A Picture is Worth a 1000 Words Contest

Title: Bleak

My pen name: Obsessedmom

Inspirational photo - number 1

To view the photos for this contest visit: http://i618(DOT)photobucket(DOT)com/albums/tt268/Rosalynn7885/contestcollage(DOT)png

Rating: M


Why does Edward look so forlorn? Find out why he has such a tortured soul as he sits on the cabin's steps pondering his past.

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How could he have left me?

Our life together had been going along swimmingly. We each had our own careers in different cities. But once every six weeks we met at this cabin in the woods. Equal distance from each of our homes it offered the anonymity and privacy we needed.

For three days and two nights every six weeks I was fulfilled and filled. Those hours were what kept me going for the thirty-nine days between our times together.


We had met in an airport bar a dozen years ago. Amazing what an extended layover, boredom, and copious amounts of alcohol will let you reveal to a complete stranger. The fates must have aligned that night to bring him into my life.

When the desires of the heart and of the flesh combine to torment you, you can move heaven and earth to find a way to sate the desires burning in your loins.

That's what we did.

There was a ramshackle of a cabin that had been left unclaimed in my great-uncle's will. No one in the family wanted the burden. I volunteered to take over paying the property taxes and it became mine.

It was a three hour drive from my home. I went whenever I had a day off to make it habitable.

I called him as soon as the cabin was ready and we arranged to meet in two weeks. I was on tenterhooks the entire time.

My co-workers commented on my anxious, distracted behavior. I tried to rein in the emotions that coursed through me those weeks but wasn't very successful. Even now years later the days leading up to our reunions would leave me glassy-eyed with anticipation.

I would think about his blond silken curls hanging longish over his collar. I would dream of his steel blue-gray eyes that could flash with delight or darken with a hungry passion. His long lean body, only slightly taller than my own, was sinewy and muscular. My fingers yearned to trail up and down his torso and dip along that defined V leading me to his manhood. Every part drew me in. It wasn't just his physical attributes that enticed me. His quick wit and sharp mind enthralled me. His vast knowledge and many interests made our talks last for hours. We could debate on many topics but it never left us at an impasse or got in the way of our intimacy.

On our weekends together we shared our common pursuits. In good weather we would take long hikes in the woods surrounding the property. In foul weather we would stay inside playing long games of chess or read in front of the fire with my head in his lap. In the evenings we would curl up together on the couch under the heavy green and blue plaid woolen throw, the fire crackling, and watch movies.

As much as we enjoyed these things, the parts of our visits that occupied most of our time together were spent attending to each other's body. Worshipping each contour of his body and he of mine. The actual sexual act was secondary to the intimacy of reveling in the exploration of every inch of skin. The dip behind his clavicle and the rise of his Adam's apple were explored with fingers and mouth alike. The light dusting of curls on his chest and lower down the slightly darker curls that formed a trail I could not but help to follow.

The trail would always lead me home. His manhood would stand tall and proud, the silken texture of his skin belied the steely hardness within. I would trace each ridge softly with my lips before enveloping him in my mouth. His skin tasted like hints of cinnamon-sugar, vanilla, and wood-smoke. He tantalized and teased me as his actions mimicked my own and I would moan around his length as he took me deep in his throat. Our actions shadowing the other's until neither could hold back any longer and our orgasms would overtake our bodies until we fell in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs.

We were both young men and our recovery time was brief before the animal rose once again and we took each other. He always climbed above me first, spreading my legs wide and raising my hips on his knees as he knelt before me. His long finger would probe and prepare me to accommodate his length, stretching me, lubricating me, until he felt me relaxed and ready for him. His actions held no hesitation and would plunge quickly and deeply within me forcing the breath from my lungs. Then his tortuous strokes would impale me, switching from fast to slow then fast again. He played me like an instrument balancing me on the brink of my climax until his soft palm wrapped around me stroking me over the precipice and sending me into the abyss of sweet relief.

When we recovered, taking a break for sustenance, we resumed our folly having reversed our roles. I would prepare him much in the same manner as he had I. Our lovemaking varied here as I did not plunge, but would inch by glorious inch enter into him. Languorously I would slide in and out going only slightly deeper with each stroke. I could take hours until I was fully seated within him as he would begin to twitch and beg me for his release I finally took up his rapid pace and my hand following until we met our releases.


So why was I so bleak?

I had lost my true love to another. This weekend was like no other, for as we rose from bed the last morning of our stay he reached into his suitcase and handed me a vellum envelope. I took it in tentative hands opening it to reveal a wedding announcement.

Mary Alice Brandon
Jasper Whitlock

Announce their marriage
Sunday, the seventh of March
Two Thousand Ten

A/N I would like to thank Irena (CrashHale), Tess318, and Joayla for their support and help in paring this down to the required 1,000 words. I think they felt my own heartbreak in removing anything from the story, but rules are rules…

This is my first attempt at slash and I hope it was successful. It just felt like this was the right pairing with this photo.

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