No Holds Barred

A predetermined event over which the two have no control


No Holds Barred
by Flying Solo

It was decided. She felt no need to consult or ask permission from any other but her own conscience.  Come to think of it she was not even nervous about making such a bold gesture to someone she barely knew yet felt she’d known all her life. What could be kinder than to invite him over to her home?  Totally oblivious at the time to the connotations of that offer, she set out to make a romantic meal.  She laid the table with great care, the first for two she had set in a decade.  She concocted some sumptuous recipe from her old files; cooking lovingly and with abandon.   In true obsessive fashion she went through the preparation and the menu in minute detail.  Everything had to be just so.

The door bell rings. He is early.  A moment of panic while she puts everything on low – the stove, the lights, the music.  She peels off her apron, smoothes down her dress and her hair, takes one last look in the mirror, bites her lips and winks at herself.  She opens the door to greet him.  The familiarity of the encounter bathes her upon the first glance.  He veils her with those eyes, taking in all of her in one sweep, top to bottom in a millisecond, momentarily starting a tornado.

Once inside, she busies herself with offering him a drink and setting him up to help her with the food preparation.  As she chops up the vegetables she senses his eyes feasting on her. She feels a slight tremble build inside of her. She dare not turn around, lest she be struck by lightning.  He is talking to her, something about work or is it the kids, she has trouble concentrating.  She is overcome with the strongest urge to cover his face with hers and to take him into her world.  She does not want words.

She nods absentmindedly to what he is saying. In the process of throwing him a glance as she turns her head, her long mane sways away revealing the urge in her eyes. That act alone shuts him up instantly – stunned, he is frozen on the spot.  She hears herself say to him – “You are too adorable”.  She registers as her body covers the space between them across the galley kitchen in two long strides.  With no introduction her lips lock on his – deeply and passionately.  In complete control and yet with total surrender, she offers herself and demands him at the same time.  She gives it her all, imploring him to melt into the moment and join her on this journey to nowhere. Everything else must wait.  He breaks off for air. She seeks him again, pleadingly, holding on to him as if the world would stop if he were to move an inch.  He has to breathe for both of them for she has given up the will.  He holds her now against the counter as her knees are starting to give. There is a gentle quake starting a devastation at the pit of her stomach, sending mad shivers along her spine, into the already quivering limbs, rippling across her torso as the tremors rise up to her neck and explode in her head.  Blood gushes out of her fierce heart and spreads to her face; setting her cheeks on fire.  The eyelids close to a slit, the ears start ringing, sweat glosses her skin and all this time his lips and hers continue their torrid tango. His heart is pounding - madly against a rib cage which wants nothing more than to break open.  Desire, like a poisoned spear, pierces each, over and over again, and then sews them together with the sweet thread of passion, every cell screaming - take me – destroy me – remold me.  They part for a moment staring at each other in utter astonishment of what is about to happen.  Drunken with yearning, there is an instant buzz they share.  He reaches for her hand, pulls her towards him. They are intertwined, first by the window, then by the dining table, against a chair, back to the stove. His hands are everywhere, caressing lovingly, fingers running through her hair, along her arms, gently rolling over each vertebra until they reach the small of her back - she purrs.

They lock eyes in the semi-darkness; close enough now to feel each other’s heartbeat, the warmth of each breath and the heat of the embrace. She takes in his smell -sour, sharp, potent. At that very moment, and only then, they are in each other’s heads completely.  Nothing else matters – the most pleasant shock – delicious in its premature birth.  They are both sure that they imagined a much longer courtship.  Here they are though making a pact without uttering a single word.  Like other things that have gone on between them, this too is a predetermined event over which the two have no control.  They have both surrendered wholly, whole-heartedly, willingly and willfully. There is no second guessing, no shame and no regret. It is pure self-abandon – utterly urgent.

The phone rings – it’s hers. She ignores and blots out the noise.  The ring stops and she breathes a sigh of relief while he devours her smell – sweet, pungent, soothing.  The phone rings again – it’s his. The ring stops but then starts again – summoning an emergency.  He breaks away from the kiss to take the call.

The thrill evaporates – ecstasy is arrested.  They both land back on earth and sit down to their meal.


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more from Flying Solo
Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez

Very steamy.......

by Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez on

I can't believe the guy answered the phone. Aye! Men

Loved the story



I sometimes think our lives

by mrudzio on

I sometimes think our lives are composed of a number of deep, all-encompassing experiences to which we return over and over again in memory. Each one is a little moment of perfection, enclosed in a bubble, complete in itself, like the moment at the breast or the very first kiss. Each one constitutes a kind of little eternity. And your story seems to be an account of one of these morsels of infinity.

Multiple Personality Disorder

It's hard to believe,

by Multiple Personality Disorder on

...but I refuse to get a cell phone.

Ari Siletz

Flying Solo, drop the other shoe

by Ari Siletz on

Do they turn their cell phones off?

Great writing!

Azadeh Azad

This is perfect

by Azadeh Azad on

Dear Solo,

This is what I call love-making: "In complete control and yet with total surrender, she offers herself and demands him at the same time."

Thank you for writing a beautiful scene of encounter between a man and a woman where there is absolutely no relation of force!




It was great

by Feshangi on

while it lasted! those darn mobile phones should be banned!




Oh my...

by Princess on

I am touched by your generosity, dear friend. Thanks for humoring me. This one's going in a frame! :)

... I have a feeling JJ's comment is a plea for a sequel? 

And, yes, please do get in touch. I look forward to more stimulating conversation. 

See you soon then. 

Flying Solo


by Flying Solo on


Jahanshah Javid

Hard landing

by Jahanshah Javid on

One of the saddest endings ever :o) From heaven to hard earth in a split second! Someone should investigate where does all that powerful passion disappear to?

It was still very much worth the ride. Thank you.