The PKSP Archive - Unforgiven
by envoy

---

Disclaimer: 'They' are not mine.

---

her pale naked flesh before me
          her hands reaching out for me
                                   to me
                                   to touch me
          her face smiling for me.
breathe.

                    her hands flowing over the curve&tilt
                    of her; delicate fingers pulling through
                    free falling hair and sliding
                    down to linger over her breasts,
                    to caress and to touch and to excite.

                              breathe.
     eyes close and glistening lips part
     chest falls and rises
     with the insistent down creep of hands
              insistent pressure
     squeezing at my throat as
breathe.
                              she touches
     herself; fingers pushing back&forth
                              in&out.
                              &again

     calling.
return to the beginning

     pastel pale heat kneeling before me;
     cobalt clear eyes moving over me;
     rouge stained lips teasing my ****
     hidden tongues twisting and twirling and still
     playing with steady pressure, lazy motion.

I lay her down
lay a kiss against her lips,
               against her neck
                    against her heart
breathe.
                      entice her nipple with my tongue.
                    breathe.

lay my lips across her abdomen
trail my tongue across her skin
and part her legs to kiss her there,
slipping my tongue against&over the sheeny flesh.
& again & again.
     again.

     she pulls me toward her
     kisses me with telling lips
breathe                  breathe                  breathe

               calling my name
               as quivering muscles suck
               me in deeper
               as i come.

     I clean //away the mess\\ and look in the mirror; face
myself, my lank hair, my puffy face, my flabby body. Face
the reality that she would not want me; that she wants
someone else.
     It is not me she wants to touch,
           not I she smiles to see,
           not this.
     Her hands fall over herself and touch herself, but it
is not me she does it for.
     It is not me she begs to touch and caress.
     It is not me she calls for, that she goes down on.
     Not I.
     It is not me she makes love to and it is not my name
she calls; not my name she utters in a breathless
exhalation.
     Chakotay.
     That is the name she calls, the skin she touches, the
man she kisses. He is the one who gets to know every tiny
flutter of excitement, every lick, every groan.
     Him.
     Bastard.
     I try to block the images which steal unwanted into my
mind; flowing, shuffling images of vivid reality; of those
two together; of pale flesh over and in dark.

               Her face in close up
               as her body moves slowly,
               and her eyes closed in a bliss mask,
               and her teeth gnawing at the sides
               of her twitching mouth which opens
               as his hands tingle at her waist.

His face with open gloating
eyes to watch her.

Her face.
     His face.
Her face.
     His face.
Her face.      Her face.      Her face
tensing to emit a silent sigh.

---

The End