The night was young,
and our bellies full
of deliciously sweetened ham
and gentle wine.
The candles burned on,
illuminating the room
in ghostly light,
aided and abetted by
a silvery moon.
I stood at the window
and glanced at that moon,
my head swimming with ideas
of what was to come.
Behind me, I heard
the soft whoosh of her breath,
and could feel
the room growing dimmer,
the expectant darkness closing on me,
making its presence known.
I did not move.
I barely breathed.
I waited for the next move. . .
and it came.
Her tongue gently slid
on the nape of my neck,
exciting the nerves
and giving my whole body
a jealous tingle.
She kissed the little hairs there.
She kissed the side of my neck.
Her hand ran along my stomach,
playing with the hairs there as well,
and she pulled me closer to her.
I took a breath,
the first, it seemed,
in days.
To say that I wasn’t nervous
was to utter a falsehood.
This was definitely not
my first time,
but this was
the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen,
the only one I’d ever loved;
I wanted this to be special.
Into the abyss. . .
I turned around,
and was about to speak. . .
she saw my intent,
put her finger on my lips,
looked into my eyes.
I understood completely.
There would be no speaking here.
There was only I, she,
and a primal, animal passion
between her soul and mine. . .
I parted my lips, and took her finger
within them.
She smiled, withdrew her finger,
and leaned in to kiss me.
Now it’s on.
Into that kiss
I put all that i had,
as if I could actually
focus my desire and
send it all to her through
the mere touch of a taste bud
upon one of hers. . .
She embraced me tighter, pulling
my mouth down to fit hers perfectly,
and deepening the kiss.
My hands went to her shoulders,
and slid the dress’s strap
from them, as if claiming her body
as mine and mine only.
It fell to the floor
with a silky sigh.
She, however, so no need for subtlety.
She grabbed my shirt and pulled.
Buttons went flying.
One made a cute little splash
as it landed in a glass
of unfinished wine.
The shirt abandoned me
with such ferocity
that I thought my arms
would be wrenched
out of socket.
I almost idly wondered
what had happened to my tie. . .
I neither felt nor saw
it leave me, yet
there it was, on the floor.
I began kissing her neck,
loving the peachlike smell
and taste of her skin.
Her hands went to my back,
played there,
and then quickly dashed
to my jeans,
fumbling with all the buttons
but eventually succeeding.
The jeans fell to the floor,
where my boxers soon joined them.
She was kissing my chest
as we stepped forward
out of the pile of my clothes
and her dress.
My hands went to her back,
and quickly, deftly undid
the snaps and set her
beautiful breasts free
from their 18-hour imprisonment.
My hand traveled again to her hips,
and pushed down the silk
that seperated me
from her womanhood.
We stepped backwards,
out of our trail of clothes,
our mouths still on each other.
She stopped, backed up,
and lay down on a conveniently-placed
tigerskin rug, beckoning me to follow.
And for a second, I couldn’t:
standing there, looking at her perfectly-shaped body
lying there, on that rug. . .
I almost cried at the sight,
because I knew Heaven
could offer me none better.
Then I joined her.
She motioned to me to lie on my back.
For what seemed an eternity
she explored me,
hands and mouth and tongue
searching me,
laying me bare to the world,
exciting me,
and I couldn’t have formed a whole
sentence at that point if
I’d wanted to, my mind
was just that gone.
And then these sensual
appendages found my manhood,
and engulfed it. . .
my eyes squeezed tight at the exquisite pleasure
and all I could say was
“yes. . .”
I felt pressure building, and something
in me reacted,
stopped her,
and laid her on her back.
I wanted to explore her as she had me,
to know her entire body
and every curve,
and through it, her soul.
I nursed from her, I tickled and teased her,
and went everywhere. . .
and when I came to her womanhood,
the desire to taste it and drink of it
and pull that little white flower into my mouth
overwhelmed me and I did it.
From her flooded such emotion
that I did it again.
And again.
When I had taken her beyond
where she could go,
I stopped.
And began crawling back to her mouth,
kissing her stomach and nipples
on the sweet upward journey.
I was at her mouth,
and began kissing her again. . .
when the kiss was at its most passionate,
I entered her. . .
Suffice to say
that velvet would not have felt better.
Her hips swayed to recieve me.
She matched my thrusts perfectly,
and we reached ecstacy together. . .
at that moment, I couldn’t have formed
a coherent word
to save my life
and it felt as if
I could reach out
and touch the face of God,
it felt so heavenly.
But before I could,
she rolled me over
and, with an almost childlike gleam
in her lustful eyes,
began setting her own rhythm, which I had no choice
but to follow.
It went on like this
well into the next morning.
We were happy, we were content. . .
never have I felt so loved
and never will I again. . .
I will always love her,
we will always be together. . .
That night was a new man
made of me,
one dedicated to her
and who will never leave her.
I will never forget that night,
the night I found out what true love was,
the night we ceased to be individuals
and became one in the soul,
the night we became a part
of each other,
the night I died in her arms.
late march-early april, 1995
©PCB 1998
Twilight Greyce 