I thought I did and it was a shoe.

I got a rock.

"I went to Reno and all I got was this cool bass player..."

Catch and release.

I just end up admiring other women's, mostly.

Drabble, playing with that part of the wip that's giving me fits:

Jack admires his handiwork as he ties the final knot. Bound so thoroughly and gagged so securely, Colonel Robuchon couldn’t summon help even if he awakened. With luck, nobody would miss him until breakfast.

Mrs. Arrington has exchanged her torn dress for a whole one, and now she turns her back to him. “I’m sorry. I can’t reach all the buttons.”

With steady hands Jack dresses the woman he’s dreamed of undressing. What will they be to each other if they survive this escape? Their intimacy now is that of comrades in mortal peril, but if the plan works they’ll be alone together for as much as a week.

Some bonds are harder to sever than others.

Clichés, get your clichés here….

Black t-shirt stretched across broad shoulders. Tight jeans and tighter underneath. Music thumping, and she parts the seas with swaying hips, grinding against him as an introduction. The beat pounds them, touches and caresses anchoring them together. Offer, then agreement, both silent in the roar of music and lust.

They ride waves of passion in her cold bed. No words, because speaking breaks the spell still pounding in their ears. Her heart is gone, lost to a man that can never be hers. There is now only the storm, and nameless ports are better than being washed into the sea.

She puffed heavily with every step up to another branch. She moved slowly, determined to reach the top. Sweat chafed between her chubby thighs. Maybe, if she actually got to the top of the tree, they'd let her play with them instead of just tag along.

As she reached for the next branch, she heard Bud and Jasper talking.

"You going to let her play Statues with us if she makes it up?"

Concentrating on her next step, she felt the hard shock of a shoe against her shoulder. She started falling as Jasper's laughter rang out.

"When pigs fly!"

Still waters run deep

Sardonic, capable Joe was a good boyfriend for a girl just figuring out the whole male-female thing. No expectations, simple pleasure in exploring the basic variants, no significant emotional engagement.

A late night TV movie with a father raging against his son's death in Vietnam. Suddenly Joe is crying in my arms, talking about helping to tip choppers off carrier decks, about friends who came back in pieces or not at all.

Suddenly I understand how a woman brings comfort to a man.

Ailleann, Sail, and connie, you all sent me reeling in different directions, first thing in the morning.