Elegant Erotica

Waitress Philsophy

This pieces was never published. After you read it, you'll see why. It's barely erotic and not elegant.

It was, however, the first story I submitted for publication. The editor of the magazine must have seen some glimmer of talent because, after reading this, he called me. He explained what the submission guidelines *really* meant by "first person narrative" and asked if I'd submit more work. Our relationship continued for the next year and a half.

---

Waitresses should not read philosophy. I only say this because I was a waitress and I have seven years worth of callouses on my feet to prove it.

During the first three or four years, I used to dream of a rich man coming into the coffee house where I worked and saving me from my life. Then, I would have the money to have a pedicurist sand away the evidence that I had done any work in my life.

Then I fell in love and most of that dream went away. I started college part time, taking classes that were appealing, taking time off when it suited me. I think at least part of the handsome prince dream remained, because I found myself with a degree in philosophy.

That was how I became fascinated with the work of Barkley. He said that reality was just the act of perceiving. Objects don't disappear when we look away because God, with his infinite mind, also perceived it. We perceive what God perceives because we are tuned in on the correct radio band.

I figured that if God was of infinite mind, He was also of infinite frequencies. It was just chance we all happened to think along the same frequency.

I know Barkley's theories are true because I get "interference" from the other frequencies sometimes. It allows me to see auras, those little bands of colored light around people.

Sometimes, even I think it's bull shit. Sometimes, I find other people who have a silver aura around them, like the one I have, and I know that they see the colors too. When I find these people, they smile at me, because they see my silver band and for a while we're both relived to know it's not bull shit.

I got off work early one day last week. It was good because I was making shit for tips anyway. I got home to discover my husband had not done the breakfast dishes, or picked up his clothes, or anything but cart his lazy ass off work.

As I cleaned, I thought about Barkley again. Actually, I thought about him a lot because there's nothing else to think of when I'm at work or cleaning. Is it possible to teach yourself to pick up on those other frequencies? Could I become a metaphysical satellite who could see the other things God sees?

What I saw then made me drop the clothes I was picking up. Someone was standing in front of me: a woman.

Strangely, she didn't have any colored bands of light around her. In fact, she didn't have any color. Her shape was more of a suggestion than something stable, like the way gnats swimming around in the summer sky seem to make circle-shapes that float in the sky.

I reached out to touch her hair. It didn't feel like mine. It was more like touching the skin of water.

The creature walked behind me and slid her hands under my shirt, rubbing wide circles around my breast and lightly pinching the nipples. She had to be real, because my body responded. Her touch had pressure, but her whole body had that same water texture to it.

She pulled me back against her body and while her hands caressed me. Her tongue flicked against the back of my neck and ears. It was like a kitten's tongue, light and rough. I wasn't even sure if she was really doing it, or if I was only wishing it.

Then, I felt the back of my shirt lift up. The same kitten-like caress ran across my back and a hand slid down through the waist band of my skirt and into my panties. The creature used the same circular motions she had on my breasts. The circles grew smaller and smaller and until they were centered on my clit.

Two of her fingers slid inside of me. It was a sensation I can't even describe: solid fingers made of water darting in and out of my body at that strange angle. The movement of her fingers made her hand rub back and forth against my clit.

I reached behind me and grasped her buttocks. As I rubbed my hands up and down her body, for the first time I realized she wasn't wearing clothes. Suddenly, I wanted to be naked with her.

She held my hands and pulled me toward the couch. We laid down and the two of us removed my clothes.

She crawled over me on all fours, licking and teasing her way down my body. She moved around my thighs and stomach, never touching me where I longed to be touched.

I began to fondle my own breasts, mimicking the motions she had made earlier. Even when masturbating, I had never touched my own breasts before. I usually preferred to get right down to the business at hand.

I heard the door knob rattle. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, but I knew it was my husband coming home. I had no friends other than him.

He entered the living room and saw me there -- a strange water creature between my legs, my hands caressing my breasts -- his face changed.

"Keep doing what you're doing," he said in a raspy voice.

Then, the creature's tongue flicked across my clit, barely touching it. She teased and licked, finally grasping it firmly between her lips and sucking.

My back arched and I groaned, pushing my groin into her face. Dan was sitting beside me on the couch now, smiling at me. His eyes were dark.

My new lover looked up at me and smiled. She crawled up my body, pushing one of my hands away from a breast. She caressed my nipple with her lips and tongue, leaving her hand behind to take over where her mouth was now neglecting.

Dan took my free hand and set it next to the creature's hand over my clit.

"Touch yourself for me," he said. "I want to see your face and body while you make yourself cum."

Oh, God. He couldn't see her. He thought I was with ... myself. The thought of telling him crossed my mind. After all, he could learn to see her like I had. However, there was something erotic about not telling him.

I touched myself to please my husband and me. Alternating motion with the creature's hand, so that there was always a hand moving across my clit and a finger inside of me.

I came hard. Dan held me tight against him while my body shook.

When I was done, Dan took off his pants, pulling me to the floor so he could slide between my legs. I was just beginning to wonder where my water created had gone, when I felt her behind me. She supported the top of my body upright, while my husband slid into me missionary style. I placed my hands behind me so it would look like I was supporting my own weight, and so I could try to slide a couple of my fingers into the creature's quim.

The position was awkward and it detracted from my pleasure. I asked Dan if we could change positions.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," I said, letting him slide out so I could turn around on all fours. He could not see what I was doing, so I buried my face between the creature's thighs and sucked her swollen clit. My husband's balls slapped against my ass while he pumped his cock in and out of my wet cunt.

I accidentally nipped the water creature's clit while I was yelping with pleasure. She jerked and squirmed with ecstasy. So, I nipped her a few more times, feeling my orgasm intensify watching her body react to my touch.

Dan began his climax about the time I was finishing mine. He flipped onto his side, keeping me with him, so we were lying spoon fashion with his cock still inside of me.

My creature lay on her side, facing me. Her leg was thrown over Dan's and my bodies. (Why couldn't he feel her?) She caressed my nipples until I fell asleep. When I woke up for work the next morning, she was gone. All day, I wondered what happened to my beautiful new lover.

At work, while I was loading a tray with drinks and food, I felt a hand reach under my uniform. My creature was sitting at the counter nearest to me. She slid off her stool to kneel between my legs. I cold feel her warm breath on the inside of my thighs and higher.

"Not now, " I moaned.

A few customers at the counter stopped eating to see with whom I was talking. I gave them a nervous smile and went back to loading my tray.

I wished that I could feel the watery touch of my new lover all the time. I wanted to be like her. I wanted to return the same sensations she had given to me. I wanted to be naked and free of this body.

I felt strange suddenly ... lighter. Looking down, I my body on the floor. Customers and waitresses gathered around me and the body I just shed like a cocoon.

I stepped through the crowd and they remained where they were, leaning over the body. I wanted to shout at them, "That's not the real me. Here I am, here."

My lover was standing a few feet in front of me, looking very sad. I took her into my arms to comfort her, but I couldn't feel her. The slippery textures of our bodies didn't create enough pressure for sensation. We could hold and touch, but never feel one another again.

Had I known I would be granted one wish, I would not have wasted it on something I could never have. I wanted my body back, my husband, my life -- but it was too late.

I tried to touch my own naked breasts, but it was the same. I could not feel a thing.

I thought of my husband, wondered if he would miss me. It was hard to believe I would never feel his hard flesh pressed against me again. I rejected the world of flesh I sobbed over my loss.

Suddenly, I was beside my husband in our bed. Dan woke up and looked either at me or through me for several minutes. Then, he reached out to stroke my hair, like I had done yesterday.

He saw me. Thank God, he saw me! I pressed my lips against his chest and pulled him close.

"I can feel you," I shouted into his chest. That's why my creature came to me. They can't feel one another, so they came to our world for touch and pleasure.

From that day on, I only experience my husband's touch. And the touch of the women he would bring to our bed.

Melany's Boyfriend

My roommate left the door to her room wide open. I had left mine open a crack. I could hear their murmurs drifted across the hall. Melany laughed. It was deep and throaty and full of suggestion.

I fought the urge to groan and slid deeper under my covers.

Her giggles turned into a sigh. I never realized how much I could hear from my room.

Her boyfriend's deep voice rumbled, then purred. A squeak of a mattress. The rustle of sheets.

I pictured them together. Josh's mouth firmly attached to the breasts I loved so much. Melany's arms wrapped around his head and shoulders holding him to her, her long slender legs wrapped around his waist.

I squeezed my own breasts and I placed myself in this mental image. Josh's mouth was on my breast, biting, squeezing the nipple tightly between his fingers. Melany's mouth grasping the nipple of my other breast. Our eyes meeting. Her look is playful.

***

She crept quietly into my bed. The smell of sex clung to her body. I just hoped that she wouldn't smell the lust that was still damp on my own hands.

"I left the door open," she said. "Did you hear us?"

"No," I lied looking away.

"Really, I heard you," she said. She grabbed my chin and pulled my face closer to her. "I was hoping that you would join us."

Her soft lips grazed mine once, twice then settle for a light kiss. I shivered. My lips parted and her tongue flicked across my open mouth. She pulled my bottom lip into her mouth and sucked gently for just a moment before releasing it.

She pulled back and looked into my eyes. Her eyes were laughing. My vision was slightly blurred and I suspect that my eyes were slightly crossed.

She leaned forward again, with her head tilted slightly to the side and placed her mouth firmly against mine. Her tongue slid easily into my mouth and caressed the inside. My tongue danced and played with hers in return. Her hand slid down my arm and over the small of my back. She pulled me close to her, our nipples clashing and poking at each other.

My hand found its way to her waist and squeezed her tightly in return.

---

A little ditty that revolves around my misspent youth. Ah, to be young again.

Did it really happen? In a sense. Listening to my roommate make love to her boyfriend and, later, making love to her myself -- really happened. it's just the events happened weeks apart instead of within hours.