Well here I leave the blog written http://papelerade-reciclaje.blogspot.com/ Light and yeah ... is the same deign to kill viciously (as she herself said) to edward in challenging the destination jajajaj =) thanks for the contest light.
MI MUSA
As I was the last drag on his cigarette, and sat in my room, in front of the keyboard and the document is still immaculate trying to concoct the narrative of history. The main character had it, she was my muse. She always came to my mind as I wanted to write something. And it was always her, put it in the time to put it in the circumstances to put it, and the name that was. No matter, was she ever. The other male character varying in every story, though I imagine it in my head with my face, always losing your ass for it. And now that
my editor had given me a new commission set in the Second World War, a romance between a soldier wounded in the Normandy landings, and the nurse who cared for him, a typical romance novel and film. But Joan he wanted to see it from my perspective, for my romantic, deep, with a touch sensual than housewives love, all spiced with my touch Andalusian was not ideal to get ahead of the holiday season a new play of Rimaldo Germain, a passionate writer able to capture that passion in each letter. A master of uniting passion and written in a few typewritten pages. The specialty of the great Rimaldo Germain, a server.
By crushing the butt in the ashtray that was on my coffee table, I got the desired inspiration, always hand in my particular muse.
The soldier, ... David Sunfish, a handsome young man of some hidden state of America, had been injured in various parts of the body and face with shrapnel from a hand grenade, and had temporarily lost his vision, ... yeah! I liked the plot. And then she would appear in a voice rather than sensual, tinged with lust, depending on the words he was saying, and above all would emphasize a strong bond with the soldier she created to remind someone of their past. I was enjoying history. He would go crazy that voice, we first perceive it until they regain their sight. Because they nurse the bond would go closer by leaps and bounds, bluntly. E would create the romance from those ties, qualifying in all situations this growing relationship.
As the story progressed was me imagining it, this time they call ... Agnes ... no, it sounded a prude, too chaste, and I was looking for a woman who through her voice woke the soldier fire. Ingrid. Looking for my characters easy to remember names, preferably two or three syllables, and striking personality. Always I liked that name, and had not ever used. Yes, Ingrid Lash, Lash nurse, a name more suggestive, especially for a frightened boy who had never gone beyond his hometown, wounded, without the sense of vision, and a heart in the chest available for the first lady to make merit to earn it. She would be a mysterious girl from the outskirts of Dublin, daring, always ready to lend a hand, all seasoned with the philosophy of life of the Irish that I like.
Now he could close your eyes and imagine in a hospital bed, blindfolded, deprived of sight, and with it, with my hand giving me Ingrid all appropriate care for my speedy recovery. I do not know how he did it, but in each story that I plunged with it, the feelings were so vivid to close your eyes and imagine, that many times I think he could reach out and touch it.
And this was no exception. When you close your eyes in front of the screen where was tacking letter at their history, I was lying in bed with his face bandaged, my whole body was bruised, and her by my side watching me. Perceived the smell of disinfectant stirred in a suggestive scent of roses and jasmine, and a tiny touch of vanilla, my favorite, she always wore. I felt her hands, smooth, hot, travel urgent and delicate as I would wash my body, taking care not to hurt me in the wounds that covered my body. And his voice, confident, authoritative, sensual, provocative, and especially maternal, telling me everything that I was doing to not catch me off guard and do not scare me or hurt me. So I too had wanted to go to war and being wounded.
quickly opened his eyes and began to pound the keys urgently my pc, following the dictates of my heart to feel in her hands, my muse, this time with a sexy nurse uniform of the British Army in the Second World War and taking the name of Ingrid.
As the hours passed and the sun was going inevitably sunset scene that I noticed from my position to see the shadows move, and gradually lengthen the story between David and Ingrid was taking shape, growing strongly, brewing among the agonies of a bloody war and the promise of a future together as my readers liked a happy ending, eating partridges.
History had penetrated deeply into me. It was one of those that were written alone, as if my hands were held by an invisible force that did not stop writing left key to key. While they were discovering their love and passion that seized every chance encounter they had, first in the hospital, and later outside. With my office and in darkness, lit only by the pc screen, fatigue and sleep were taking over my body. I started to nod, the story is not flowing at the speed before, and my hands were being quiet over the keys. My eyes closed, but always with a clear picture this: it. Ingrid Lash, with its pristine white uniform, lips, sexy, tight, frowning, and barely restrained joy in his eyes, looking at David. I do not know how I got the couch in my office, and when I fell asleep. What I do know is that some soft hands long nails I awoke from my slumber. With surprise I found with something strapped to my head that I could see, and when I went to take that from me that I covered my eyes, a sultry woman's voice stopped me.
-Germain, does not take off the blindfolds. Although you are not cured. - Those soft hands prevented me open my eyes, leaving me somewhat confused-But why ...? Who are you? ... What? - Tried to get up, and the same hands gently pushed me to stop me. Then I realized that was not on the couch in my office, but in a bed, very uncomfortable indeed. "Nothing
sky, do not worry, you're in good hands.
- In good hands? What ...?
- Shhhhh! Calla awaken love or others wounded. - A silky finger wrapped in the fragrance of roses and jasmine, with a touch of vanilla, landed softly on my lips, silencing, reviewing with the pad outline. - We have a while before they awaken from a nap, do not you like to use it? - That voice, so sexy, it was exactly like that in my imagination had my muse. Is it ... would she?
- Ingrid? Is that you?
"Of course silly, who else? - After admit it, his merry laugh, carefree, rattled around me, feeling how I rose up, starting deals from myriad kisses my neck, short, urgent. His hands had been cast under my clothes, stroking one of them my abdomen, and one dangerously close to my crotch. I got nervous, and while attempting to remove it, my body reacted joyously on their own at such a wager.
"But ... but ... ... this can not be happening ... you're not real! - I said almost stammering, trying to rid of her.
- Does it matter now? You have created me. Tell me, what man despises a real encounter with the girl of his dreams? - I whispered in his ear while slyly unfastened the buttons of my pants ready to release in all its glory all my masculinity. - Germain has a long history together. For many lives I invent, many men who stand in my way, I always turn to you because you belong. I want to be yours in every way. Let love, let go. - With these words I felt his hands directly on my part, despite experiencing the most pleasurable sensations he had never lived, I could not help giving a start in bed, and let go of it with a cry.
- NO!
suddenly I opened my eyes, startled. I was in the twilight of my office, sitting in my chair with his head hanging forward. Outside was dark, and the screen was pc obscured by the screen saver. I had no idea what time it was, or how long there had been asleep, but he did have was a painful torticollis to fall asleep there. I also noticed something unusual in my crotch. That erection that seconds before had in my dream was real. Uncomfortable, I groped for the PC mouse to move and that will illuminate the screen to see anything. To move the screen lit up, and several lines further down where I had left my story, I found a phrase
"You you missed it, stupid"
LIGHT
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