Author S. K. Nicholas

A dirty blonde with quick wrists collapses under the weight of her own vanity as somewhere in an English field the birds quit their singing just long enough for me to catch my breath. She’s slender, too slender some would say, but every time she undresses my throat tightens, and I wouldn’t want her any other way. Such pretty eyes, so big and wide and blinking as I follow while foaming at the mouth. She’s a flower, and I’m just this broken machine that stains the ground with oil. Nothing ever grows where I tread, and that’s why I pump her as hard as I can- because I want to take her with me. A villain through and through, despite my charming ways, the end is all I ever seek. As we rise through the stalks of corn, we cast away the sun as somewhere overhead a low flying aircraft twists through the air with one of its engines on fire. Crashing some distance from where we come to a halt, I tear off her dress and gaze at her nude body. Stood there waiting for my touch, she plays with a curl of auburn hair as fire spreads through the corn. I don’t know her name, and nor do I want to. She’s young, maybe eighteen. Life to her is an adventure, but to me, it’s a plague. With the sky on the verge of collapsing, we fuck to the sounds of a thousand labias fluttering in the idle breeze. Butterflies landing on her outstretched hand as I disappear within, each memory of mine is erased along with the last traces of my faith. Sensations dripping from her mouth, my fingers smear them around her nipples, and although she’s somewhat flat-chested, her nipples are big, bigger than any I’ve ever seen. Talking in her sleep, the weeds around her feet cling to her toes. Slipping beneath her skin, they flower inside like my seed, but by now I’m long gone- a shadow that never was. A bullet hangs suspended over a full-length mirror. It’s captured so much, and although my hands are now at rest, it knows the fury that flows through my veins. In it, she gazes. In it, she sees but knows so little. The other side is where we dance. The flip side. The place where we come undone.