THE GIRL WITH THE ORANGE PEEL SKIN
Word Count: 237
She insisted they make love in the dark. Each new man adjusting because after all, what else would they do?
Zora was astoundingly beautiful, aqua sea eyes, golden kelp hair, and skin curved and the color of sand. She naturally attracted men to her and they picked at her like mosquitoes, circling, nipping, circling. Then sucking her blood and leaving her bruised and bleeding until she learned to slap them away.
But it took a long time to learn.
She sprayed the sheets with a violet scent that matched the incense burning low. She always had music playing, loud and drowning the buzzing noise of the men, the rapping of the bed posts on the wall. In other words, Zora shut out the sounds, the sights and the scents of sex in order to focus on touch.
But she wouldn’t touch them.
Each new man was named Don. She liked the name Don. It was the name of her mother’s last lover. She would lie like a china doll, cool and remote while they hovered like flies above her. There were moments that built upon moments pyramiding her up to a climax that she could control to sync with her partner. That left no awkward wasteland between them that demanded her traveling. And no danger of shattering into pieces beneath them if they should fall.
No, she wouldn’t touch them. But at least, they couldn’t touch her.
great form, susan, marvelous how you pulled from and navigated between the adjacent (?) pieces – thank you!
Thank you, kind sir. This was admittedly not one of my best; it felt forced as sometimes happens when you’re working to a prompt rather than a real free association/inspiration. I loved what I chose to build upon, but then it got tangled up a bit and the story didn’t flow naturally.