Romeo's Lament

Like so many chance encounters we met without any intention or inclination of what would come. What else is there to do when you meet someone for the first time but to strike up conversation and slowly wade your fingertips in the in the water of their personality. Her smile and her laugh were chords of joy played upon my heart but the melody was the song with a voice that made angels cry in jubilation.

Before dawn could rob the stars of their glory, a part of me was taken and freely given in the breath of a moment. By the light of day I had meant to replace the night's fancy with the days tedium but I was haunted by the memory of her.

We met the next night in a dream, reclining in an autumn painted orchard by a river bed. On a quilted blanket of down we held each other without restraint, lost in each others gaze that we had dared not fall prey to in waking hours. For when else but in the forgiving shrouds of dream can one hope to know such perfection without the threat of madness. A timeless passage of hours held me within those eyes until I died to be born anew.

My hand brushed hers and made a slow, deliberate ascension along her forearm and passed her elbow where my fingertips could grace to the soft parts of her flesh where the joints met. Cupping her shoulder I dared the first kiss and drank of her lips as if they were ripened fruit. My breath failed me as if being expelled to make room for the passion that was swelling within me. When she returned the kiss I was filled with her breath, exchanged for my own and we collided as one.

Her hands on me anchored my soul to my flesh at the same time her kiss set my spirit off in flickering sparks, her nails drawing crimson lines across my back in a rich tapestry of her need.

My hands ran greedily over every curve and crevice wanting desperately to hold all of her at once. I reluctantly pulled my mouth from hers and planted open-mouthed kisses down her neck and passed her torso where I found a mouth that I could kiss deeply enough to satisfy my need. With each descending kiss I licked her skin in anticipation until I found my head cradled by her thighs.

I brushed the full length of her lips wth my thumb lightly enough to tease but with enough pressure to open them, then a soft kiss on her clitoris to begin. My tongue followed the path made by my thumb, giving special attention to her swelling nub. Her heels dug in to my back as her whole body tensed and a soft moan started to rise in her throat.

Her fingers made there way through my hair, her nails drawing lines on my scalp before pulling up with two fistfuls of hair while using her calves to pull me closer to her. My enthusiasm multiplied under her forceful instruction, my tongue moving faster and deeper while my fingers kneaded and clawed at her hips and thighs. I hummed and growled in to her venus mound with unchecked ferocity, determined to taste the nectar that had not yet been released.

She thrust herself in to face again and again as her vocal cues became breathy and more frequent. I twisted enough to get a couple of fingers inside her without ceasing my kiss. Now inside my fingers reached up behind her clit and rubbed that spot that would ensure her release. Then it happened and her body quaked and shivered, at least one of her hands shot up to stifle the surprised scream came as I quickened my oral affection after each cascading orgasm.

At a time of my choosing, when her panting breath told me she'd had enough, I knelt before her and raised her ankles above my head. My hunger for her was not sated by mouth but merely channeled in to my throbbing sex. It took only a moment to place the head of my lust at her opening then a single thrust and we were as close as we'd ever be.

With one ankle in each hand, I held her legs open and pushed through her with even and measured thrusts. Her muscles clenched around my girth and she looked in to my eyes with a furious need to have me increase my pace. The pleasure of my actions was matched only by the sensation of control I was exercising, watching as her breaths matched the rhythm of my thrusts.

As my need for her overcame my control I placed the palms of my hands on the ground on either side of her and with her knees over my shoulders, I began to pound my flesh in to hers hard and fast. Broken whimpers filled the afternoon air above the baritone grunts of my own exertion.Her building excitement contracted again, this time coaxing the ultimate release of my own passion.

The dawn found me brimming with emotions and sensations I had never conceived before, haunted by the memory of her presence. Wet dream aside, talking with her and losing myself in her eyes filled a space in my heart that I hadn't known was there before and now the distinct emptiness without her their to fill it was maddening.

Who but one that has experienced such a brand of passion, that fills you to the brink of perfect bliss and leaves you aware of its absence when gone, can understand these chains that tethered me to her so unwaveringly. I had no choice but to win her affection or face the rest of my days with a mediocre echo of what I knew love could be.