow, toward the shadows of the woods. I mark the pathway, but my focus is on her. My fingers tighten slightly on hers, just to feel that connection*

 

[smallncute]

Finishing her coffee, Miranda stands, and just in her linen racer back summer dress and silk thong, Miranda picks up her pair of sandals, and heads down to the beac descending eh wooden steps, feeling the hot sand on her feet.

Purposefully Miranda walks down tot eh water's edge, where the sand is cool and damp from the ebbing tide, and walks along, watching the sun descend close to the distant horizon.

Miranda has various thought son her mind but shrugs them away, enjoying the moment...

Miranda continues to sip her coffee, with her net-book on the table, reading through the threads, the stories the abundance of erotica that i s literotica..

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Her footsteps trod the ground with no sound. Her bare feet left prints in the damp sand though they were carried out to sea with the spent wave as it retreated. Glancing heavenward, she saw the moon sitting high in the sky and huge. It dominated the heavens tonight.

She was wearing one of her favorite sarongs. She found them comfortable to be in and reminded her of her birth place, which she missed now and then. The tropics. She found she could visit, but she wouldn’t live there for long periods of time. She needed the change of the seasons. Her hair was unbound because her head hurt and she thought a walk along the shore might bring it ease before she returned home to M.

M. Maverick. Always M to her, however. She smiled softly as she lifted her face slightly, feeling the ocean’s breeze brush across it. So dear. So special. Even now, just thinking about him she wanted to be right there, lying beside him and she would be, shortly. He was so much ….more, all rolled into one man. She had to blink rapidly to quell the rise of tears in her eyes. She had friends, yes. She had, had her share of lovers, yes. Still, she had walked alone. Not any more. Not even when the things pulled them apart did she ever feel she was alone. He was always with her.

The headache was dissipating. There was only a mild faint ache left now. She had walked past the Outlook and gone beyond a ways. It was time to turn around, walk back along the shoreline and up the dunes to the woods that separated her estate from the ocean. The path was clearly there but she didn’t need to look for it. Her feet automatically found it as her heart drew her homeward.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Two wolves come wandering~one on two feet, the other on four. The one on two feet gives a light sniff at the hint of scent, barely remembered. She files it away, tucking it into the farthest reaches of her mind. Eventually, the owner of that fading scent will pop into her brain, there is no doubt of it. But it is of no matter and so the wolf on two feet brushes it away.

The pup jets about crazily. Dashing in and out of the waves as if his bushy little gray, black and white tail were on fire. The woman, the eldest, giggles~high, husky, light, sweet. She feels refreshed...better able to face the day, better able to face the fantasy realm she sometimes calls home. Her Elven Blessing had shown her a safer way to deal with it all. Eventually, the woman, stops and strips...her body shifts...from brown skinned girl to gray, white, silver (and just a hint of dark brown) wolf. Amber eyes gleam and she nips the pup sharply before leading him a merry chase into the sea.

Ah. Peace. Joy.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

The wolves awaken, curled up in a little heap, just out of reach of the waves. The larger one stretches, gives a wide yawn and shifts back to naked brown skinned girl before gathering the pup and her clothes. Time to return home. A soft smile. Things are never as terrible as some people believe. She should know the truth of that maxim....

The waning moon lights her way and soon, she is gone...to return another day.

 

[Noon_Shadow]

Noon walks into the Outlook, stretching out his arms and legs before he drops into a lounge chair with a view of the beach. He sits there, looking out at the water, and enjoying the warm sun for a moment, for a change. His eyes drift shut as he sips on a glass of ice water, waiting to see if he can get his mind in order.

 

[fr33ks33k]

*It has felt like ages since he has walked on the sands of the Outlook, and the soft grainy sands are a nice and welcome change from hard concrete. He's dressed in nothing more than a pair of swim-trunks, green with white Hawaiian flowers, faded with time and exposure to chlorine. With determined steps, he walks right into the chilly surf, striding out to waist-level before diving into an incoming wave, kicking and stroking strongly until he's gone out far enough to need to tread the water. He stays there for quite a while, inhaling and exhaling calmly despite his strenuous activity.

After he's had his fill of the bobbing waves and cold water, he swims ashore, smiling as he stands amidst the bubbling froth of the tides. Shaking the water from his hair, or at least attempting unsuccessfully to do so, he takes the stairs to the Outlook proper two at a time, whistling some unknown tune.

With little more than a few sidelong glances from the waitstaff, he plops down onto a lounger, beckoning for a server. Of course, the shy young lady who always takes his order is there in an instant, blushing profusely and nodding as he gives his request for a drink.

Minutes later, she returns with it and he takes it with a grin. This time, as she departs he gives her a playful swat on the bottom. Her blush runs right down from her cheeks to her neck, and he would wager it has even spread to her chest, covered by the standard attire of the waitstaff. His grin widens as he sips from his drink, enjoying the bite of the alcohol in it, while a soothing undertone of sweetness washes over his tongue. He leans back on the lounger, enjoying the solitude, but wondering idly if anyone else might happen in on this lovely summer evening....*

 

[fr33ks33k]

*He shook awake, having fallen asleep in the lounger. He laughed and stood up, stretching his stiff muscles before plopping back down on the chair. He noticed a fresh drink already waiting for him, as though they had anticipated it. With a smirk he took the glass in hand and reclined further, sipping thoughtfully*

 

[Drunken_Angel]

Steps in the sand call the wind, long hair waves in its wake.
Breaking waves make white tipped tears, that are the hooves for Neptune's mares.

A crash, a gull, water retreating over tonnes of sand,
Chiming bells and salt-sea aire,
bring the fae to this land.

She walks with steps pressing lightly in the sand. White gown flowing freely, eyes the color of seafoam. She walks and waits and listens. Humans are about.

 

[Light Ice]

DA, on the beach. He would not intrude.

Still, the temptation rose. Always. He tracked each scissored stride, each graceful step. There was always a dreamlike easiness to her. Vulnerable. And not. From the beach grass yards away he looked on, bottle in hand, glass balanced on a corded thigh.

The Whorehouse had disappointed him twice now. This, and other things, were banished here. The waves came in and washed it all away. He listened to them pound against the shore, suck out amidst a swirling foam of sea water that undercut the next set and provoked their break further out.

As a child he'd learned to count waves.

He tried to count them now.

But she was there. Walking. He measured a glass and grimaced against its sweetness. The gin swirled a heat down into his belly. It did not help him regain his measure of the waters.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

Counting waves.

So many, rolling, breaking, receding. Atop these were the unseen tides.. deep welling, rising from the depths. It was a primal flow that even the most mundane could feel at certain times of the year. To Da, it was a heartbeat, counterpoint to the more terrestrial earth, sibling to the lunar forces waxing and waning. They relaxed her, these tides... as much as anything relaxed her these days.

The tips of her toes skimmed a retreating wave's surface and she smiled. There would be someone, it was bound to happen. For now.. the sea was her consort and it was enough.

 

[Light Ice]

Temptation.

A creeping thing. The water swirled. The waves roared. Roar - it was an inadequate word. The volume built as they grew near, more groan than roar, climaxing as the crests turned frothy and the barrels forged themselves in that moment where a wave took on that flawless, half-moon crescent.

But it was not that plummeting crest that brought the boom as it fell. It was the water behind it, the depth.

People were like that to him but unlike waves, he never had much a chance to see that depth. They broke over his head in a confusing rumble of sea-green and salt. She'd been much the same. People had always been liquid. He'd always been stone. It was as much a flaw as it was anything else.

He rose. The breeze took the linen of his pants and pushed at them. Each stride measured by the loose slide of sand and the sink of his weight into it. The glass had long lost its ice. The liquid within pure Bombay. Swirling. Crystalline. In his other hand the bottle hung loose from long fingers.

"Drink?" He said. For lack of anything else. Temptation.

He was rotten in the face of it.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

The fey, without even looking behind her, had let her hand meet the glass. She accepted it without comment and fell into stride beside LI. Her hips swayed, but not quickly, they moved in time to the flows around her.. flows of which she was a part and from which she took her substance.

Side by side she let them walk, intimate in the silence.

 

[Light Ice]

Words seemed so entirely incapable now. Empty.

And so he walked with her. Close. Close enough that he felt the contrast of her near him, a warmth against the breeze. A sleek, sensuous little fae against the encompassing and inspiring backdrop of the ocean. He paused only to top off her glass; the bottle now served as his own.

It was on the second pour that he took a liberty, bold as brass. The brush of his lips to a lean shoulder before he withdrew to his place at her side.

The water surged up and encompassed their ankles before pulling back from them, echoing his less powerful affection.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

As the lips cross the boundary between people, so do they cross the boundary between worlds; where there was flesh, suddenly there is only mist.... and the sound of bells.

There would be no taint of anger or frustration, simply the fading of what must have been a mirage.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

Today, the sea is calm, its still waters at an ebb; one can almost see into its depths. In some ways, the sea mirrors life. When it is calm, once can see great distances; murky becomes clear. When it is stormy, there is great power and one can only dig ones toes in the sand and hope for the best.

The sea is very much like life- as it should be, for all life comes from it.

I turn, small waves lapping at my ankles, my eyes turned toward shore, and with one steady step, bare feet cross sand.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

A lone Wolfling comes walking along the beach, her eyes glazed with thought, her mind whirling. Eventually, she reaches her favorite outcropping and stops to remove her clothing, placing the pile in a crevice. She needs the power of the water today~to cleanse, to erase, to refresh.

So, the wolfling takes a few steps and dives...into the vast blueness. Solitude and contemplation given in the waves.

 

[Drunken_Angel]

As one emerges from the water, another seeks its depth. Such is the ebb and flow of life.

 

[Light Ice]

Want. Unrequited.

It seems suitable that here, of all places, he is left to watch. Higher on, where beach grass meets sand, he sits once more with bottle and glass. This time there will be no intrusion. No bold gesture. He is smiling, unable to help himself. It'd make him laugh weren't it bad form to do so.

He has no desire to spill his drink.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

I wonder if things will always be this way. If I will never know peace. Am I destined to retreat again and again?

Sorry thoughts...push them down.

Strong arms pull me through the water. It becomes a battle for supremacy. Either sea or myself will win. The undertow is fierce, much like a lover, but I won't give in...not today. Maybe tomorrow. And anyway...if I used Ausus' place to off myself? She'd just bring me back and kill me. That thought...puts an odd little smile on my face as I stroke toward the surface. Once there? I flip over and float, allowing the water to support my weight. Relaxation. Peace. Contentment.

Mmm-hmmm, maybe I can write Makenzie now.

I flip yet again and swim toward the shore and my clothing. First, home to my haven and then...an attempt at a vixen who has bitten off more than she can chew...I think.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Up again, on to the warm sand, bare body drying in the wind and sun. Strong legs carry me toward the outcropping and small hands gather my clothes, slipping back in to them. Better. I feel much better.

First, a stop at the Outlook proper for OJ and then home, to my dark woods and my log cabin. Writing happens best there.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

My eyes pick out a a shape...but he isn't looking my way. Is he watching the Fae? Probably so. No use in waving. Finally, I reach the steps that lead to the deck and start upward. A waitress meets me there and I grin at her, light brown eyes glittering brightly.

A glass of OJ please. Bring it to the chair nearest the rail. Thank you.