Hello and welcome to My Sexy Saturday. This is where writers post either 7 words, 7 sentences or 7 paragraphs from their published work or work in progress, sticking to the week’s theme, which today is underneath you're sexy.
My 7 paragraphs are taken from a story called Shy Bird in my collection, Stories for When the Sun Goes Down. Shy Bird was originally published in Coming Together Triumphantly which is a charity anthology that deals with reclaiming the body and sexuality after trauma. It contains stories of triumph, of healing, and of appreciating the body and its abilities after (and in spite of) the changes brought about by illness/injury. All proceeds from the sale of collection benefit the National Women's Health Network.
Shy Bird is set in the Norfolk Broads, UK and stars Ray, a rough and tough biker bloke recovering from a nasty motorbike accident and coming to terms with the scars on his face and body. He's fallen for Lisa, a shy, bird-watching fanatic who has made him feel that life is worth living again even though she is a far cry from the wild women he used to date. And what do they have in common? - The Wirral Ornithological Society!
“Thank goodness.” He smiled briefly then kissed me, softly, sweetly, his tongue just skirting into my mouth, the tip warm and wet and laced with the whiskey tea we’d just drunk.
“Ah, you taste divine,” he said, pulling back.
I smiled and licked my lips, drawing his flavor into my mouth. Reaching up, I traced the scars at the center of his cheek then followed one of the trails to his nose and over to the outer corner of his eye. They were smooth on the tip of my finger, flat, they were part of Ray and they’d brought him my way. For that reason I would always adore them.
“I love you too,” I whispered, “I have done for so long.” I set down my mug, feeling bashful that I’d said what was in my heart but also feeling freer because of it.
Suddenly he was kissing me again, harder this time, more urgent. I opened up and let him in, slid my hands over his shoulders and hung on tight. My breasts were pressed into his wide chest, my nipples spiking against my bra. His heat, his scent, his taste consumed my senses.
“Jesus,” he muttered pulling back. “I’ve waited so long to kiss you, hold you. I didn’t think you would want to, what with me like this, all messed up and—”
“Ray.” I rested my index finger over his lips. “Please, don’t say that. I think you’re gorgeous, beautiful. And if it wasn’t for these marks on your face then you wouldn’t even be here, let alone be kissing me.”
You can read Shy Bird in Stories for When the Sun Goes Down
Or grab it in Coming Together Triumphantly.