Vignettes of a Master

By: Jason Luke

I shook my head, my eyes hard, like little shards of coal. “You’re my doctor, Trigg,” I said. “And that’s all you ever could be.”

Blushing Book Blog

March, 17th.

Jonah and Leticia in a lingerie store.

“No,” I said simply. “That’s not right for you.”

Leticia stood before me in the secluded alcove of the lingerie store, wearing a flimsy red bra, and matching panties. The fabric clung tight against the honey brown of her skin, hugging and accentuating the curves of her body so that she stood, like a goddess. She shook her head in confusion, and the tendrils of her hair caught and glowed golden in the overhead lights.

“Lingerie is a visual stimulation for the man who is your lover, but it is also an important expression of yourself,” I said to Leticia as I stepped closer to her. I reached out and ran the tip of my finger across the swelling flesh that rose above the cup of her bra. “This looks sexual, and any man would be delighted to see you standing before him in such attire… but is it really you, Leticia?” I shook my head slowly. “I think not. You need to wear something that is softer, less bright. You need to wear lingerie that reflects your own sensuality. Maybe soft blue, or pale grey would be better – it’s more subtle.”

I stood back and ran my eyes over her again. She seemed to shrink under the cold calculation of my gaze. “And the panties are all wrong,” I said. “Remember that a lover’s first kiss between your parted, open thighs should be through the fabric of your lingerie. You need fabric that is softer, less covered in lace. You want his mouth to linger there… linger so that you can feel the warm heat of his breath through the silk and the soft tingle of it as his mouth covers your sex.”

Blushing Book Blog

March, 17th.

Jonah and Leticia after the article is finished and both have read it. They are in the living room.

I folded the newspaper carefully and set it down on the coffee table. I looked up at Leticia. She was sitting across from me, perched on the edge of her chair. Her eyes were alight and bright with eager excitement. She saw my face, saw the cold look in my eyes, and she blinked, then frowned.

“You didn’t like it?” she asked softly, and her tone was desolate, her voice hollow.

I shook my head. “I liked your writing,” I said. “I think you told my story well. What I read was an honest recording of everything I said and believe. Thank you for that.” The words were stiff and forced, my voice brittle.

“But you didn’t like it…?”

“I don’t like me,” I said. I stood up and stuffed my hands deep within the pockets of my pants. I began to pace the floor, staring off into the distance, my mind playing back over excerpts. “What you wrote was an honest reflection,” I began again carefully, “but the fact is that after reading your article, I have come to the conclusion that Jonah Noble is an asshole!”

Leticia almost laughed. I saw the flash of surprise, the sudden relief, and the start of a smile. She sat back, and the glow of happiness and pride returned to her expression.

Blushing Book Blog

March, 17th.

Leticia and Jonah on a balcony, as she recalls his previous story about being on a balcony.

The view was breath taking. I stood in the darkened hotel room and looked out through the open glass doors. I had never seen a sight so lovely.

Out on the balcony, Leticia was standing, with her legs apart, her hands braced on the steel railing, her back arched so that I could see the soft line of her spine like a row of little pearls just below the honey brown of her skin. She was completely naked, standing in the darkness, staring out at the city lights. There was a soft summer breeze in the night, caressing the skin of her shoulders and tugging at tresses of her hair.

I stepped out onto the balcony, walked silently until I was standing close behind her and could smell the scent of her perfume and the softer, subtle aroma of her arousal. She sensed me behind her: I felt her straighten her body and shift her weight onto one leg so that one hip thrust forward and the firm rounded flesh of her bottom changed shape, like in invitation.

I heard Leticia take a sharp, nervous breath and hold it.

“You’re stunning,” I said softly. “You are truly, totally beautiful.”

I sensed her smile, and then heard it in her words. It was a wistful, dreamlike sound. “I was just remembering what you did with Caroline on a balcony,” she said softly, perhaps not daring to turn to face me – perhaps still too shy to be so forward with her thoughts, her needs. “I was just wondering how she might have felt.”

Blushing Book Blog

March, 17th.

Jonah watching Leticia sleep.

In a world gone mad, there was this.

Simple, pure, innocent beauty.

I stood in the doorway and watched Leticia sleep. She was laying on her back, her lips slightly parted, her hair awry and her body outlined beneath the single cotton sheet so that I could see the darkened shadow of her nipples, and the defined shape of her long legs. She looked so peaceful – so serene, and I wondered then at how man measures beauty, and how abused the word is. Beauty was everywhere – it was in nature and in giant structures. It was in magnificent buildings and in classical music.