"Does the world wait for us or are we just leaves caught in the wind of time?" I pondered philosophically throughout the last stages of the train journey. I was rushing ever closer to her in a trip of pure pleasure and total distress. this strange dichotomy of feelings was tearing me apart and making tears flow from my eyes.
I sat and looked out the darkened train window seeing tear of joy and tears of anxiety juxtaposed one on the other, like the droplets of rain clinging the speeding conveyance. I had to blink them back when the steward came by with coffee. Even then, I'm sure that he noticed my red rimmed eyes. Oh the pleasure to be with her; oh the pain to have to wait all that time to be able to hold to her.
Pausing for a moment, I thought back to how I seemed to have so much more energy since she came into my life. I yearned for the day when we'd be able to let the world know of our mutual, unique love. It would not be denied for we both hungered for each other on every possible level. Nothing could change things since I had held her in my arms and we had felt the future together. I doubted if anything could have changed things now.
I loved her vivaciousness, rushing over the paving stones outside her house and jumping on and off the low walls of the fountains in the nearby square. Sometimes she even ends up splashing through the shallows, laughing as the water sprinkles over her face and hair, shouting as she tumbles down, weighed down by waterlogged clothing. She likes me, I know and I hope she loves me too. And thinking of the way she always hugs me a little too long, in her dreamy way, I know this for certain.
As the train drew in, I was overjoyed to see her waving wildly at me on the platform. She was there and she was mine to love. She looked so fresh and though it was a cold night I could see that under the open furry jacket she wore a little top and shorts or "hotpants" as she called them teasingly. So inappropriate for the inauspicious wintery weather, yet so sweet. Her mouth turned toward mine and our lips touched lightly for a moment. Then again, for a second or two. Then, the third time, her mouth opened and her tongue gently stroked my lips, which then parted to allow her into my mouth.
Suddenly she pulled back, still and thoughtful - so unusual. It made me even keener to watch her for it seems fitting on such a gloomy evening. She often led me to believe that there wasn't anything to know about her beyond her public face ever present focussed - no past, no background, no future? I realised, however, that I didn't know her at all for all that I may have wondered about her a lot.
"It's so good to finally see you!" she said finally, hugging me tightly against her. She hesitated, almost slipping over, when she leant to kiss me again on the cheek. I looked around and thought with absurd melancholia - there was no one else to kiss for the station was nearly deserted now.
"And you don't know how good I feel to see you."
I stood back and looked at her, commenting to her how sweet she looked. She smiled and looked away shyly.
"Come on, let's go," she blushed.
As the horse and cab trotted along the rain slicked night roads, the steady beat of hooves on the tarmac bewitched me. I was relaxed as I looked at her fondly. My passions began to simmer, quietly bubbling after waiting for hours and hours to do anything and everything we wanted to do! Every once and a while I'd glance over at her, sometimes catching her with her hand clasped to her chest and her mouth half open, lips glistening, like the water drops spattering the car window. When I did, I reached over and wrapped my hand around her shoulders, gently squeezing her to me. She snuggled up, under my arm.
"I can't wait to be alone with you..." she murmured, the delicious thought flowing gently out of her mouth as she closed her eyes and gave a quiet moan at the thought of having me again. In many ways, this was the first time we had had the opportunity to fully experience each other, almost a honeymoon for us. The swaying oil lamps of the occasional cart and horse passing by the other way added romance to our journey. I started out of my relaxed mood when she, in playful mood, leaned over and whispered very suggestively "I want you to feel me against you as you take me as hard as you can."
I took her into my arms and shushed her, indicating the driver, who was glancing into the rear view mirror, eyes taking in our proximity and looking jealously at the cuddling couple he was returning to pleasure. If she had been driving, I think that we would have pulled over there and then to pleasure one another protected from the rain and by the rain from voyeuristic carriage drivers. Her hand came to rest in my lap and she made me start with anticipated excitement. I gently lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed her, smelling my excitement on her palm.
"Darling," I muttered. " The best things come to those who wait"
"Yes," she whispered back, giggling. "They say to be patient is a virtue and my your little nurse hotpants can't wait to doctor your excitement, my dear patient."
I groaned at her puns and had to withhold a moan as she reached down to squeeze the part she seemed most to want to care for at that moment. Then she slumped back next to me. I felt intoxicated with the pleasure of her proximity even though in my imagination in my travels ,I seemed to have seen her kiss a different lover every day.
I leant towards her, bearing down, disregarding any such concerns, ignoring any worthless regrets. I rested my eyelashes against her cheek and brushed her smile line with my finger. My lips rest on the dimple of her cheek. Another inch and I could just touch her lips. No, I didn't need to move my mouth. She moved her lips to me. They were so welcoming. They were so entrancing. They were so very, very moist.
Time was freeze framed around us despite the passage of other traffic. I could have watched her for ever, with my lips engaged with hers. She balanced her head on my shoulder, looking so comfortable as she caressed my arm. I couldn't recall her ever having been so gentle. My eyes remained wide open. I gazed at her awed by her proximity and passion, even as she closed her eyes to absorb the feel of my lips within her body. I placed my hand on her waist, squeezing her to me for mutual warmth. Her eyes flickered open momentarily and she seemed to see something in my eyes, something that made her dig into me. Her tongue was wet and warm. We duelled for a moment, tongues like dancing rapiers, probing the taste of this first deep kiss in our shared consciousness. The first deep kiss would never seem to end for us, being both a memory and a future insignia.
The depth of this passion surprised me a little for I did not have any real expectation of this homecoming. Perhaps she didn't really expect anything of me. I shook my head and broke the kiss prematurely. Relinquishing the kiss so forcefully caused a regretful twinge to well up within me. My apparent rejection of her lips created an intangible sense of self disgust. It threatened to make me choke in the sewer of my baser emotions. She sat back from me, looking slightly anxious at my coughing fit. Adjusting herself and, ever insouciant, she kissed the back of my shoulder as I leant forward. I sensed the pressure of her lips through the fabric. I wanted to respond by kissing her back, but my stomach was knotted with reservations.
After letting me be for a while, she pulled me back gently and raised her face to me. Her hand snaked its way under my jacket. My flesh quivered through my shirt. It always does at her touch - even a handshake. Her touch was firmer now as she ran her palm against my stomach, within my shirt. She pushed herself closer to me so that we are almost joined, like siamese twins.
"Don't hold back so," she chided gently. Her breath is warm on my face, a contrast to the cool night beyond the carriage window. I watched her, and the thrill of the sight of her gentle breath was my sole pleasure. My breathing quickened as she parted her mouth. She slid that tongue out and ran it around her lips. When she raised her hand to her plundered mouth, she kissed the tip of her each of her fingers, before pressing them and her palm firmly to my lips.
I let one hand slide behind her head and pulled her to me. I arched myself against her, the dominant masculine ego, overwhelming my control and the residue of any sang-froid or English reserve. I felt like undulating on the cab seat, riding the leatherette, even as I might have ridden her were this a little more private and less exposed. Oh! The modest, prurient Englishman straining to keep his hips from writhing. Just like his psyche, he must always stay under control. I suddenly opened my eyes and looked around, realising that familiar landmarks were appearing outside. Turning back to reality I looked towards the driver, with a lingering sigh of regret.
"Is this it?" I shouted up to him as we pulled off the main highway and onto one of the towns side streets.
"Yes, almost there," he grunted through closed lips, seeking to contain his jealousy. And then, suddenly, we were there, arrived and out in the shivering wind filled night. I would have paid him quickly and rushed into her house, but, when she emerged from the car, I had to stand back to admire her from the curves of her hip to the smile on her face.
I took her in my arms, just feeling her against my body as her warmth flowed into me. Coquette as ever, she looked over my shoulder at the driver, before planting a kiss on my lips as she began to rock against me. I wrapped my arms around her as we began that kiss again. We took turns teasing each other's tongue as I made my hand slipped down to cup her curvaceous body. As I squeezed her, I relished in hearing her moan and whisper in my ear about how much she wanted me.
The driver raised his furled whip sharply. The flick of shiny leather in darkness caught her eye. She pulled away from me bashfully and we paused in our endearments. I turned to see him laughing and mouthing 'Good luck' to us, as he disappeared into the cold night. In the almost eerie quiet, we gradually became aware that she and I were alone. She looked quite sad for a moment. Even though it abutted the most public garden square in the town, she stood silent there, looking up at the fountains, playing against the darkening evening sky.
So pretty a moment ago, she now seemed almost dulled by the reality of the damp wintery night. It's seemed almost ironic, given her habitual liveliness. She turned toward me, eyes glistening in the puddles of light cast down by the street lamps. Her face was surrounded by dark shadows. She nodded and rested her head on my shoulder. I glanced down and watch her as she shut her eyes, and . . . opened them again very slowly, gazing up opaquely at me. She knew we had our own home as well as our own time and so eventually broke that passionate stare.
The lights were off in the empty house and we scrambled through the hallway. She left domestic arrangements to me, sitting down on a leatherette sofa in the dark in the lounge. I gazed at her shadow against the dark garden window, watching her hug herself tightly in worry? anticipation? I could not be entirely sure; but I could be sure of her prettiness, even with the only light being the glow of the moon making itself known past the thick curtains. That soft light that suddenly made me want to see her in all her loveliness.
I went to the table lamps and switched them on, to cast a romantic warm glow around the room. Enough light to make our way around and see each other clearly, but not the blinding glare of the the harsh station concourse or sulphur orange of the street lamps, under which I had seen her since my return. She slumped on the sofa, watching me potter around the room, a half smile cemented to her lips -- looking at me amused and lovingly perhaps. She looked untroubled for what cares in the world could she have, save care for the love that she had for me. And those cares were ones that I so wanted her to treasure and keep.
Glancing over to her, I stopped and held still. She looked absolutely perfect. I stood there, transfixed by this beautifully seductive woman. My mouth gaped open when she slipped back on the sofa, running her hands gently up and down her body, arching herself like a preening feline. She mimicked me pressing against her as she blindly waited for her own panderings to be replaced by my pulsing maleness. I padded over to her, trying to avoid breaking her trance. I knelt in front of her, looking at her closed eyelids, wanting desperately to kiss them. I waited for her lips to part during another soft moan, then I made my move as I slid my lips against her unknowing mouth.
"Mmmmmm, I can taste you now," her honeyed voice came deliciously from her mouth as she opened her eyes. She eyed me with hungry desire. She didn't wait for an answer but wrapped her arms around me and unbuttoned my jacket slowly, letting her hands rub the velvet material. Her mouth opened wider and she leant forward to devour my lips again. After an eternity, she pulled back from me and looked up at me with smiling eyes.
"So sweet but am I going to be able to swallow the rest you?"
"There are other pleasures besides swallowing my love,"
I smiled. She giggled gently in response, holding me tight in her hand, and purred: "After you stretch me a little, will I still have to wait?"
I shook my head at the ravishing creature and bent down towards her. I lifted her up, pulling her over the arm of the sofa. Deftly she raised her bottom pertly in the air, knowing instinctively my fondness for her nether curves. I patted her lovingly. She seemed to relish this position, as she could lazily close her eyes and imagine lascivious things being done to her. She lifted her head and turned towards me aping a lost innocence and that immutably wicked insouciance - a dichotomy of waif-like charm that she had made all her own.
She lay against the cushions and let her own eager fingers run over her clothed form since I was apparently neglecting her. Her hair lay in a glorious sheen across her back, the ends trailing down to the sofa. I remembered that her fair skin and her body was mine to pleasure wherever, whenever and however I wanted. She wriggled engagingly, encouraging me to rest my lips on her flesh and to taste the saltiness of her skin. My hands slid up the demurely parted thighs. Her soto voce response was muffled by throw cushions. Her bare flesh was pliant and warm, malleable and exhilarating to touch! I clasped my hand over her, squeezing tightly -- so kissable, so elegant and so mine.
I laughed at her visible frustration, when I stood up and moved away a little. Gazing down on the sweet creature, I bent down to lift her up into my arms. Holding her half clad form close to my chest, I let her wrap her arms around me. I lifted her head up to kiss lips still wet with the taste of her sex. We broke the kiss reluctantly but breathlessly. I snuggled her in my arms and, lifting her up, laying kisses all over her neck, despite her giggling. She pushed her chest up to encourage me for her top had slipped up leaving her veiled from my sight by only the silkiest of brassieres.
"Patience, my love," I urged her and leaned over to kiss her again. She plunged her tongue into my mouth and stoked the passion within me to boiling point. We parted from the kiss and I smiled as she twisted erotically in my arms. My energy would power to new heights of excitement as I turned the light out and carried her up the stairs to our bed. We might lie sedately besides one another, letting time rest heavy between two people in the depths of the night, but this would be for an instant only.
Then that instant came. It was the moment when I turned and lost myself completely in the warmth of her kisses. I heard her gasp and sensed her tighten against me. With her eyes shut tight, her mouth twisted in delighted excitement and she emitted little mewls of pleasure. She was offering me the treasures of a secret valley, lost in time, but taken for an eternity. Licking and tasting her excitedly, slipping in and out of her avidly, I was encouraged by her wrigglings and squeals. My body moved back and forth . She cried softly as if trying not to.
I watched her intently, waiting for that sudden gasp. All through my lovemaking I knew she would murmur to herself. I knew it in my heart for she was muttering indistinct things in my head as well. I would hold her, my heart pounding. The erotic delight would build around us, drawing us together. Then all that remained was her. The rest was subsumed to her overwhelming presence. These erotic feelings would not be dissipated when the sun rose in a few hours. There might seem to be nothing further to discuss then, to match our present ardent intercourse. There might even be no role for intellect to play nor anything to concentrate upon thoughtfully. Yet, now or rather then, time was caught between us. She cared for that time and she needed it.
Does the world wait for us or are we just leaves caught in the wind of time? She knew the answer as she sank into my arms. Her head was again on my shoulder when she sobbed her recognition that a kiss, even, paradoxically, an eternal one, cannot last for ever. There might always be the warmth of knowing that we would wake together in the morning. There might always that loving sob of joy as we found one another in each others arms again. And these were the twin reassurances that brought tears to both our eyes.
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