Key Genius's Blog, page 206
November 13, 2015
#jazzcafèmilano #milan #night
#jazzcafèmilano #milan #night
#lamborghini #milan #italy #luxury #car Lambo :*
#lamborghini #milan #italy #luxury #car
Lambo :*
#milan #day #night #italy
#milan #day #night #italy
#benbarnes #westworld #snoopy #woodstock Also Snoopy can’t wait...
#benbarnes #westworld #snoopy #woodstock
Also Snoopy can’t wait Westworld! :D
#heartofflesh Excerpt from Chapter 6- Love will tear us apart again
“Susy!” he exclaims, eyes open wide.
She smiles and nods.
He strokes her face, rediscovering the happy, curious
little eyes and sweet, magnetic look from long ago. Specks of Nutella on that
soft, delicate mouth. Puffy, rosy cheeks over smooth, red cheekbones. In that
so smooth hair, a rebellious mane, always full of tufts of grass.
“Susy…” he repeats, amazed.
Her eyes haven’t changed, only she had such a light
inside. And she still has it.
“I’m older now. You could call me Sus-”
Without letting her finish, he
jumps up, grabs her around the waist, squeezes her tightly and lifts her up. He
swings around on the spot as she throws her arms around his neck. They spin
around, on their personal merry-go-round of memories, happy and moved to have
found each other again.
Andrea holds her head and kisses her on the cheek, on
the forehead and even on her henna scented hair.
He has his sweet Susy
in his arms. His affection for her had only been locked away in his heart, and when
she looks at him and calls him dear Andrea again, the lock is opened and
a lovely glow warms his soul.
November 12, 2015
#HeartOfFlesh excerpt from Chapter 15- #BurningThirst
An hour has passed, but Susy hasn’t returned, so he tries
to call her.
“Hi,” she answers.
From her annoyed tone, Andrea fears that she is
offended.
“Are you not coming?” he says, as if nothing
was wrong. “I’m waiting for you.”
She takes a breath. “Doctor Messi can see me
now?” she replies, irritated.
Andrea smirks and goes for a joke. “Yes, the
doctor can see you now.”
“I’m coming,” she says. “Anyway, you’re
stupid!” she hangs up.
Andrea shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling.
“We’re not together, but I still get all the problems of a relationship. None of the benefits, though.
What a pain!” he blurts, putting his phone on the table.
He walks to the door, opens it, and goes out to the
gate to smoke a cigarette while waiting for her.
The sun is setting, turning everything red and so intensifying
even the smallest things: the hedges are aflame with ruby reflections and the
houses embarrassed by the strength of the sky, now striped and laying streaks
of fire on the sidewalk.
He has almost finished it when he sees Susy appear
from the corner at the end of the street. She’s striding decisively, her hands
in her denim jacket pockets. Wearing an, all too short, pair of shorts, her
toned legs sway with every step, arousing new dreams in him. But,
unfortunately, she has her chin up to one side and a hard expression.
She is angry and, put into this boiling setting, it doesn’t
bode well.
She sees him, but carries on walking slowly.
“Come on, it’s getting dark,” he encourages
her.
The sun has gone down completely when he closes the
gate behind her. She stops at the door and waits for him to open it wide for
her. “Please, come in,” he says.
“Thank you,” she says dryly, walks in and
stops.
Andrea shuts the door and beckons her into the living
room. “Do you want something to drink?” he asks.
“Coke. Thanks,” she replies without looking
at him.
“I don’t have any. Sorry.”
“Why ask then?” she replies, unusually rude.
“Water, then.” And she goes into the living room.
Andrea makes a face at her while she has her back to
him, but also delights in her brazenly strutting figure. Without realizing, she
gives him an extraordinary thrill every time her shorts are lifted by those
decisive steps.
He wipes his mouth, takes a deep breath, and goes into
the kitchen to take a glass and fill it with cold sparkling water. Before
putting it back again, he brushes his face with the cool bottle. The remnants
of his dream are still with him and those shorts have exposed the soft parts that
he had nibbled at in the freedom of his fantasy.
He closes the fridge and joins her in the living room.
She is sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed, one
of which sways and brushes her calves. The sound of rubbing skin tickles his
back and it quivers suddenly.
“Your water,” he says, putting the glass on
the table.
“Thanks,” she says, looking at the cabinet
in front of her. She gets up slowly and opens her denim jacket, freeing each
button from its hole with a flap
sound that then echoes in his head. Opening her jacket with both hands, she has
a thin, low cut, pink top that leaves nothing to the imagination.
Andrea feels a thud to his heart on seeing that she isn’t
wearing a bra. Feeling the onset of dizziness, he puts his hand down to lean
against the table.
Susanna stretches her arms out behind her back and lowers
her head. Her hair falls forward and licks her hard nipples. Impudent in their
round perfection, they pierce her top.
She lets the jacket slide down her arms and fall onto
the sofa, then turns around and bends down, throwing her heart of flesh in his
face. It’s so magnificent that he blinks in disbelief: a perfect round heart, its
hollow is accentuated by the seam of her shorts.
Susanna arches her back and he seems to appear
without warning, like a guest who has turned up by chance.
Andrea feels a terrible stabbing pain in his head
while she rummages in her jacket with a slight sway that almost hypnotizes him.
He rubs his forehead, open-mouthed.
It’s too late to run for cover. He’s at the mercy of an
ever growing desire.
“There it is!” she says suddenly, sitting back
down and hiding her face behind a sheet of paper.
She kicks off her white sneakers and, with a
harmonious movement, slides her feet under her thighs. Her smooth flesh now
makes a thin line of light stand out. It goes up and hides itself inside her
shorts; a mirage that sparks in him the temptation to follow it to the oasis
and quench his thirst. Her back arches sinuously, making everything stand out
in a full-blooded filter that the rest of the world has never known.
“Come here,” she taps the cushion.
Andrea takes a step forward, feeling emotions normally
forbidden in a simple friendship. He can only try to tame them now.
What’s more, he doesn’t understand what she’s doing.
She’s provoking him on purpose. Why?
He takes another step forward, rubbing his hands on
his pants to dry them off.
What does she expect him to do? What does she want?
One more step and his stomach stiffens.
She’s never exposed herself like this.
The tip of his shoe touches the sofa and he turns
around slowly to sit down, holding his knees.
She stretches her chest out along the sofa, moves towards
him and lifts her arm, brushing his neck and shoulder.
Andrea feels like he really could lose control. He pulls
his knees together tightly, no idea what is going on any more. He’s drunk on
her intense fragrance, driving him wild.
“Read this,” she puts the paper in front of
him, but he can’t make out the words, only blurred black lines.
He rubs his eyes, but can feel the softness of her
breasts against his elbow, so turns quickly.
She pants and looks at him with her mouth half open.
Her breasts rise and fall frenetically; startling him and making him lose
concentration with their fresh longing to seek attention.
He takes his eyes away to stop the last drop of desire
from breaking a self control that is now full of cracks. But she brushes his
neck with her fingers and tickles his ear.
So Andrea takes hold of her face and goes for a first
kiss, removing the distance between them.
But she …
“Heart of Flesh” is coming… ;)
#heartofflesh #book #ebook #read
#heartofflesh #book #ebook #read
My novel #heartofflesh, soon …
A video posted by IAN (@key_genius_ian) on Nov 11, 2015 at 12:57pm PST
My novel #heartofflesh, soon …
