"Does he still not understand?" she wondered out loud, reliving every memory of the previous evening. Above all she could recollect her arms wrapped across his chest in blissful peace. She had been silent as they reclined in the glow of the embers in the hearth, wondering if the aftermath of their love making would be the same each time or would he retreat into his enigmatic, protective shell. She pictured him as a turtle scuttling away on the beach and laughed out loud at the thought. His daytime shyness was so ridiculous compared to the romantic lover that she coaxed from that shell at twilight. Yet in the cold light of dawn the possibility of a recurrence seemed so absurdly surreal as to be consigned to fantasy.
There was an emptiness in her mind and a vacuum in her heart that ached in her subconscious while she slept and throughout the daylight hours, a conflict with the apparently placid countryside. It seemed as peaceful out there on the sunny foothills overlooking the bay as it had been in the passionate aftermath of their twilight coupling. As she began to draw parallels, she resolved to leave her chambers at in the early morning and to climb up the hill behind the chateau to confront the dichotomy within this man.
Treading lightly, she adopted a deliberately jaunty spring in her step, apparent to anyone watching. The keenest observer might discern the far off look in her eyes. Her gaze was drawn to the mountains that formed a backdrop to this hilly yet verdant countryside. She seemed to be staring up vacantly towards the mountains. A nervous tick impelled her to distinguish the distant passes that zig zagged down from the rocky heights, while she reflected back on the previous evening's pleasures. The hours of daylight separation from his loving touch were a real gap for her, but did that mean that there always had to be something missing?
The sensual curves of her climbing form blended in with the green swathes of lush grass curving away in front of her up to the first rocky outcrops of the mountainside. Cool air wafted down from the snow capped outcrops high up and they felt at peace in the stillness. The quiet was broken by the calls of the gulls over the harbour below them and the songbirds in the woods higher up on the hillside to the east. The counter balanced melodies drifted away on the light breeze.
She could see him looking down at her as she ascended the hill. He was standing there motionless, regarding her pensively. She hoped that he was also reflecting on the previous night's enjoyment, but she had no real inkling. When she reached him, he reached out fastidiously to touch her finger as if he were taking a risk. She started but did not greet him. Lowering her head, she surveyed the grass and crossed limp, trembling hands in her lap. Spreading the fingers of her hands, she rubbed one lightly against the other, feeling unsure how to position them to reflect her determined mood. Gestures could serve as well as any words and the mere fact of her being there was an opportunity to be seized. Would he seize it and her in this pastoral idyll?
His finger tips traced the contours of her face, brushing lightly over her ear and down her throat until the palm of his hand lay upon the swell above her breast. She allowed him to do this and did not move. She seemed too nervous to give any direction to his enquiring digits, until he moved his finger back up to her face.
He rubbed her cheek just a little, appreciating it's texture and she responded carefully. Raising her eyes, she performed the subtle movement that she had carefully rehearsed since day broke over the wooded hills. Her looking glass had been the silent auditioner as she had practiced over and over again. She wanted it to seem as if she was just dressed in the colour of her sparkling eyes, when she focused them upon him. She could envisage her success, certain that he would ascertain the exaggeration of the light within them. He would focus on these two beacons of her hope lighting up the palid features of her face.
It was a becoming a warmer as the day blossomed into a fully fledged summer scorcher. Tiny glowing beads were budding on her forehead like glistening drops of honeysuckle dew. She didn't mind the heat. Her attention was centered on the reciprocated warmth of his hand reaching down to stroke her head as she plumped herself down on the ground. She looked up at him and cupped her hands around the palour of a meadow buttercup. She held it under her chin, so that he could see the faint yellow glow. This flower was a perfect poetic symbolism of her mood that said all that she needed to say to encourage him to step forward and stand over her.
Reclining on the grass, she drew him in like a careful fisher woman. She lay back, shaded by the coolness of his presence, her view of the mountains obstructed in his shadow. Turning away from him, she plucked at the grass and picked up an innocuous little, white daisy. Frustrated for the moment by his failure to kneel down next to her, she vented her irritation on the poor plant, tearing apart the petals of a one by one. She counted her desires as each white fragment fell onto the grass. Would his compassion be stirred by the scattered fading white beauty fading?
She doubted it, but perhaps the thin blue skirt of her dress, sticking to her shapely thighs with the moisture of her skin's secretions, might rouse other more tawdry ideas in the furtive depths of his mind. Would he cling to her as the petals seemed to cling to the ground? They were soft and wispy, like the feathers of a fledgling eagle. With a little imagination each petal and the man she faced grew together into a powerful and even, with his acerbic jibes, cruel eagle for her to cherish.
When his lips touched her head unexpectedly in the heat of the late morning sun, she started. "A peck from the birdman," she thought and her shoulder trembled as she suppressed the rising giggle. She managed to hide the nascent smile when he leant further down, for fear she would discourage his more venturesome side. It was so rare for him to allow the facade of proper behaviour to slip this early in the day . It was almost unparalleled, especially when . he permitted himself to slip his hand beneath her decolletage, into her lacy bodice, cupping her and squeezing.
Her body tensed as she felt the sensation of both pleasure and pain merging into a passion that lit her core. She quivered as his hands found their way from her hair down to her breasts, that heaved and swelled from the confinements of her bodice. Her eyes close as his thumb circling the nub, pushes it in, almost playfully. He knelt down besides her and moved the material aside, before bending down to cover her with his mouth.
He ran his teeth back and forth ascertaining the contrast of the soft surround with the hard centre on his tongue. She caught her breath as his teeth lightly teased her bosom, as she gave herself freely to him. His touches, his kisses, his caresses were not just acts of intense lovemaking, but a gift to her as a woman, a person, a life.
He looked up again to the line of her lips. It was as seemly as her eyes, softened by the outline of her chin. He mused that when one turned to her mouth it was the ideal accompaniment to her eyes, the ornaments of her quite different face, fragile and sensuous and, yes, beautiful.
"You are so beautiful, Milady"
"As it's for you, Count, I must be beautiful"
"Come here, Milady."
Obedient to her own desires, rather than his entreaty, she chose not to tarry.
"Give me both of your hands and look me in the eyes."
She looked at him bright eyed. Would dithering beguile him or would it merely irritate? Within the depths of those glistening pupils he sensed an indefinable tease, waiting to raise itself from the depth of her subconscious. He liked to imagine her moods like the denizens of a sunken city beneath the sea - mysterious and profound. It was yet another attraction that drew him to her. The pressure she exerted with a glance was a force exerted on his heart and his passion. He felt her inexorable essence penetrating his body. Then she leapt up and rushed into his arms, launching herself to cocoon herself within his encircling arms.
"Kiss me,"she gushed, pressing gently, insistently.
He did not even listen to her now, but remained still, seemingly withdrawn from her. He gazed at the bend in the swift flowing brook, rushing down the hillside to the bay, even as their passion flowed. A stream of desire hastening down to an ocean of delight. A delight that he wanted to savour, along with the intense need to enjoy her again and again.
"We were close last night, Milord. Have you forgotten already? What happens to that dark passion at break of day?"
He smiled, thin lipped, as she pushed him back onto the grass. He looked up and saw a sky that was both tender and subtle, reflecting his mood. He laughed and did nothing to resist her as she covered his hips with her body and his mouth with hers. They sank together in a kiss onto the green turf of the hillside. With one hand she unbuttoned her bodice, deftly freeing herself from the confines of her clothes, with a double movement which, as she resumed her position, tightened her hold and enfolded him in a long embrace. She touched his forehead with her mouth and knelt above him pulling him towards her. When he first touched the skin of her bosom, he found it invitingly warm and yielding, filling out with unsuspectingly tender flesh, so marvellously expressive. He had to breathe it in, having nowhere else to inhale.
"Look," she offered. " Here are my breasts. I said to you once "I give them to you" and you replied "I'll take them willingly." Yet, you forget to take them every morning, Milord. See now, I have come to bring them to you, my neglectful Sir. Tell me, Milord, what else would you have me do with them?" Look - the tips are hard - feel them."
Smiling at her naughty persistence, he reached out to trace a finger along the delicate curve of her cleavage, thinking how she was always the tease. He pressed the palm of his hand to the soft firmness and let his fingers play over the material that peaked around the crowning glories of her chest. Those once obscured objects of desire jutted lusciously and beckoning him to take pleasure in them. His hand moved to cup her treasures, pushing the flesh upwards towards his mouth and the tongue that even then licked and swirled impatiently around his now moist lips.
Fingers played over her flesh and spread the bodice further open to reveal her fully. He reached down to caress the sensitive circle with moistened lips . His tongue retraced the path his fingers had taken, back up the hollow of her throat leaving a slick trail of passion over her chin, concluding in a kiss, lip to lip, mouth to mouth and tongue insinuating itself within her eager responsive warmth.
"Kiss me,"she insisted and, for once obedient to her wishes, he tasted the sweetness of her lips. The warm breath of her mouth was delightful as she drew his hungry tongue in. Her tongue toyed with his through parted teeth. Finally she opened her mouth wide to admit him, wanting taste the mellifluous fleshy male probe as its tip flickered in and out, easing its ways curiously between her teeth and lips. He drew back a little and paused a moment.
Wanting more for herself though, her tongue peeked through the lips abandoned by his mouth, hesitant yet beguiling. She was waiting to be drawn deep into his mouth and to be held there strongly, as his hand gently milked her uncovered breast. Her hands were round his face now. Her fingers were entwined in his hair to keep him close to her. She smiled and moaned weakly as his lips kissed her eyelids. . She responded coolly turning and tilting her head to follow his lips and tongue. He grazed round her ear, nibbling and licking its inner folds with his tongue tip that flattened to slither behind her jaw and down to bathe the hollow of her throat.
She sighed and turned towards him, standing in profile , but with a twist in her waist that gave him access to her chest and allowed him to run his mouth from one peak to the other. Staring up at the mountains, she watched those wonderful eagles swooping down from high in the mountain peaks in the distance to seize hapless prey. They flicked through the air just as hiss tongue flicked deftly across and around each soft trembling mound. This was his prey to be nibbled and suckled as he tasted the sweetness of her naked flesh. She squirmed on the grass, parting her legs slightly.
He turned his head and lay his cheek against her chest, listening to the beat of her heart, removing his hand for his eyes to drink in the beauty of her creamy form. His desire mounted and he pressed against her, rubbing up and down the backs of her thighs. He pushed his leg between hers . He felt her damp stickyness, just above his knee. He continued to suckle her breasts, a hand sliding down her thigh, then up, grazing the warmth and wetness. They moved against the hollow of her pubic bone. The pressing in and easing out of his fingers, the suckling and tugging of his mouth at her breasts makes her moan with growing excitement.
She gripped his head with one hand, pressing it even more firmly into her breast. With the other she grabbed at the hand between her legs, pulling it harder and faster into her. She sensed the rising passion within him as he touched her fine hair. She watched the grasses around her waving in the breeze and with goose bumps sliding down her exposed form, felt like a delicate plant rustling in the mountain air herself. She had felt the kiss of the sun as her dress slid to the floor in a puddle of blue earlier. Now, as her vestigial modesty was slipped down to her ankles, stripped away like many a pretty bunny before her to glisten in the sun, she was waiting, ready for him.
His tongue still laved the part of her breasts that was neither tanned by the summer sun nor adorned by pointed roseate peaks. He bathed it until it was wet and glistening in the sun. Her hands pressed his face tight to her breast as his mouth closed over its its blood red areolae. Her gesture released him to suckle her freely as her belly quivered in response to his lips and tongue. He lay between her spread legs now, the kisses and caresses of his lips and tongue moving downwards over the soft tanned skin of her belly, his body sliding over her. Her thighs were not closed, prim and proper, but parted, wanton, desirous.
The pink petals of her flowery nether lips were waiting impatient and attentive for a loving kiss. The delicate reddening inner lips peeked out invitingly, pressed against him now as she tilted her pelvis up for her rose red centre to meet his sliding body. She giggled girlishly and pressed the small of her back to the ground as his tongue flicked into her navel. Her hands pressed his mouth to her and then down until the tickling stopped.
Her body tensed and her eyes closed again as his wet kisses moved across her belly and his lips brushed over her mound. The musky erotic scent of her woman’s sex was in his nostrils now, urging him on to taste the sweet juices his application had brought from within her. He would be patient though and wait awhile to taste the flavours and textures of the unknown territory that lay spread before him.
He laid his cheek against the softness, looking up at her face. He wanted to gaze into her eyes, though they were closed in dreamy bliss. Slowly, always wanting to respond to him, her eyes opened and gazed into his, sparkling as her lips broke into a tender smile. Her hands caressed his the top of his head gently as she lay back again. Her twinkling eyes closed and her hands pressed him to her while he hugged at her hips. His lips and tongue kissed and caressed the tenderness of her inner thigh as she raised her knees beside his head and laid them outward.
She held herself there, still and ready, for his tongue to lap up the length of the soft crease. It brushed over her other thigh in a caressing kiss , before slipping down to that nether spot below the wetted lips. The taste was sweet and the bouquet fragrant to his tongue. Even so, he paused, hesitant in the sunlight.
The fragrance as he touched the soft fullness of her outer lips persuaded him. He dived into her deep waters and was soon swimming in the honeyed bliss that lay between hem first to one side, then to the other. The tip of his tongue gently parted the protruding edges of her inner lips and she sighed.
"Do you begin to understand now, Count?”
Her hands still held him against her undulating pelvis as his tongue found that elusive spot within her. Her grip tightened as his tongue excited her further. He withdrew and flowed up her velvety slickness, toying with the tiny bud that lay in the love boat that she offered to him.
"You must...understand now," she hissed through clinched teeth and raised her head.
She opened her eyes to see his tongue softly caress and his open mouth close over this intimacy. He pressed into her, nurturing and feeding her blossoming womanhood with his tongue.
"I could be yours Count for the whole of this life, but...,"she moaned, unable to finish her words as he parted her petals ever so lightly. He let her words flow over him, for he was concentrating on releasing the fragrant pollen from a sensuous water lily. He took it in as if he were drinking water from a well. She could sense him find her hood - a vessel for his lips to drink from.
"....but, if your love vanishes by day, then my daytime is a half-life....."
"A half-life?" he queried, pausing for a moment and looking up at her mischievously.
"Yes, a half-life and I don't mean one filled with quark, strangeness and charm, you silly man," she giggled
"Steal my words and my thunder would you wench," he laughed
"Such empty jests are filled with twilight memories just like my half life days."
"Indeed."
"Yes, indeed - don't let them be lost given this reality that could always be yours....,"she warned and at the same time promised through half closed eyes. Her voice stilled as he leant back and looked at her seriously. She frowned fearing that she had overplayed her hand. Those fears were short lived as she was swiftly rewarded by the hollowing of his cheeks drawing her against his cunningly receptive mouth. When his tongue caressed her softly, he found the mountain spring of her desire ready and waiting for him to slake his thirst.
"The one....,"she gasped, holding her words, delighted by the astute twirling of his tongue "The one...who is Master of my world is the one who makes me conscious that my world is his and his is mine all the time."
"Is that world going to die....when he dies?" he asked, toying with her words as expertly as his fingers still toyed with the nether parts so assiduously laved by his wicked tongue.
"Stop your banter, Milord. Come up here and enter me. Give me a little death now,” she entreated as she raised her head to take the sweet taste of herself from his tongue. The perfume of her own fragrance was reinforced by the scent of her on his lips as he rose to kiss her. She pulled him down onto her and guided him towards the haven that he had prepared so lovingly. Her legs wrapped around his thighs to hold him against her while she rubbed her against him momentarily.
"Take me,” she cried tearing her lips from his. Obligingly, she lifted her hips to him as he pressed slowly into her. Their conjoined sexes gave and received a rippling pleasure that spread within their entwined bodies. The exquisite impressions of their coupling seemed to increase as he drove deeper and deeper until they were fully joined. Her faint cry of joy was muffled by their kiss. He let those sensations recede as he withdrew slowly until only the tip was within her. When he cannoned full in again, the physical sensation was multiplied a hundred times.
"Make me," she encouraged as their lips joined and their tongues met. He pressed against her as he tilted towards her. Her body tensed . She guided him into the warm petals of her sex, aching to feel him as he plunged into her. She wanted to draw his body into hers, wanted him to stay close until her body had consumed him.. He pulsed and jostled within her like a tamed wild animal straining at its leash. He raised himself up on his arms. He lowered himself onto her. He looked at her intently one moment and the next playfully rubbed his chest against her.
She was gratified by the momentary emptiness left by his withdrawal - not for long though as she awaited his return impatiently. Her hips lifted and her mouth attended to his lips . The rhythm of his movements steadied, until he collided delightfully hard against her. Then he withdrew again only to penetrate anew as he subsumed himself to the palpable rippling throughout her warm inner folds . She positioned herself so carefully and offered herself so keenly for impalement that she propelled herself upward to meet him. The force was tantamount to that which he exerted in his descent upon her voluptuous, luxuriating form.
The pleasure of each stroke increased as she tightened her muscles. Their reciprocal enjoyment drove them closer and closer to one another. She gasped again as he withdrew and sighed as she felt him flare within her once more. She could feel him inside her now, separating, smoothing, caressing the inner folds as he slowly glided in; then emptiness as he withdrew; and again renewed excitement as he entered her again . . . again and again. Each penetration was a new beginning and a deeper ending, the exquisite pleasure both given and received perfectly. This perfection that increased, as each shove drove him ever upward towards her belly until she was filled with his flesh. Her heart was filled with joy. as she gripped and held him within her as he sought to leave her.
"No," she whimpered as she lifted her hips up to claim him, stopping him from pulling away from her, rippling through her folds leaving emptiness again. If only she could stay filled...but it was the filling that was the pleasure, that delicious effect of him massaging her flesh from within. It was not restful like his fingers on her shoulders and back . It was indescribably exciting. Deep within her, he raised an unparalleled tenderness that changed to pure pleasure as each stroke caressed it. And when his caresses were hard enough now, she would press back against him to make them felt and endure.
"Yes," he hissed, contradicting her insistently. The loneliness of her emptying was forgotten now and replaced by the anticipation of filling. He noticed the pleasant sensation of her closure, behind his slow withdrawal. He enjoyed the pause as he rested for a moment before plunging into the depths of her body again. She felt only the fullness in her at that point, the memory of the filling subsiding as they lay together......and now he hardly moved within her, every slight motion ushered in a pulse like stiffening and swelling against her inner flesh again.
She squeezed back, almost giggling as they made love with practically no movement. She wrapped her legs around his thighs to hold them fully joined as she savoured the pleasure of their coupling. Her eyes smiled as she gazed into his eyes. Her lips parted, faint cries of pleasure rising up from her throat as he came against her, pressing down on her breasts with each stroke. He brought his essence to her, reaching so deeply within her that his excitement seemed to touch her heart.
The air cooled her as he released her lips and raised up on his arms to lunge harder and deeper. When his flesh appeared, he paused, and then suddenly propelled himself into her again. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back. The faint mewls of a woman taken came from her parted lips as he pistoned against her. She only released him so that he could withdraw and enter, withdraw and enter, again and again, deeper each time now until his strokes were full in and she could hold him and excite herself. Her hips lunged against him as her legs gathered him in to her, grasping the harvest of pleasure proferred as he glided into her; each stroke faster, harder but no greater depth achieved. She called out his name to close around him and capture that moment, as she peaked into the vastness, freed of her fears of abandonment.
Something changed within her as they sought completion and the blissful peace that would ensue.. She was desperate for more of him in her. She was bent upon drawing all of him into her. She pulled him down to her, her fingers digging into his back, her tongue darting into his mouth. Her heart raced as the unslaked waves of pleasure built, carrying her in an incoherent cloud, blotting out all but the pleasure of their union. A sob rose from deep within her as repeated waves of joy rippled outward from the centre of her pelvis. Her body was shaken. Her contractions drew his shuddering body in.
When somnolent calm returned, the lovers welcomed the warm sun that kissed their peaceful surrounds. They held still and basked in the sun, enjoying a post prandial kiss, with a special intimate closeness. He moved to her side and held her to him, caressing her and kissing her while she slowly returned to reality. At the same time she longed to return to that plateau of intimacy from which she had reluctantly fallen. That same intimacy made him look at her face. He watched her sated features resume their former distant and controlled expression. She was already mistress of herself again.
With her arm she encircled him, all her weight pressed against him, like a shipwrecking sea. His gaze moves from the beauty of her face, up the hillside to the woods, the rocky terrain and into the clouds, breaking the mountains away in the distance and then back to the beauty of her body. He realised that all was there with her and within her, at the centre of her spirit, where he dwelt.
"Yes", he murmured, as if to himself, "I understand that all is right with this world."
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