(with thanks to JB and MR)
The bench was hard and coolly metallic, but the beauty in the sunset took away that material discomfort. The sea was hardly moving as it slowly massaged the sky. There was an amazing fresh smell in the air, a freshness born not of air, but of memories. A warm breeze from the sea lifted the flags, furled against their poles, causing their fastenings to clink metallically. The moon was full and reflected the orange glow of the sun, its own pale light being eclipsed by its more powerful sister.
He inhaled deeply and felt comforted, knowing that she would be looking up and seeing their moon herself. The years hadn't changed the place at all. The large, sweeping bay was still heartwarmingly beautiful and yet heartrendingly desolate. A few tears glistened on his lower lashes before slowly tracing their trickly path down his cheeks. It felt such a relief to let them go. He rested forward on his knees and hung his head, dreaming of long ago, when she had come to him and, for a short time, was his and his only.
He had been unnervingly happy then, finding it frightening to let himself be so elated, unconsciously aware of his vulnerability. Had he been too constrained by the anxiety that she would be taken from him, he wondered now? He remembered the crushing emptiness he had felt when she went and felt again the hollow that she had left behind. She had loved him deeply and he knew it, but this very love had prevented a full recovery for him.
He had wanted so much to have been able to share with her his dreams and songs and smiles and oh so much more. To love someone this much, knowing she felt the same, and then have her just taken from him was devastating. He had tried hard not to miss her, desperately throwing himself into his work and rarely allowing himself time for those beautiful yet painful memories. Yet, here he was, brought back to that same beach by a sudden yearning, something familiar in the season.
Familiarity, like the perfume his mother had worn when he had been a baby, permeated his subconscious. It making him ache. This same aching desire for his erstwhile security pulled him back to this same bench, where they had courted. Time had once felt curiously suspended there - a nonexistent element in a motionless world.
The night drew in with the tide. He stayed for some intangible feeling was holding him there. The sea stirred mysteriously under the largest flaxen moon he had ever observed. As the gentle breeze whispered some ancient magic, he heard a sudden murmuring, an echo from his past -- a voice? Yes, it seemed to be a voice, no, it was more than one, a chorus calling from so far away. He stood up and peered out over the almost still sea and the strange silence that descended as swiftly as a sea mist made him doubt what he had heard. He shrugged, thinking that he must have been hearing things. Weaving imaginary threads into the natural sounds produced by the coastal vista around him, he conjured a dreamlike farewell, floating over the water towards him.
When she spied him down on the beach, she slowed deliberately. She slid the silken blouse over her head and down over her body, barely scraping her flesh as she tucked it into the full calf length dark cotton skirt. Sitting on the edge of a bed of rocks, she slid on the flat sandals that left the top of her delicate feet exposed to the elements. Straps across the toe and heel were all that held each shoe onto her small frame. She gazed at a rockpool and watched the mirror of the water, adding rippling creases to her garments. She twisted her hair up into a knot, off her neck and tied it with a clip. Strands fell around her face and neck and she pulled free a few more for the highlight. Then, at the last, she sprayed her favorite scent in all the proper spots, each side of her neck, both wrists, over her heart, a little in her hair and a touch on her upper thighs.
She wanted him anxious but not too much so. They had watched for each other from near and far, both catching glimpses of movements that drew them together. The recollection of bumping into him at the town market and then fleeing before he recognised her, had been a consolation to her, reminding her how firm his body was and how supple and soft her own must have felt to him. The things of fantasy lead to silent calls and beckonings.
She stepped onto the beach proper, replete with the warmth of the soft sand. The moist granules allowed her to sink gently down and press into the moving earth as she padded across the golden brown expanse. Well trained sea horses, flew on the crest of the waves, slapping to a halt at her feet. She took their lead, avoiding the jellyfish and holes of the beach, revealed by the incoming water.
He was just as she remembered him. The wavy hair and, even in the brilliant orange glow of the sky a detectable touch of green in his eyes. He dressed in light clothes for the summer heat and she could see his chest rise and fall slowly as he swayed on the bench, lost in his own thoughts. His shirt slightly open and tiny beads of sweat were sliding down his body.
Turning to the bench, but not indicating her approach to break into his private thoughts, she caught the faint smile on his lips for just a second. He leant forward and reached for a thermos flask at his feet and poured out a cup of the steaming liquid. When he held one arm out to the tide, she almost expected him to rise and toast the elements. Instead he leant back and listened to the siren chorus that had resumed in the distance in both their minds.
"There is seldom a tangerine moon," came the soft, silvery half- remembered voice in his ear. The sussurating encouragement of each syllable she uttered almost stopped his heart. He knew that for once this precious voice belonged to reality. He could hardly believe that this particular someone had quietly skipped up onto the bench behind him and was now pressing her cheek softly against his as she leant over his shoulder. Without looking round, he moved his hands up and held onto the cool, bare arms that had wrapped themselves over his chest, and hardly dared to hope.
"I am glad you remembered the tangerine call," she smiled. "I wasn't sure I would see you here on our night."
"Yes, you're sure, or you wouldn't have taken the time to surprise me."
"Maybe, but I'm still glad you came," she shrugged. He held out the cup to her and she bent down, seating herself next to him, before taking it in both her hands. She sipped and listened, feeling his nearness and the hot breeze that flowed over them both. He stared at the moon she had referred to in greeting him: a huge, deep orange globe. It hung so low that had its base was dangling in the water. It sent gentle moonbeams rippling towards them, like an old and dear friend nudging him discreetly, urging, "Go on!"
He understood this call instantly. Something this unusual and beautiful could never be ignored. It was something to be delighted in, a seldom seen pleasure that should be savoured for as long as possible. He turned to her and learnt from her twinkling, happy eyes that this time was safe, a moment preserved for both of them. He swept her up into his arms and kissed her for all he was worth, tears streaming down both their faces as their mouths were reacquainted with one another and with the passion of the moment.
"I've seen you so often in my thoughts since you left. I have wanted something from you for so long," he gasped as he finally released her from his embrace.
"Really?" she questioned his bluntness. "And what might that be?"
Thinking in the silence between them that she already knew the answer.
"You know very well. Have you come back for me?" He smiled back to her quizzically.
"You know how things stand, but I am here for the present," She muttered and stood impatiently, not wanting to hear his sigh. She roamed around the bench like a lost creature waiting for further confirmation from him.
"I only want your time and company. Nothing more than you want to give, now." He said looking away sweeping his gaze across the empty beach, as if creating a scenario that caught his attention.
"Why do you seek me out?" she wondered out loud. "You still enjoy these stolen moments?"
"You are irreplaceable. I needed you back tonight." His tone was so low and gentle she barely heard him, but a smile spread across her features, indicating her approval. She stood and stepped in front of him, seeing things in his eyes she had not noticed before. She needed to fill this space with him. She leant down to him and her lips grazed his hair. His scent filled her mind and she closed her eyes. Slowly down his forehead with tiny kisses till she reached his lips.......then she tasted all. Slowly and deliberately she teased him with her tongue across his lips and chin till she was nibbling on his neck.
Then she stopped and stood. Looking down at his eyes closed and his face eager for more. She realised that he couldn't move his head because she was holding him tightly against her bosom. She wouldn't reliquish her grip though. All he could do was move his lips to kiss the fabric of her garments, waiting, desiring, hearing her words, feeling them controlling him. Would he be enthralled by the sweet whispers of enticing moans that pull them tight together? Would he feel her breathing become his? Would her chest presses tight to him and her hand roams down low on his hips?
"Open your eyes," she whispered. The music of the sirens felt slow and soft, barely audible against the rustle of her skirt that filled his head, as she turned around slowly two or three times. The low boom of the waves breaking against the headland settled in her mind in time with the imaginary chorus.
She moved her hands slowly over her body, first down an arm then back up and across her chest. Then she took a step back and began untucking the blouse. When it hung loose she took the bottom and ever so slowly slid it up her stomach, bare and soft, then higher revealing the cusp of her breasts. Looking into his eyes she pulled it over her head in a single gesture. It fall to the sandy ground, silky and abandoned, like a discarded parachute . Firm and full, she wore no undergarment for she needed none. She was proud and moved in close to him to share herself with him.
He was leaning forward in the bench as if ready to rise for her now, but she pushed him back and leaned to him. He took a deep breath catching her perfume as her flesh grazed him. His hands slid up her sides then under and one to his mouth and tasted her. Her head fell back and she moaned low. For so long they had both wanted this moment. Now they were together. She moved away from him again and he started up to follow. She pressed a finger to her lips and gestured brusquely, bidding him stay in the chair. Her hips swayed, her hands ran over the contours of her body and she arched her neck so that she formed a lithe silhouette against the tangerine backdrop. Her fine fingers traced patterns from her shoulders down over her bosom to her waist, then across her hips and around to her back.
He gazed as she worked at the button on her skirt until it popped open. She wiggled her hips, sliding it down over them, turning away from him. First the skin of her lower back was revealed to him. It looked so smooth and malleable. Then bending more, it flowed over her hips. Little was left to imagination when she let the skirt fall to the floor and stepped out of it. He was ready to come to her when she moved toward him and took his hands. Setting them on her hips he put his mouth on her stomach and kissed her. His cheek then feeling the soft smooth skin next to his. Hands moved around to her full round behind and held her. Pulling her closer and teasing her with his tongue on the discrete whorl of her belly button.
Again she moved away from him and stood tall. He looked her up and down from head to toe. Over the breasts, the firm thighs, the round full behind, her back pliant and caressable. When she pulled the ties on the sides of her bikini pants and let them fall, he could no longer wait. She was so beautiful in her offering to him. He stood and reached into her hair removing the clip that held it. Her long locks fell around her face and dangled in the sweat from the summer's heat as he joined her private dance, turning with her to carry her down the wave swept beach towards the distant headland.
Her mind ran adrift on the winds of imagination, creating the stories of her dreams. Thoughts lapped like the waves of the ocean brushing gently at the quayside, mooring words side by side for others to take to quiet times, living upon the fantasies of a searching heart. They were both waiting for the storm that never seems to arrive, waiting ominously right on the horizon, stealing the enchantment of the sun from the dappled light catching her hair in its luminescence. She stared across the waves as they recede their way to another chapter. She built from the thought to her dream of finding that lost desire, wondering to herself whether these dreams will last. So often in the past, they had been ephemeral like the buds on the spring flowers, waiting to be snatched away on the breeze. These flowers seemed to blossom from the meadow of her mind,with the imaginings that her music plays for all to hear and delight in.
He cupped her face in his hands and, looking into her eyes, recognized the mischievous glance on her eager face. She turned away coyly so as not to give him too much at once......his poor heart you know....and he heard her laugh softly from a far off place, hidden from view. He always seemed to catch a glimpse of the hem of her skirt disappearing always before him, the laughing rising in pitch to a merry giggle. She peered from behind the pillar, those eyes beckoning a chase. He would let the delectable sweetness of that entrancing breeze revive his spirits even as her gentle careessing words, whispered from afar always did........Suddenly she stood tall at his cheek, a whispered murmur, a quick peck to his jaw and she took his hand and tugged him towards a dark pier. The echo of her words spoke to him, rising to an intensifying crescendo. As always, it left him yearning for more, making him dizzy with the sensation of her gentle sensual presence
His arms felt so heavy, but he reached out to hold her waist, pushing the small of his back into the darkness, tilting his hips to meet hers. They leant, embracing at the rail, listening to the waves crash below echoing their heartbeats. She cried out and shook against the rising storm within her. He squeezed her tightly against his own solid frame to comfort her. His head arched back further, his back flexed more, wanting to impress himself against her form. She moved with the rhythm of the seas and the lightness of the air. He smiled, hearing her giggle so proximately, at the thought of the excited trepidation building within him.
She moved to mold to him, taking his warm hand to her lips. A moment later she pressed those same lips to his palm, dreaming of a lingering taste of the sea spray, crashing against the rocks, and sprinkling her face, her thin cotton panties and her bare legs. Her hands held them there, stilled, like the waters of a rockpool after the tide of passion has receded. He knelt down to look up at her face, silhouetted against the strom of their emotions and felt the contour of a pliant breast brushing his cheek.
"Dream on - I know you do." She chided him and teasingly raised her hands to pull at his curly hair, lovingly, lowering her face in a tender kiss. He turned his head and his eyes locked on hers. She started speaking to him again in her wonderful rhythmic voice. All the time she continued to hold him, moving his head slightly from side to side, watching his eyes dance, even as he would have danced the night away with her.
She let him float again for a while, unsure whether to allow him to roam in or even ream against her silken dress. She knew that, in their dreams, he would one day find the way to touch her exuberant flesh. As she opened her mouth to bid him a gentle adieu, he realised those dreams were escaping from him at that moment. He scarcely heard her, his body not understanding her. The rising and ebbing sensations of movement were intense. She pushed him away from her close embrace forcefully and he almost stumbled.
He noticed the footprints on the beach leading from the sea and kissed her wet head. The breeze flowed in from the sea as he laid her on the sandy beach. He stood to gaze on his prize, undressing in the moonlight and slowly revealing his dark form to her. She reached out for him to join her, both hands holding him to her tightness. Revelling in her spell, he realised that they were not one being, one entitity, one creature of their shared imaginings. Their paltry independence left them like pawns on a chessboard, weak and indecisive, drifting across the board of life, to the end of the game, an end that neither of them alone could even begin to imagine. Together they took on the night. murmuring and sighing in tandem, exhaling in unison, whispering their thanks gratefully up and across the rippling sea to their own tangerine moon.
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