They came into the room trying to dispel the awkwardness with which they always greeted one another with teasing banter, plucking with dangerous accuracy at the sensitivities in them both. She had arrived at her apartment later than she’d planned so she had not had time to prepare for his arrival. She was off balance, nervous, he commented Why are you so rattled? She, flustered once again by her inability to hide anything from him This is my after work routine, I haven’t had time to relax, you’d be flustered too if you’d been wearing a bra for ten hours. He stretched across her bed long, lean, she noticed the line of his body, the grace she knew drew both women and men to him, the green glint of his eyes, the curve of his lip that ended in a malevolent dimple that spoke of all the things he had planned for her. After fidgeting around for a few more minutes, tweaking this and that, brushing her hair and changing her clothes, she finally went over to the bed and lay down next to him You all done now? he asked. She answered him by tracing the line of his lips with the tips of her fingers and following with feather-light kisses breathing Yessss into his opening mouth. She drew back and smiled. Answering her invitation, he climbed on top of her, freed one breast and began to kiss her. His familiar actions released a torrent of thought in her mind for his tongue and teeth felt alien on her skin and her blood sat dormant in her veins. Desperately she thought Where is my desire? She lay there limp and unresponsive while he ministered to her, punished her nipples with his teeth. Undoubtedly wondering why her usual moans of mounting excitement were absent from her throat he made that the next target of his fervent attentions. In her own mind her thoughts were a jumble of their past conversations, she wondered What am I doing here? Why am I doing this? Why are we here? Where is my desire? She reached up and grasped his head between her hands kissing him asked What are you thinking? He appeared amused Nothing. – Nothing? You are thinking of Nothing at all? He returned to his kisses commenting But your mind is all over the place…Screwing up the courage to speak to the fear mounting in her heart she pulled his gaze back to hers Are you not even thinking of what you are doing? He looked at her, kissed her gently on the brow replied baby, you think too much. Kissed her to silence her. She followed his lead, opened her mouth to let his tongue slide in, tried to banish the doubts in her mind. He rose to his knees and then off the bed to lean over and slide her pants off down of her hips. His sharpened nails emphasized the passageway of his hands down the sides of her thighs. She observed, silently that he seemed to have an affinity for digging into the softest parts of her, and wondered if he took pleasure in it or if it were rather, and perhaps more perversely, something that he naturally, and instinctually were inclined to do. He came back to her naked, probing, the head of his penis pushing against her clitoris and breathing her name into her mouth. Feeling his hardness in her most vulnerable of places finally provokes her indifferent desire and she awakened to him as he slid into her. Her body clings to him as if it were molded to fit only him and she was aware of the entire surface of his flesh as in came in contact with her own. Her doubt was gone she no longer had to wonder, to worry about her desire, all she could think was I love, my God I love you…you I love…I love you…I am yours...forever…I love…I…even in her mind these words were breathless. They mounted closer to the pinnacle and she became even more fevered in her thoughts and in the moment of her orgasm she looked in his eyes and realized she was alone. She fell from the sheer cliffs of the pinnacle to which he had brought her, crashing from her lovers high in the realization that is was a high he had not shared. Seeing the tragedy in her eyes, he beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom knowing the days of silence were ahead.

10/13/2003

Author's Note: This is my first attempt in like 4 or more years in writing a piece of fiction prose.

Posted on 10/13/2003
Copyright © 2024 Teri T Lahmon