The chair creaked when she rocked backwards. The floorboards had begun to dimple, a memoir of the time spent working through the night and into the morning light.
She took a seat and pulled herself to the place where she had left so much of herself. The quiet nights, teardrops kissing the red of the mahogany, wondering where the reprieve would come from. The moments where the world never found focus, thoughts like fireworks, blooming across the page for an audience that did not yet exist.
Her nipples grew hard from the midnight chill, a draft she always welcomed with open legs.
“Oh, what the hell. I’ve earned it.”
This is the place she found power. A note in hand to validate every moment spent in this room…she is now *the* boss.
It wasn’t like her to turn the lights down, but she was going to give in to the unrelenting pounding growing within her.
These walls could talk. Loudly. What once was mentorship has become companionship. This is where she learned herself. Discipline. Drive. Determination. Destruction. Desire. When the only movement left is the movement in your control, you become an extension of your surrounding, not just a moment.
She leaned back to hear the familiar groan again, and slipped her pants off her legs. This is the space she learned to never give up, and she was unwilling to concede now. Her journey had begun within these walls; she returned here as a champion of her headspace, a master of her destiny.
The desk would always remain occupied by her. The space meant for nobody but herself. She sits confidently, obediently, ready for the next project to master. The tools she needed have been with her all along…and she begins putting some of them to work, penetrating herself in the morning light.
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Hey, everyone. My first post here. This was an exercise in trying to capture the energy of a reader who might identify as an individual who tied her value to her success…a business woman, a caretaker, a mother…someone who works very hard to succeed externally, not remembering to nurture and exercise the self-worth she already knows for herself.
Criticism is welcome. Thank you!
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I’m a 33 year old male who would like to continue to explore creative writing as an outlet. I’ve dabbled in the past in a variety of mediums and intentions, including literotica, craigslist, tumblr and reddit. I’ve always found written word to be very powerful and am excited to resuscitate this element of myself!
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/o5s8d2/the_caretaker_f