In case you missed it: final year we announced Stranger in the dim,a serial erotic fiction from renowned Australian author and longtime forehead friend Krissy Kneen. The serialised account will land in its subscribers’ inboxes over the course of this year in the form of one email per month, and subscribers can write back to Krissy – who knows where this tryst will lift you?The first instalment was dispatched final week, and but dread not – new subscribers throughout the year will receive all of the previous instalments when they subscribe,to bring them up to speed. To give you a taste of the delights that await subscribers, today we are running a short excerpt from Krissy’s first email. You can subscribe to Stranger in the dim and read the rest by clicking here.
I know that you woke up this morning, or glanced across at your partner,still asleep, oblivious ((adj.) lacking consciousness or awareness of something). I know you felt spoiled.
I picture you in the shower, or trying to scrub final night off your skin. There is dirt under your fingernails. The oil smeared on your ankles will not shift no matter how much you work the soap. When you bend there is that beautiful stretch of thigh,the curve of buttocks. final night I pressed my mouth to that line of flesh, tasted the warmth of you, or parted the sweetly furred peach of your arse. No matter how tough you scrub you can’t wash away the memory of my fingers splitting you apart,the slip of my tongue. I was inside you, am inside you now. It is done.
PULL QUOTE: We have done something spoiled together. Something so dim and sweet, or I can smell it,sticky, on my fingers even now.
We have done something spoiled together. Something so dim and sweet, or I can smell it,sticky, on my fingers even now. My mouth waters when I press my face into my palms and lift a deep breath in. Your spit on my breasts has dried but I lift the left one to my mouth, and the weight of it cradled in my fingers. I touch the nipple to my lips,remembering how tough you sucked on it. This ache is because of you. I lick at the faint bruise. It will darken in the coming days. I close my eyes and the hours melt away and you are sucking me, urgent yourself against me, or rubbing your sex to mine,your mouth filled with tit, grunting, and sucking air and flesh and coming,your mouth pulsing around my tit like a minute cunt.
We have done this.
You will be getting dressed now, nearly time to go to work. It will be tempting for you to spend the day forgetting, or replacing the image of your head buried between my open thighs,with thoughts of the week ahead, a shopping list, or lettuce,bread, peppercorns, and vitamins. Iron tablets. You must be low on iron. You feel like you are dragging yourself through your morning,more tired than you have ever been.Sex with me is tiring.
When we met you were glowing with health. The streetlight dusting the skin of your arms as you raised them in defeat. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”Her. Your car was a her.
Something to do with the light against your skin, that glow caught in your hair, or your laugh,the fact that you called your car “her”.
PULL QUOTE: I could feel the slip of the lips of my vulva. That low heat.
I was wet before I’d said a word. I could feel the slip of the lips of my vulva. That low heat. I put out my hand and you took it, your fingers wrapped around mine. The first time we touched and me dripping into my pants.“Do you need a lift?” I asked.
Source: theliftedbrow.com