Feel the Burn

Oh yeah. I feel it. Loud and clear. Stinging, consuming, turning my muscles to jello.

Ah Gilad, how I've missed you so, Master of Firm Buttocks. Oh yeah. Hold that position. Can you feel the burn? How 'bout now? It's been a year since I last allowed you to whip me (into shape). A solid year since you asked me to lie on my back and contract my...

abdominals (egads, stay with me here)...

Yeah sure, we had a good thing for a while. Met up every weekday for an hour of intense physical activity, encouragement and laughs. But then, something happened. Your ego grew bigger and my pants size grew smaller. Lots smaller. I no longer needed you and your brutality in my life.

Or did I?

Oh how the tides turn. So damn quickly.

It seems it was my ego that was too big. And now my pants have grown a size to match it. Woe. Woe is me. I've come crawling back, on hands and knees, to grovel, longing for your sweet punishments. Hopeful you will increase my endorphins and make me beg for more. Harder, faster. Pain. Sweet glorious pain.

And smaller pants.

Not so Firm Buttocks


I will only be able to meet up for a half hour until I am up to your standards. Apparently I'd forgotten your abusive ways oh Duke of Squats, Lover of all things Painful. That or I'm a masochist.

Can you all tell this morning was my Jan 1st? I think I can...I think I can...

And since I must have been in a mood yesterday and my snip for the blogfest was not overly Valentine-ish--here's Jake and Kasia's actual kiss about a week after this failed attempt. Jake made her ask for it before this go round.

Enjoy. Kasia sure did.

He reeked of passion and man as his lips mashed against my own. Long fingers tangled through my hair, landed strong on the back of my head, pulling me close. So close to the heat generated by the fire in his eyes. Hurricane-worthy winds swirled in my brain, rendering it useless. Below waves crashed through my belly and every inch of my body fought to escape to my safe place deep inside, but I refused to let it happen.

It could have lasted forever, or mere seconds; I would never know. I didn't care. I only knew when he stopped my entire body ached for more of him. All of him. Both of him.

Jet: Vocalist, lyricist, poet. Stage prescence, hotness, ego. Groupies included.

Jake Taylor: Intelligent, down-to earth, deep. Beautiful, charming, honest. Insecurities included.


Nicole Ducleroir said...

Gilad is my hero!! I hit the gym this morning and have complaining muscles to prove it. Plus, a hard-core leg workout on Friday has my hams tight as piano strings, still. Three days later. Sheesh, I wish muscle toneness was in direct proportion with workout pain. But nooooo, Time has to be factored in there. Another reason to hate math.

Keep up the great work!!

Loved your kiss scene. Hot, hot, hot hot hot!

((hugs)) Nicole

Piedmont Writer said...

I agree with Nicole, hot hot hot hot.

Tara said...

Thanks ladies!

Nicole, I love working out to Gilad. He is so awesome! Had a bard time making it up the stairs to tuck the kids in. Ouch.

Kimberly Franklin said...

Thanks for stopping by my blog. It's nice to meet you! : D