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New Stage
חיפוש בבמה

שם משתמש או מספר
סיסמתך
[ אני רוצה משתמש! ]
[ איבדתי סיסמה ): ]


מדורי במה







ג'פרי דירדן
/
the end (מתורגם)

I watched her as she streached one of her beutifull long
legs to the keyboard, pressing the key that would make the
music start,
And as the room filled with the soothing sounds of The Doors
I could think only one thing..
Those long legs, that gentle white skin, such soft curves,
young girls don't have legs so delicat, so pure and
innocent, she is hardly a girl though.
My eyes sliped down her feet, washed in the current of her
silky ankles up to her thighs, for some reason I began
feeling a strange sensation in my mouth... I closed my eyes
as hard as I could, in the most childish manner, the way
that makes your whole expression change. she leaghed, I can
only guess that it was becouse of the way I looked at that
moment, but I didn't open my eyes to see where she was
looking or the expression on her face. I knew that in the
moment I would open my eyes all the blocks, barriers and
damms will brake and that the love I managed to keep locked
inside for so much time and in such success will burst out
and flow like a river of raging water that would devestate
everything in it's path and sweep me away to the fall, to
shatter on the rocks I knew up-close for so many times
before.
In the meantime all I have to hold on to is the deep voice
of Jim Morrison and the faint smell of alchohol that allways
accompanies The Doors... for me.
I want to reach for the buttle but my eyes refuse to open, I
search for it blindly and she leaghs again, and again that
giglish childish leagh that achoes in my chest, making crack
after crack in my damm and I'm running out of fingers.
I can hear her moving, maby getting up, doing something, I
search on for the bottle, knocking and even braking a glass
and still wont open my eyes, still too scared and suddenly,
the bottle finds its own way to my hand, or was it... handed
to me, I can smell the intoxicating smell of her hair as I
bring the bottle closer to my mouth, the alchohol, the
effect of which seems trivial in comparrison, flows through
me like a gentle stream, relaxing. My lips hold on to the
bottle as if succlling reassuring mother's milk from it,
allready filled but still afraid to let go.
After an infinity of a few seconds frozen togather in time
the bottle was taken from me, too week to struggle I give
up, the warm sensation in my belly declares it's existance
and the alchohol starts coursing through my vains, but I'm
allready addicted to another drug, she takes my hand and
puts it on her perfect breasts, only now I realize she took
off her clothes while I was searching for the bottle, my
mouth opens and clings to her warm neck, eyes still closed,
my other hand timidly carresses her inner thighs which close
on it, trapping it blissfull in between, she whispers a soft
moan into my ear and retreats, my eyes open by themselves
and infront of me appere two round jades, smiling, half
closed, with a day-dreaming gaze, staring right through
me...

"this is the end, my only friend, the end, of all elaborate
plans, the end, of everything that stands, the end, no safty
or surprise, the end, I`ll never look into your eyes...
again"







loading...
חוות דעת על היצירה באופן פומבי ויתכן שגם ישירות ליוצר

לשלוח את היצירה למישהו להדפיס את היצירה
היצירה לעיל הנה בדיונית וכל קשר בינה ובין
המציאות הנו מקרי בהחלט. אין צוות האתר ו/או
הנהלת האתר אחראים לנזק, אבדן, אי נוחות, עגמת
נפש וכיו''ב תוצאות, ישירות או עקיפות, שייגרמו
לך או לכל צד שלישי בשל מסרים שיפורסמו
ביצירות, שהנם באחריות היוצר בלבד.
העבודה לא
משחררת


תרומה לבמה




בבמה מאז 24/2/03 6:44
האתר מכיל תכנים שיתכנו כבלתי הולמים או בלתי חינוכיים לאנשים מסויימים.
אין הנהלת האתר אחראית לכל נזק העלול להגרם כתוצאה מחשיפה לתכנים אלו.
אחריות זו מוטלת על יוצרי התכנים. הגיל המומלץ לגלישה באתר הינו מעל ל-18.
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