You were up earlier to read the critique of your preliminary work on scene thirteen. Her words were a wake up call – points you would have never considered.
I feel bad because she has plenty to do in her life without helping me tackle passages I am unsure of. What I admire most about Amy is what I have always admired – her blatant honesty, no matter what the subject. Love you, Amy.
Now you need to heed her words and pull another draft, this time to put on the blog. – Amorella.
Preliminary Scene 13 drafting
1. Mattress on the floor in the early evening. Salamon, lay on his upraised back, supported by his elbows and focused on Sophia’s lower back. Sophia’s left hand rests on the mattress as she tucks and rests her right hand on his inner right thigh with a slight index and middle finger touch. She says, “Do you feel it now?”
Salamon’s satisfying smile remains unseen by Sophia. He replies straightforwardly, “Your lower spine is beautifully arched within.”
She inched her softly bent rump up and closer to his upper chest. “How’s this?” she asked patiently.
Salamon did not reply, enjoying instead the slight prickle of inner and outer feminine rounded parts across his ribs as well as the nearly unconscious contact with her left breast just above his left knee, did not reply.
Face bent down if she were speaking to her lover in totality, she whispers, “My dear Salamon, where are you?”
“I sense your unusual warmth but am little stirring,” he said, deeper voiced. “I am more interested in the widening of your backside.”
Sophia lightly squeezed her right hand, playfully and discretely. She appropriately commented, “A little stirring is truthfully put.” Such as it is, she thought. Mind alone outlines the body, hands in particular are easily and warmly felt. A sense of being whole once more is but an illusion understood. The mind must recreate the stirring of solid form and press the imagery is such a way that the hand can grasp even the unreality of once masculinity. This spongy tube of small warmth fills slightly within my fingers even without the long missed unconscious bodily functioning. The unanticipated pleasurable surprises trickle slow like perspiration along the ancient mysterious ways of innocent childhood in humankind. The heart and respiration when breathing is an illusion – salivation and arousal too. Our pupils still dilate though or appear to. This is what it is to be dead and still human.
***
***
I feel the cultural pressure against this, the culture I grew up with. Not guilt so much as ‘do not shame the family name’ that kind of thing. One would think I wouldn’t care because in some ways I don’t and never did. Yet, here I am feeling this sensation.
Not unlike the Dead in the book. This is a feeling the Dead might have upon gathering with another culture. – Amorella.
Interesting, I don’t know if I would have considered that. It seems to me the Dead have less to lose by mixing than the Living do.
How is that, old man?
The Dead don’t have much but themselves while the Living have stuff like wealth and land. Few would want to give away their stuff.
We can at least make it realistic in novel six.
That will never happen, even in a fiction, Amorella, at least not a realistic fiction.
Continuation of Preliminary Scene Three drafting
2. Mattress on the floor in the evening. Salamon is lying on the mattress with his back arched at thirty degrees leaning on his right elbow and forearm, his legs are stretched mostly together and flat out with his toes tensioned and slightly spread. He considers how to pleasure with hints of physical elements rushing through his self-generating thoughts of ‘if we were real’.
His left arm and hand are straightforward with his affectionate large-knuckled long fingers spread fan-like across the full of Sophia’s lower belly with the fantasy design of gently lifting her soul. Salamon’s thumb is calmly threaded teasingly between her semi-swollen outer lips onto the tip of Sophia’s cozy Gibraltar-shaped point of passion.
Pressure-parted, Sophia senses a memory of sexual energy wanting to disperse in gentle shivering shocks and quakes above Salamon’s slowly methodical push-and-pulling. To become whole and full bodied is her desire more than the sex itself. To feel auto-stimulated is to become shaman-like -- Sophia is sparked with an inner tingling of a wild-minded woman’s intensity of the here and now get-it-on.
Meanwhile her softly curved bottom rests on the top of his thighs so she might lightly brush the movement of his well placed cullions. Sophia anchored her raised back with her outstretched arms with palms mattress flat with legs spread, her left ankle touching the back of his partially raised right hand while her right foot with heel raised is well toed for support and pointed away from his narrowed waist. Sophia’s neck and head arch forward for a centered peek of male viewing further south between taut breasts swelled. I am up here, she thinks and down there too. Two places at once, such as it is making love and being Dead.
Post, already. – Amorella.
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