Selective Amnesia

TOUCH

This is an interesting exercise I came across at Caferati on Ryze
So here goes, my attempt to tell a story in less than 600 words themed on TOUCH——-

That voice from the kitchen, a loud “Shyam” that leaves no doubt as to who calls me. And like interstellar radio waves, it only comes closer. I get up guiltily; try to beg her to hide. I didn’t want my parents to know about her just yet. But there she is, in all her full glory. Textures and surfaces and patterns and ridges and whorls and crests and depressions. Begging to be felt, begging for my touch. Her skin. Her little quivering lips, in anticipation of my fingers on them. I let her wait for it. I let her squirm in delicious pain, anticipating my exploring touches. We roll over, she gets on top and licks me. One wet sloppy I-know-you-love-this-and-can’t-have-enough-of lick on my face that has me all but giving in to her.
She wouldn’t let go of my fingers. She has it in her hands, dragging hers over mine, in a karmic handshake. The voice comes closer, upon us, discovery imminent. But I am far too gone to care now. I caress her arms, going closer to her little sweet spot. She jumps in joy. Her nails dig into my flesh. One more little crest in our graph of pleasure. Just when I start stroking her, those pink, soft

pointed ears, my mom sees me playing with my new dog.