Desire blues

[morgia]

Hello,

This is my first original story in English. This fic is for the beautiful frakkin_addict  . Its a present for her. I hope you'll enjoy :) 
wykling is my wonderful beta, thanks so much my friend for your honesty and to believe in me.   I don't know who will read it, but if you do, please, comment. Creation is important for me, I love writing Torchwood fics, but I feel the desire to write something else, I need to finish my own novel.  To write this helped me in this way.

Characters: Original characters.
Genre: slash, w/w mention of sex,
Summary: An artist is alone in a bar, searching affection... A young woman catches her eyes...

Enjoy :)

 

Desire blues…

 

 

The sound of jazz echoes through the air, glides over her body and caresses it like liquid velvet. Only few regular customers are present; that’s why she chose this bar, she needs to be in a quiet place. The artist had a great evening, her paintings seem to have left a deep impression on potential buyers and on a couple of gallery owners too. She knows she’s a good artist, she makes good money and often travels between Europe and America for her art. But, at times, like tonight, she simply loses herself in time, in space, when she doesn’t know anymore where she is. At times this life seems just too tremendous for her.

 

It was another great preview at the art gallery.  Many people were present, even critics and journalists were there. It was another moment of glory for her. But in between the smothered sound of the crowd, the compliments, the fake smiles, the alcohol and the laughs, she began to lose herself.

 

The artist feels exhausted,  lonely. She thinks about Clara, she should have called her earlier.. The artist smiles… Clara… They were so young when they fell in love. We had eternity… Twenty years later Clara has become a brilliant piano teacher in college and she a notorious artist. For a period of time Clara followed everywhere she went; her lips, her eyes, her skin, her… Love… 

 

But now, the artist is alone, somewhere in London, in a bar she doesn’t know, letting jazz music caress her soul. Clara doesn’t want to travel with her anymore, she teaches now; and she‘s waiting at their house in San Francisco… And I am here, alone, desperate for any sort of affection…

 

Elbows against the counter, the artist savors the floating music and the warmth of the brandy which burns her from the inside. After couple of drinks she feels better. A smile dances on her lips. Then, she hears laughter, clear like a crystal, bursting through the air; a group of young women enters the place.

 

One especially catches her attention; she’s like a fresh rain in warmth summer evening. The artist stares at the newcomer for a moment. She must be something around nineteen, like we were the first time…The woman loves to flirt, to seduce, to taste gorgeous lips… She knows she’s still desirable, she can see it in the eyes of the men and women she meets. At her age of forty years, she knows exactly what she needs, and tonight she needs to have fun…

 

The young woman doesn’t seem to have noticed her yet. Then their eyes meet and she sees the fire burning softly inside. The artist smiles, she knows that the other woman wants her tonight. The game is simple, the young woman is easy to conquer; each single part of her young body practically cries for seduction. A soft caress, a sigh, the right words, gently whispered into her ears, a smile and the young woman accepts the invitation. The artist takes her soft hand and they exit the place.

 

She opens the hotel room’s door, she can feel the excitement and the tension in her young companion. With a shy smile, she tells the artist that it’s her first time with a girl. The artist comforts her with a smile, caresses her face and kisses her on the forehead. She’ll be mine all night long…

 

The artist presses her body against the young woman who answers with a surprised sigh but lets her have her way. The artist looks her in the eyes: It’s like she’s sparkling in my hands…The artist’s lips touch her soft skin, her neck, her eyelids. The delicate moans which exit the lips of the younger woman confirm her desire. The artist feels the fire burning inside of her, wants to put her on the edge, wants to hear her begging for more, wants to see her collapse out of satisfaction. She turns the other woman around, curls herself against her back and softly, she begins to move in a languorous dance.

 

The artist feels her desire, she wants more. Pressed against the other woman, her hands on her breasts, she searches her lips.  The young woman shivers under her caress, the artist knows she’s like a ripe fruit ready to be picked. When their mouths meet, she gives herself to the artist like an offering. Her lips are like peaches…

 

They relish in the presence of each other, taste the promises of the delectable sensations yet to follow. I feel alive…They are now face to face, excitement colors their cheeks. Carefully, the artist sheds her own clothes, never breaking eye contact between them. Now naked, she looks at the young woman, trying to control her breathing. The younger one touches herself, her breasts and her crotch; desire sparkling in her eyes. She walks toward the artist and takes her clothes off. In her glorious nakedness, she looks beautiful.

 

They lie down on the bed, their hands roaming over the body of their partner. They explore each other with lust, lick and bite; jerky breaths explode in the air. The young woman opens herself to the welcoming and new sensation like a precious rose. Both lose themselves in the pleasure, forgetting the world for a moment of eternity.

 

When the artist feels her young lover trembling under her tongue, she knows that she’s bringing her to the edge, when she watches the other woman collapsing underneath her body like a rag doll, when the artist has her begging desperately for a kiss, she knows that she has lost herself.

 

Her young lover curls up against her and falls asleep, pearls of desire beading down her soft skin. Beside her, the artist stares at the ceiling, desperately wishing for a different set of arms around her body.

 

A couple of hours later, when the door to the hotel room closes behind the other woman, the artist sighs profoundly. What did I do? She did what she knows best, she lost herself in a stranger’s arms. She never felt regret before. During all these years when she searched for pleasure and affection in a stranger’s arms, doubts and regrets never crossed her mind.

 

Because I knew Clara would wait for me...Clara…

 

The artist takes out her mobile and enters the number she knows too well. After few rings, a sleepy voice answers:

“Hello…?”

“Clara… It’s me…”

“Francoise? It’s late… Are you alright?”

“Clara... Breathe me..."

Clara sighs deeply on the other side of the line.

“What have you done Francoise?”

“I lost myself… again…”

“You should stop doing that…”

“I miss you…”

“Come home Francoise… I… I never let you down…”

“I love you Clara…”

Giggles echo from the speakers her phone.

“Ho shit, you really did a big mistake, don’t you?”

“Yes...”

“Come back to me…”

“Always…”

 

The woman curls herself up in the empty bed and closes her eyes. She falls asleep with a smile on her lips: she knows what love is.

 

The end

Breathe me is a reference of Sia's song, Breathe me... :)