I wrote this as a stress reliever from tests, paper, and school in general. I’m an English Major so this is basically poking fun at myself and fellow English Majors. Also, I recently watched Bright Star.
And credit goes to my inspiration and my favorite poet the actual John Keats:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
It’s 9:17 pm and I’m stressed out. I have way too much stuff on my plate. I have an exam and a paper that is due in the next two weeks and to top it off I have to catch up on all the assignments I slacked off on in my Major British Writers class. The pains of the English Major. I was trapped in the library all day which closed about thirty minutes ago…stupid library. I refuse to drink any coffee tonight. Not that it would help anyway; I drank so much coffee that it takes two gallons to even keep me lucid. Ugh, I try to listen to the radio but Lady Gaga is not studying music. I change the channel to classical…something to get me in the mood.
What do I have to get in the mood for? Reading John Keats. Yay for me…not. One of my assignments is I have to read a work of literary criticism and discuss if whether it is an accurate or misrepresentation of Keats’ life. I’m gonna need three tequila shots after this assignment. Of course that would have to wait until tomorrow night which will be Saturday…yes, I am that pathetic to study on a Friday night. I’m reading Keats’ anthology of letters when I hear one of my roommates knock.
“Teresa, it’s Anna.”
“Hey…oh, you’re doing homework. I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out but I see that you’re busy.”
“As much as I want to get sloshed, unfortunately I have to catch up on all my assignments.”
“That sucks. What are you doing?”
“Reading John Keats and doing an outline. The paper is basically an argument whether scholars are always right about his life.”
“Man, I bet the guy was like Orlando Bloom or someone like that. He’s hot.”
“Hell, I wish it was him. Get me more motivated to read this, but why should I lament on one of the most romantic writers of all time.”
“Ooh, did he write like romance novel stuff?” I love Anna, but sometimes she was a bit of an airhead. That poet guy, as she calls him, is so profound and so moving yet tonight his words are the cause of an on-coming migraine. I hear Anna’s chirpy little voice in my head. “Well, I’ll leave you to your poet dude and the boring classical music. Jesus, how do you even study with this…I would be knocked out by now.”
“It’s the only way I can study.”
“Good luck on that. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. Night.”
A sigh of relief escapes me as Anna closes my door. I love her to death but she will never understand. Her major is Engineering and she is guaranteed a job. With my field I will be homeless and live in a box. There is such a lack for people who are English lit Majors. I resume my studying and trying to not get distracted.
I feel myself drifting off and I stand up. I have to find a way to wake up. I could check my emails but that will only end up with me deciding to continue my homework three hours after the fact I was only just checking my emails. I decided to go downstairs to the vending machine and get some soda…preferably one with loads of caffeine. I can’t drink coffee but for some weird reason soda perks me up. I grab some change and make my way down to the first floor. I hear loud music from the opposite end where I live.
“Glad I don’t live above that.” sometimes living in a dorm sucks.
I get my beverage and return to my room. I stare at the book and curse it for making my weekend a crappy one. I must continue. Two hours later and my brain is damn near fried. I can’t take it anymore. I have to stop…or a least take a fifteen minute break. I pad to the kitchen area and see my bottle of wine sitting on the counter. I know I shouldn’t drink while studying but I really need something to calm my nerves. I don’t smoke and I don’t want to turn my laptop on…I will be on it procrastinating like I always do. God, why does that lovely bottle of merlot seem to be calling my name?
“Screw it.” I give in. All of my wine glasses are dirty so I opt for the next thing…a coffee mug. I pour the contents into my mug and smile happily as it slides down my throat. “Ah, just what I needed. Though I wouldn’t mind taking shots and grinding on some dude right about now. Great, you’re talking to yourself.”
I roll my eyes and sit in the common room of the dorm. There is a window and I see the lights of the city sky looking like nymphs in a forest. God, I’ve been an English Major way too long. I’m starting to freak out. Tomorrow just think that this will be finished and I can enjoy the rest of my weekend.
After I finish my wine, I trudge back to my room and climb into bed. I sit upright to commence reading once again. The night is passing and Anna still hasn’t returned. I feel my head dipping lower. Damn, shouldn’t have had that wine. I always forget that if I don’t drink enough wine to be tipsy that it puts me to sleep. Trying to stay awake…can’t hold on…much longer.
My eyes snap open and I realize I had fallen asleep halfway through a paragraph. Damn it, I just hope I didn’t sleep too long. I notice something is wrong. I can’t quite place it but something is definitely not right. I was way too sleepy, but something freaked me out. Someone was in the room with me. I turned my head and saw that in fact there was a person in the room.
“Gah!” my eyes shoot open. John Keats is sitting in my dormroom.
He is in my chair! I’m dreaming I’m sure. This can’t be real. The man has been dead for more than two-hundred years and he’s sitting in my room. He’s holding something in his hand…it looks like a glass that holds a dark wine.
“Why does your heart ache?”
“I’m spacing out. You can’t be here. You’re dead…never drinking again.”
“Thou shall embrace what is thought. You talk of Nature and see the beauty of her.”
“I do…wait, why am I talking to a dead guy?”
“You are the most exotic woman I’ve ever encountered.” I see Keats scanning my body. Is it wrong to be turned on by a dead guy…did not come out right. He’s swirling the wine in his glass and takes a deep whiff.
“Okay, I’m going insane.” I notice he’s staring at me. “Why are you looking at me that way?!”
“You look like a Goddess with your exposed skin for which I want to plant a chaste kiss upon.”
“Huh?” I glance down at my tank-top and shorts. I guess I would be considered naked in his day.
“Forgive me. I have offended you, but my need and desire to touch your skin is overwhelming me.”
“Oh….” I can’t breathe. If he lived in my time I would fuck him right about now. He is the perfect man for me. He loves the wonders of Nature and his words alone has me shaking.
“You seem to be troubled.”
“I can’t get through my homework...your work. I love your poetry but sometimes I have trouble understanding it. I want to know what inspired you to write these words.”
“I find my muse is Nature. I want you to come closer.”
John Keats wants me to come closer…I think not. The look he’s giving me is so primal it’s scary. His eyes boring into me as if they could penetrate me. Wait…why am I wanting him to? Get a grip Teresa. He’s just a poet…what the hell am I saying?! He’s the embodiment of the British Romantic era. Why does he have to sit that way?! His legs…open so I clearly notice his manhood. This is very uncomfortable because he’s fully clothed and yet here I am staring at him like he’s a piece of meat. His voice ring into my ears which causes me to jump.
“What is it that you need to understand about my work?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to know how nature can affects someone’s life.”
“Nature doesn’t necessarily mean writing about flowers or trees. It can also be the raw emotions that one feels. For instance, what do you feel right now?”
“Uh…like I’m going crazy.”
“Think about what you desire.”
“I want you. Seeing you in that chair is giving me so many thoughts.”
“Show me. Show me what is your instinct.”
Is this man serious? Why does he have that wicked grin on his face? My breathing becomes heavy as my eyes lay upon his lips. I can imagine those lips latching unto my neck, moving down to my collarbone, moving further down my body. I had forgotten the only reason I can see him is the lamp that is at my bedside table. The intense lamplight makes my already burning flesh even more hot. The man before me is watching me like some sort of an experiment. He’s studying me and I feel throb between my legs. Without thought, my hand moves down my neck and in the valley of my breasts. I look over and John Keats is patiently staring at me…wondering what his presence is doing to me. I don’t dare close my eyes and they lock with his. I envision my hand as his as it snakes its way down my belly and over my hip. I feel that hand caress my thigh nearing between my legs. I shudder as I see him licking his moist lips. He’s sipping on the wine and I wish I was that glass.
I reach inside my shorts feeling as if his hand was there. I moan stroking my clit imagining his tongue lapping at me. God, I don’t even know if they did that thing back then but now I can’t get the thought of his tongue teasing me as his hands has a hold of my hips. I want to get up and straddle him, but something about this moment is very…sensual. He’s watching me touch myself and I like it. I never had anyone watch…ever and the man who wrote the wonderful words to Ode to a Nightingale is getting turned on by my moans. I see the bulge in his pants and his hand instinctively rubs his erection. I could almost feel his tongue flicking at my sensitive bud. Damn it I’m close and he bites his lower lip. I scream as I cum my legs trembling as my body convulses. With heavy-lidded eyes I see John Keats giving me a grin of delight.
“That was very moving. Do you understand what just happened?”
“You watching me masturbate while I thought of you?” I know I shouldn’t state the obvious but that’s exactly what happened.
“You let your emotions take over. Your natural state was your carnal desire.”
“I acted on what was natural. I felt free by not hiding my feelings.”
“Though you weren’t coy…you held back.” he gets up from the chair and walks toward me.
“How am I restraining myself? I just did…that…in front of you. That was not restraint.”
“Yes…but I think you can be more free.”
“You think you can even handle it?”
“What does this say?”
He pulls on my ponytail titling my head back only to lick a trail up my neck to my ear. His wet, slick tongue plunges into my ear. Damn, I moan feeling my throbbing core pulse again. His other hand is snaking its way down my body reaching my inner thigh. My limbs reach for that damn scarf around his neck and work it loose. If its free he wants then free he will get. With all my willpower I slightly push him away and he looks up at me with puzzled eyes. I stand up and stare into his hazel eyes. They held a wicked anticipation within them. I walk around him turning his body toward the bed and forcefully push him onto it.
With the scarf that previously hung around his neck, I blindfolded him hearing a primal growl break from his throat. I remove his jacket tossing in a corner of my room. The classical music fills my room. I never thought this music would make me so…horny. I start to unbutton his shirt revealing his lean chest. My fingers glide down his chest to his trousers. I can see him hard through them. His breathing hastens as I lick his nipple flicking at the hard bud. My tongue trails down his torso. His moans begging me to undo his trousers and I give him the satisfaction of freeing him from the confines of his pants.
Looking at his hardness makes me wet all over again. I remove my shorts and tank-top and saunter my way onto the bed. He moans as I straddle him gripping the mass of auburn hair on his head. His mouth opens and I take the opportunity to plunge one finger in his mouth. He sucks on my digit moaning at the sweet taste of my juices still on my fingers. Once I knew he licked it clean, I withdrew my finger.
“So, is that free enough for you?”
“You want more?”
“I thirst for it….” I feel his length teasing my clit as I slide down burying his member inside me. His voice rips through my bedroom as he thrusts into me. He’s still blindfolded, but he’s touching me…not sure where his hands are on my body. “Your body is as soft as a petal from a spring flower.”
“Wow….” I match his thrusts feeling him hit a sensitive spot within me. My hands fists his shirt pulling him closer to me. Our lips connect and I love his warm tongue in my mouth. I feel myself nearing my orgasm so I ride him faster. “Oh shit….” I find my release as my walls clench around him sending him into orgasm. His shaky hand reaches up and touches my neck, then my face. I take off the scarf revealing his spent hazel eyes.
“See what happens when you let natural instincts take over.”
Before I could answer I woke up cursing my roommate Anna for stumbling drunk bumping into walls as she’s singing Katy Perry out of tune.