Spark And Tinder

Authors notes: This is a short story I began years ago but never finished. I found it among some files long forgotten recently and wrote the ending. It is among my earliest writings and of a more terse style than I have evolved to currently. Be aware that there are some quite intentional sentence fragments and other grammar breakers. I choose to leave them in as written; they fit the terse quality of the writing. The genesis of the story is biographical, but the story itself is fiction. The song verses used through the story are from Suzanne written by Leonard Cohen and first recorded in 1966 by Judy Collins. For those not familiar with Leonard Cohen's musical poem Suzanne, YouTube lists many versions of the poem/song. One featuring Leonard Cohen and Judy Collins is my favorite.

*

Fire just happened, happened the way things often do. Spark was on stage. Tinder was sitting in the audience, not looking for Spark, sitting there on another mission. For Tinder, the mission of the evening was entertainment and escape. Spark was on stage singing and playing. Spark was playing for the audience and Tinder was one of the crowd.

As good entertainers do, Spark projected to his audience, joined with them, brought them along on his journey. Projecting, Spark struck Tinder and there, then and there, a glow instantly took hold. The next song, next notes, blew the glow to ember of nascent flame. A chance meeting during intermission, not chance at all - intended - fulfilled, gave name to Spark and Tinder. Name and promise.

Spark became a real person, DC. Tinder became R. A hand on the forearm, a look and smile, R's hand and DCs smile; not much more was needed to cause the flame to leap. I'll sing a song for you in the next set." "Thank you, I will be waiting."

Lights dimmed, the second set began. Midway, an interlude, retuning of the guitar in concentration and all but silence, and then an introduction: I met a lady tonight, she had a special smile and her smile talked to my guitar. This song is for her.

Introductory chords played and DC's mellow voice began singing softly:

Suzanne takes you down

to her place near the river

you can hear the boats go by

you can spend the night beside her

. . . .

R hummed in her mind, this was a good song to start with, something about knowing she's half crazy. I can be half crazy, all crazy if I choose.

The mellow voice continued, R stared in DC's eyes as he sang to her:

And just when you mean to tell her

that you have no love to give her

. . . .

DC's brown eyes met R's hazel eyed stare, and his eyes did not sing the words of the song. There was something to give, some love to give.

R's eyes and lips joined her suitor and she hummed the next few lines:

then she gets you on her wave length

and she lets the river answer

that you've always been her lover

. . . .

R, eyes closed now, they no longer needed to look at one another for this song at least, they were together. R was waiting for the lines she knew would add further Spark to Tinder. R's lips moved in synch with DC's:

And you want to travel with her

and you want to travel blind

and you know that she will trust you

for you've touched her perfect body

with your mind

. . . .

Her song ended, R began to breathe again, others applauded. The few who knew her stared. R did not hear applause did not see her friends staring. Spark made a final gesture to Tinder, DC blew a kiss.

Spark and Tinder met again in the hallway outside his dressing room. The beer that soothed Spark's throat did not douse the flame that had built. Tinder went to her toes to kiss this singer who had found the chord within her. People passed them, they were oblivious. Here and now was only two perfect bodies, two perfect minds.

"Am I the first black man you have kissed?" "No, not the first." With a twinkle in her voice R added, "The first black man I kissed openly, the others were furtive, at parties. Let me kiss you again and I need to go home."

Bob was home when R returned, of course. He had worked late, but had been home almost an hour. "How was the club, the new performer?"

"Good, solo, acoustic, mellow stuff. You would enjoy hearing him."

"Maybe I can, if he does a late set Friday. Ready for bed?"

"Yes, ready for bed."

> > > > - - < < < <

Three phone calls over four months kept Spark and Tinder together at ember. Three phone calls, two kisses, and memories. "You have babysitting duty tonight Bob; I am going to the club to hear DC. I may be late; I probably will be late." Bob nodded, "Have fun."

R went with DC after the performance. He was staying with a musician friend who was conveniently playing in another city. Four hours of Spark and Tinder created a fire of passion. They shared kisses, and shared conversation. They shared wine, and shared the scent of incense. They shared their perfect minds. They shared their perfect bodies. They shared openly.

DC and R lay in front of the fireplace, kissing, touching, talking softly. Each was unabashed in their nudity; they enjoyed being together this way. DC's dark shaft grew from his midsection; the shape of his cock suited him. It was long, strong, trim, erect - Very Erect. "This IS the first black cock I have kissed. I hope to kiss it many times." DC brought her lips to his, "We share a hope."

R and DC talked of their lives, their interests, and their feelings. They made tender passionate love in front of the fireplace. The setting was appropriate for Spark and Tinder to fully join in flame. After the flame reduced to ember once more, R and DC kissed, talked and touched again.

Their second loving was intense, passion overtook conversation. Kisses and touches no longer sufficed. They had to be joined. Their lips glued together in passion, as did their chests, thighs and loins. DC's dark shaft needed a home inside R's pink pussy. Brown and pink would forever be a special color combination for both. Their hips bucked until their combined fluids once again controlled the fire. Their fluids controlled the fire, but by no means doused the simmering ember.

The clock attempted to impose discipline, it failed. The lovers needed one last expression of their passion for the night. DC and R reverted to tenderness. They rained kisses over their bodies. Their hands explored sensitive parts. R loved the visual contrast of white hand on brown chest, on brown buttocks. DC loved the image of white delicate hands holding his brown beauty cock as she kissed his crown. R kissed and sucked her fill and then guided DC into her pink folds.

This time their organs flowed together gently. The urgency of the first two couplings gave way to the sexual dance of lovers wanting to give and receive with each other. When this loving was complete, each knew they shared a special evening. R finally had no choice, she must dress and go. The lovers shared a last kiss at the door, but no words were needed.

Bob was sleeping, but lightly. He was aware even in sleep when R was not home. He woke when she finally crawled under the covers. "How was your night?" "Good, very good." "How was he?" "Very, very, good - wonderful." "Want to tell me?" "No, not tonight, tonight is mine, some other time, maybe." "Goodnight Bob, I love you." "Goodnight R, I love you too."

> > > > - - < < < <

R looked out the window from her coach seat. The flight to Santa Fe was little more than an hour. They were at cruising altitude now, the stews had served drinks. R had an hour with her thoughts and her drink. DC would meet her at the airport.

Intermittent phone calls had not been enough. R asked about his schedule with an eye to this trip. R selected Santa Fe, the romance of the Old Southwest was part of her soul. DC could have given her most of a week next month, R wanted this weekend now.

R fingered the ring on her left hand, the wide band of gold with initials and a date etched inside. Her mind sorted through the weekend ahead. R had arranged the room in an older restored hotel. The setting would be a special memory, better far than a Holiday Inn. DC was already there.

Tonight would be mad passion, renewed after months apart. R realized she was simulating the motions using her finger and ring. She had purchased a pretty new nightgown to sleep in. R intended to put it on just before they went to sleep for the night. Until then, nude, naked, raw passionate sex with no barriers.

In the morning they could make love in her new nightgown before breakfast. Then sightseeing, maybe Taos. R wanted to visit Taos with DC. Holding hands and experiencing the old pueblo. She wanted to find the wise old Indian woman.

Tray tables and seat backs upright, prepare for landing.

The announcement snapped R back to the present. She looked at her hands and saw the gold band was off her third finger. R chuckled softly. She stared at her hands for a moment and then moved the band to her right hand, third finger. The plane landed.

> > > > - - < < < <

Spark and Tinder was still a recipe for fire. Their ferocious passion ignored everyone else in the airport. R would not keep her hands to herself as DC drove to the hotel. Her fingers unfastened buttons as soon as the room door closed.

R pushed DC back on the bed and told him she intended to devour him. She needed to fill in the months without. R parted DC's chest hair and loved the nipple over his heart, loved his nipple with lips, tongue and teeth.

DC's chocolate cock was her next target. R kissed and sucked his dark cock intently. She drew it in, sucked, licked the shaft inside her mouth. R wrapped his shaft with her mouth as tightly as possible and began to hummmmmm. The vibration excited both lovers.

R pulled off, "I want to ride you, ride you to new fields." She mounted the brown shaft and lowered her moist heat. R's hips undulated, her vaginal muscles gripped and clutched. When R was sated with recalled stimulation, she began a vigorous up and down thrusting. Neither lover wanted to hold back. They shared their orgasms and collapsed melted in each other's arms.

After loving and breakfast R wanted to see the mountains. She was a flat land girl. Except for airplanes the fourteenth floor on an elevator was as high as she had ever been. R turned herself over to DC. DC led the way in his jeep.

DC took R to the mountaintop. Side by side, hands linked, shoulders touching they were together with blue sky and clear air. Spark and Tinder did not need words spoken. They felt together in their silence:

there are children in the morning

they are leaning out for love

and you want to travel blind

you know that you can trust her

Wise Old Indian Woman sent her spirit to the mountaintop calling. Back in the jeep, point down highway curves toward Taos and the pueblo. R felt the spirit first. At the table, there she is, she wants me, I need her. Still holding hands R led the way. Both looked at the jewelry the Indian Woman had for sale.

Knarled hands reached out and R gave hers in return. The women locked eyes. R was drawn in with Wise Woman. Fingers played R's left hand. The woman shifted her gaze. DC nodded. Wise Indian Woman selected a ring. Silver surrounded turquoise stone. She held it to DC who nodded again and took the ring.

Wise Woman brought two hands together. Silver and turquoise fit perfectly on the naked finger of R's left hand. The twisted boney fingers wrapped a wrist on each of the lovers. Before they walked away to explore the Pueblo further, DC wore turquoise in a bracelet on his right wrist. Wise Old Indian Women left them with last words: You are many people, each must find who you must be.

"Bring your guitar; let's find a quiet place." R wanted to be Tinder to DC's Spark again. She sat on the grass at his feet. He sat on a boulder and tuned guitar:

Suzanne takes you down

to her place near the river

you can hear the boats go by

you can spend the night beside her

. . . .

Eyes locked, minds joined. R followed humming and singing silent until they reached the finale:

. . . .

There are heroes in the seaweed

there are children in the morning

they are leaning out for love

and you want to travel blind

you know that you can trust her

for she's touched your perfect body

with her mind

In the heat of the afternoon lovers returned to their hotel room to blend perfect bodies and perfect minds. Only dinner with food for the body interrupted passion. When morning sun shined on them an airplane's schedule pulled them apart. Children waited. Bob waited. DC was here; R was here. Spark and Tinder were here now.

Lovers kissed. R boarded the airplane. DC waved goodbye and blew a last kiss. R stopped and turned. Eyes held one another a last time. R reached to the ring and turned back toward the plane taking her away from Santa Fe and her Spark.

Sadness at memories of parting, R would have to fight to keep all memories hers alone -- Not Them, Not Yours or Ours, Mine, Mine Alone. Words of Wise Old Indian Woman flew with R as the airplane winged home: You are many people, each must find who you must be.