Weakness

Word Count: 229

    I opened the door and there she was.  Sensual curves into hard angles, there was grace and beauty in her mixture of form.  She took my breath away, my pulse raced, I was light headed.  I wanted her, I wanted to reach out and touch her, stroke her long flanks, feel the smooth grace beneath my fingertips.  She beckoned, calling me to her.  Without a word she reached for me, innocent seduction.

    Emotionally I stumbled, knowing, knowing her, her type, promising fulfillment and satiation.  Ultimately false, a broken covenant from the beginning a sentiment that could not be kept, by either of us. There was power, power over me.  She controlled me without a thought about me.  I tried to flee but found myself rooted to the spot, unable to tear my gaze from her.

    It was just as I remembered it, my weakness, before I was aware of my actions, my thoughts, I was touching her.  Running my hand over the silky bright-varnished rail, absorbing the texture of her sand painted canvas deck.  She owned me, owned my heart.  Without an effort she had stolen me from my wife, my children.

    I couldn’t succumb, not again, not again, I turned from her, unshed tears welling in me.  I turned, into the warm arms of my woman, my head resting on her breast.  She softly stroked me, whispering truths.

Word Count: 229