Tagged: kiss

I Didn’t Care Why She’d had a Xylophone Glued to her Head

  • by jenBetween every single smooch I was sopping up sweat
  • Jeepers creepers!
  • the standard inking method
  • enters her wedding night tongue-tied
  • weirdly pleasing metallic smell

Tune in next time part 789      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I didn’t care why she’d had a xylophone glued to her head. Simply knowing that Tessa was an ultra-secret spy was a total turn-on. I leaned over and kissed her, hard, on the mouth. The pickle brine on her tongue made my eyes sting, and her kisses raised my body heat. Between every single smooch I was sopping up sweat with the tablecloth, but I kept going back for more.

“Jeepers creepers!” Tessa cried. “You’re going to drown us both!”

“I’ll be dehydrated soon,” I murmured, in what I hoped was a seductive voice. I must have been wrong because Tessa immediately started talking about tattoos again, and how the standard inking method wouldn’t work if she used the pickle skewer, but she was willing to improvise.

“Tessa, no. No improvisation. No tattoos.”

“You’re acting like some blushing bride who enters her wedding night tongue-tied and scandalized, but I know you. You’re a man of the world. You’re the sort of man whose copious sweat has a weirdly pleasing metallic smell. The kind of man who is up for anything. The kind of man who–”

She was interrupted by a deep voice booming from the depths of the pickle chapel. “The kind of man who’s about to get his ass kicked.”

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The Leader of the Mimes

  • by jenDying men rarely scream.
  • with a perverted mind
  • kissed hers with exceptional vivacity
  • their treatment is baloney
  • “Married,” repeated the old lady.

Tune in next time part 289                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

The leader of the mimes straightened his imaginary mortarboard. He pushed his imaginary glasses up on his nose and unfurled a scroll that was nothing but a figment, readying himself to deliver the verdict. For several moments he stood in deep concentration, making notes and doing some sort of complicated math to tally our scores. Just as he readied his pointing finger to indicate whether Jason or I was the winner, he let loose a horrific strangled shriek and toppled to the ground. A flaming arrow protruded from his back. Dying men rarely scream. Dying mimes, on the other hand, make the most godawful racket, like every sound they’d kept bottled up throughout their careers all tried to escape at once.

“It’s the fire eaters!” Tessa cried.

You can say I’m a man with a perverted mind, but seeing Tessa in nothing but clown makeup was really doing it for me, even with the Guild of Fire Eaters on the attack. I sprang  between Tessa and Jason, pinched Jason’s lips shut with my fingers, and kissed hers with exceptional vivacity. They were slimy with greasepaint, but it was kind of sexy.

Jason’s lips slipped out of my grip. “Hey! Stop it!” he lisped. “This is my ceremony!”

Flaming arrows rained down around us. I tried to tell Jason to buzz off, but Tessa wouldn’t let me break our kiss until three more mimes were hit and their greasepaint ignited. Their comrades charged, wrapping them in invisible blankets to smother the flames. One of them pulled out a tube of burn cream.

“Oh ugh,” Tessa said, grabbing my hand. “Let’s get out of here. Their treatment is baloney-scented. It’s really gross.”

I trusted Tessa’s knowledge of all things mime. She’d been their captive for months, years ago.

I allowed her to pull me into the dense jungle, with Jason on our heels. The fire eaters’ ire seemed concentrated on the mimes and they didn’t follow us. Soon we tumbled out of the dense foliage and into a small village of houses made from solar panels.

An old woman was reclining in a hammock, strumming a guitar. As soon as he saw her, Jason began to complain. “Can you believe this? I’m supposed to be having a fertility ritual with Tessa right now, but she can’t stop kissing my brother. And he’s married!”

“Married,” repeated the old lady. “How bourgeois!”

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I Am Well-Versed in the Pianist’s Code

  • by jen“I’ve known her since grade school.”
  • just across the Mississippi state line
  • the extraordinary nature of his luggage
  • her late husband’s secret torments
  • and now wears a hood to protect his identity

Tune in next time part 267                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

I am well-versed in the pianist’s code, so reading the message on Tesla’s fingernails would have been easy if only she’d kept them all in view. Instead she played me like a piano, her delicate fingers dancing all over my body.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I thought. “I’ve known her since grade school.”

Tesla’s fingers continued their intricate dance, down my torso and just across the Mississippi state line, if you will, which was currently obscured by layers of balloon animals. She seemed pleased with what she found there, and said many flattering things about my package.

“What’s going on?” I heard Jason lisp from the hatch overhead. “I can’t see past all these balloon animals.”

William Sausage sighed. “She’s cooing about the extraordinary nature of his luggage at the moment.”

Jason called down, “We’re twins you know. Identical. My ‘luggage’ is just as nice as his.”

Tesla somehow ignored all the chatter going on over our heads. Between the squealing shrieks of the balloon animals, she murmured to me about her late husband’s secret torments.

“Yves is dead?” I asked in surprise.

“He might as well be,” she said. “He’s so ashamed of himself for breaking the vows of mime by speaking, that he changed his name and now wears a hood to protect his identity.”

She kissed me and I tasted grease paint. Grease paint and something else.

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I Almost Sprained My Tongue

  • by jenI’m not who you think I am
  • English and Swiss boarding schools
  • it wasn’t coming just straight down
  • step out of the queue
  • A rather unexpected smile

Tune in next time part 173                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

I almost sprained my tongue, but in the end I managed to deliver the message. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m his twin brother.”

The woman’s own tongue action was very crisp and meticulous, suggesting she’d been educated in the best English and Swiss boarding schools before attending the Academy.

Our passing of information to each other through vigorous tongue movements must have looked a lot like a passionate kiss. Valentine Village’s many cherub-costumed employees went out of their way to celebrate and encourage such signs of love. When they spotted us they fired their confetti cannons. We were suddenly engulfed in tiny bits of colorful paper, and it wasn’t coming just straight down, but swirling madly on gusts of wind. I decided to take advantage of the unexpected camouflage and “step out of the queue,” as it were, to escape from my donut-loving captor and find Tessa on my own.

I pulled away from the green-haired woman mid-sentence. A rather unexpected smile rested on her lips. It was a very nasty smile, even though it was soon speckled with confetti.

And suddenly my mind put the pieces together. The wild hair, the posh education, the quick thinking with the raffle ticket. This woman could only be the rogue mime Setsuko, and that meant I was in deep shit.

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Despite Jason’s Protestations

  • by jenunder the influence of a magnetic force
  • spasmodic efforts to smile
  • all alone — at night
  • the jury convicted Kelly
  • We passed upon the stairs

Tune In Next Time Part 42                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Despite Jason’s protestations, Lyudmila and I were under the influence of a magnetic force that drew our lips together again and again. Some might call it love, but I knew better. We made out in the entryway of the little church while my brother glared at us and made spasmodic efforts to smile, trying to look like he didn’t really mind, but he and I are twins and I could tell just what he was thinking. He was plotting to get me away from Lyudmila, and everyone else. He wanted me all alone — at night preferably, when the darkness would cloak him more effectively than his ostentatious stage garb ever could, and in that darkness he would make me pay for what had happened with Tessa, and what was happening now with Lyudmila, and most of all for everything that befell Kelly, the love of his life. It wasn’t my fault the jury convicted Kelly and not me, but Jason would never listen to me about that. We passed upon the stairs in the courthouse after my testimony, and that’s the last I saw him before today.

When finally I had reviewed all of the details of that sordid event, and when I was done kissing Lyudmila, I turned to him and said, “Jason.”

His lips twitched into a twisted grin. “Who are you calling Jason, Jason?”

Lyudmila gasped and took a step away from me. Her eyes flitted between me and my duplicitous twin, not knowing which of us was really Jason and which of us was really me.

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I Stand in the Rain

  • by jencan’t you hear the thunder?
  • “You shut up!”
  • one gold, one black
  • brown skin and a flat skull
  • Leonard is a strange person

I stand in the rain, gazing at the man beside me. Leonard is a strange person, but undeniably attractive. His eyes entrance me, one gold, one black, nestled in brown skin and a flat skull like faberge eggs in an ornate display case.

I try to tell him I love him, but he leans in close. “Can’t you hear the thunder?” he whispers in my ear, making me shiver. “That rumbling is Zeus’s way of saying ‘You shut up!’ to us mortals.”

I try once more to speak. Leonard’s ornately colored eyes hold mine and he lays his finger across my lips. “Shhh,” he breathes, “you don’t want to anger Zeus.”

And he’s right. I don’t. I lean in and press my lips to his just as a bright bolt of lightning illuminates the sky.

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As I Lay Here With You

  • dark thorn stuck in the skin
  • and there he lay for eighteen months
  • It was fascinating.
  • “I mean, obviously.”
  • as I lay here with you

Kent’s Take

k-avatar“As I lay here with you, I think of him. Not just his physical aspect, warmth and solidness, but his humor and his regrets. So I wonder about your regrets. We began as colleagues, and bonded over the riddle of the dark thorn stuck in the skin of a quarantined banana. It was fascinating. We ruled out every known kind of plant that produces thorns, so in the end we failed to determine whether this one might be dangerous, or deduce anything useful about where those bananas had been. But researching it side-by-side for a year and a half was how you and I fused into a single entity. He knew it was happening. He collapsed on the sofa the first night, sobbing, and there he lay for eighteen months. One day he was gone. I hear that now he only eats bananas.”

“I mean, obviously.”

 

Jen’s Take

“by jenAs I lay here with you, I am reminded of a weird, feminist retelling of Sleeping Beauty, where it was the prince who pricked his finger and fell asleep. Instead of a misadventure with a spinning wheel, the prince encountered an enchanted rose bush belonging to a witch. He made a ham-fisted attempt at plucking a bloom for his girlfriend and got jabbed. The dark thorn stuck in the skin of his index finger and he fell over, unconscious, on the garden path, and there he lay for eighteen months until he was awakened by a kiss from the valiant female gardener. It was fascinating.”

“I mean, obviously.” Jacinda smiled. “That’s why you never shut up about it.”

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The Kremlin Cupolas Shone

  • k-avatarslapped the monk’s face
  • stop shooting, you fools!
  • most novices ate it with relish
  • work intelligently, rather than spectacularly
  • the Kremlin cupolas shone against a pale summer sky
  • “Go ahead, kiss her.”

The Kremlin cupolas shone against a pale summer sky, and bells rang out the lunchtime hour. Since its conversion into a  monastery, the former fortress boasted far fewer tanks, and marginally better food.

Brother Ivan wished the cooks would strive to work intelligently, rather than spectacularly. Years of eating the ornate fare left him bored by all the gold leaf and sugar sculptures, although most novices ate it with relish.

The walls shook, signaling that some of those novices were skipping lunch to play in a tank, and had found some ammunition. “Stop shooting, you fools!” screamed the abbot as he charged outside.

After the meal, Ivan strolled in Red Square with Brother Boris. They came upon a pretty young lady with a sign reading, “Smoochies, $1.”

“Go ahead, kiss her,” Ivan suggested. The woman slapped the monk’s face. “Pay first,” she insisted.

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He’s the Kind of Guy Who Keeps a List of Judicial Candidates

  • by jenhas her gargle with salt water
  • a jar of warm sputum
  • judicial candidates with humorous names
  • and then he’d wave
  • the Swiss bank account of a total stranger

He’s the kind of guy who keeps a list of judicial candidates with humorous names to choose his aliases from. The kind of guy who takes his date to an orgy, but then has her gargle with salt water before he’ll kiss her afterwards. He probably collects it so that he has a jar of warm sputum to remember her by. And then he’d wave and send her off into the night on her own so that he could sit at his computer and try to hack his way into the Swiss bank account of a total stranger. In other words, he’s just like all the rest. OKCupid sucks.

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2013 Holiday Prompt

In this special holiday edition, the stichomancy prompt phrases were all taken from Christmas carols. Jen and Kent both tackled the same set, with markedly different results. Whose do you prefer?

  • so lively and quick
  • dashing through the snow
  • he began to dance around
  • tis the season to be jolly
  • nine ladies dancing
  • when we finally kiss goodnight

k-avatarKent’s take:

“I forgot these things were so lively and quick,” Herb remarked, drawing a bead on one of the creatures dashing through the snow in the clearing.

“And I forgot they bite! Ow!” exclaimed Remmy as he began to dance around holding one boot up out of the deep drifts, a creature dangling from the toe.

Herb chuckled, prompting Remmy to ask him with some vehemence just what was so damn funny.

“Oh, nothing. Just, tis the season to be jolly, I suppose,” drawled Herb in reply.

Remmy shook the xenopod loose and stomped it, muttering about better times before the invasion. “I’ve had enough for one day. Let’s go get drunk at the Nine Ladies Dancing. I’ll buy.”

“Okay,” Herb said. “I’d like to see that sweet little barmaid again anyway.” Herb’s opinions on the invasion were slightly more mixed. “When we finally kiss goodnight, I’ll find out what those suckers on her tongue feel like.”

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by jenJen’s take:

My blind date with Bertram started out well enough. I found him to be so lively and quick-witted that I was able to overlook his unfortunate ears. I thought him quite galant when he offered to pay for dinner, but halfway through the meal he began to dance around in his seat like he had to pee. Then he grumbled at our waiter, “It’s winter, dude! Tis the season to be jolly well sozzled so you don’t notice the cold! Bring me a yard of Schnapps! And one for the lady.”

He finished his shots in record time, and most of mine, all the while telling the tale of a bachelor party he’d recently attended where there were no fewer than nine ladies dancing naked. I was unimpressed.

Bertram’s fate was sealed when he said to me, “Hey babe, when we finally kiss goodnight, I’m going to slip you the tongue.”

Horrified, I left him at the table and went dashing through the snow and wind all the way to the subway station so he couldn’t follow me home.

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