That Autumn Day

I recall that autumn day, years ago. I couldn't believe you had agreed to a second date, after the unfortunate abrupt ending of the first, but when I finally screwed up the courage to ask, you accepted.

You liked my idea of a picnic, so I packed up my wicker basket with the leather shoulder strap, with the sandwiches, some caprese salads, and a decent bottle of a dry, white wine, sadly with plastic cups. A nice off-white blanket, and we were on our way. You were wearing shorts, and that pink baby-T I loved seeing you in, and I was the same, with my favorite red T shirt (the one without stains), which I've since misplaced. I wonder if you still have yours.

It's interesting the things we remember, small details as if from past lives, forever etched in our memories. That day is one of them for me, and I can only hope for you as well. I remember it with fond regret as the first time I kissed you, and also the last.

It was an early autumn day, not unlike today, with the leaves just beginning to show some color, but still a dry warmth in the air. It was sunny, but clouds were moving in as I dropped the blanket beneath an old oak, acorns crunching under our feet, and we made small talk as we both looked out over the lake a short distance away. I do not remember the precise words we spoke, but we talked of books we had read, and our favorite movies, and of things people getting to know each other talk about. For me it was a giddy heady time as I was absolutely smitten with you and could barely avert my eyes long enough to pull the carefully packaged food from the basket and spread it before us.

Fortunately, you liked your sandwich (I did my research), and the caprese salad was challenging with the paper and plastic, but good. We were both able to drink a single paper cup full of the sweet wine before tragedy struck by way of a stray gesture, and the bottle fell over, white wine pouring out onto the white blanket.

In your haste to avoid the tiny flood trickling toward you, you tried to stand and somehow lost your balance, teetering for a long second, before slowly falling forward towards me. I caught you, and you were able to gently sink down, kneeling in front of me, inches away.

Memories can be so strange. I've always had this one but like many memories, I've never shared or revealed it to anyone, keeping it safely hidden in that abyss which lies behind our eyes, where it has lain, watching for all these years. I cannot now even recall your name (maybe it was Laura?), or how we met, or why we never saw each other again, but that single, unremarkable autumn afternoon is indelibly marked on my soul.

I remember how you looked that day, and in all honesty, how you looked that day became my standard for what I looked for in a partner. Your long brown hair, tucked in a bun and framing your almond shaped face, warm brown eyes, and high, full cheeks, above a generous mouth, with softly smiling lips. Those kissable lips. The face of an angel, sent to Earth that I might have a taste of heaven. Why this memory has chosen now to seize my attention, as I near my final hour, I cannot say.

There you were kneeling forward, your face close to mine, and in that moment, time slowed as my heart thundered in my chest. I could hear my blood coursing though my veins, a drumbeat of urgency as my back and my cheeks flushed warm, and instantly, I knew I had to consume you.

It would be easy to have passed this off as mere lust, an emotion I have experienced often, but this was not that. Lust consumes with a goal, there is an end, consummation and then satiation. This was an eternal moment, where I could feel the desire, in all it's urgency, but it was not your flesh I wished to consume only, it was you. The *youness* of you. I wanted to breathe your essence in and make it my own. To merge with it, to infuse my being with you, bonding us for eternity.

In that moment, I had a choice, or rather, an inevitability. I could laugh it off, start cleaning the wine, and we would continue with our day as the clouds continued to approach with a hint of distant thunder on the horizon. Or...

It was as if a dream, as I reached up and moved a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. It was as if some unknown force was directing my movements as my hand lingered by your ear, cupping your face gently, broadcasting my intention as I leaned in for the kiss. Nervously I touched my lips to yours, softly at first, a caress. An electric caress that charged every nerve in my body and made me gasp, my tenderness a taut membrane holding back a tidal assault. Then, with no resistance, I pressed them more firmly, opened slightly to envelope yours. I sucked gently on your upper lip, as your hands moved to pull me closer.

My tongue probed tentatively, then piercing your mouth, darting in and out in shallow thrusts, your tongue met mine, and joined in the parry and riposte. I breathed in your breath, and you inhaled mine, and our tongues fenced and danced while our hands roamed freely over each other as time stood still, and the world ceased to exist. The ardor of my kisses intensified, as tenderness gave way to hunger, and my mouth opened as if to swallow you whole. Our mouths merged, becoming one mouth, our tongues intertwined in their mock battle, our breath exchanging our essence as we both sought to consume the other.

That strand of hair I tenderly tucked became collateral damage as I stroked your hair, disheveling it out of careless passion. I noticed my lips becoming insensate from their reckless onslaught and withdrew to look for more tender territory. I kissed along your cheek, reaching your ear. You felt my breath there, and shivered, as I explored your lobe with my tongue and teeth.

You squirmed slightly, as my tongue probed your ear, and I withdrew, softly kissing, tongue probing, and lightly sucking as you tilted your head to one side and my lips made their way down your neck, and then your shoulder. I tugged the fabric of your shirt back, and kissed along your shoulder, inhaling your scent. Light bites and nibbles made you giggle, and I began a more rapid ascent of your neck and cheek and returned to your waiting mouth, refreshed for hungry exploration of your parting lips.

My legs had become outstretched before me and around you, as you switched to sitting, your legs outstretched around me and over my legs. Our faces were level and rocked slowly from side to side as we caressed one another's cheeks, and chins, and shoulders, and necks and hair. As the sound of approaching thunder intensified, we were heedless, our lips continued to part and close and press and withdraw in a kiss that neither of us seemed to want to end.

Again, my mouth wandered slowly along your other cheek, stopping briefly at your ear, and then down your neck to the other shoulder, all the while breathing in your unique, exquisite, intoxicating scent. From your shoulder, as I tipped your head back slightly, my mouth wandered to your throat; that vulnerable expanse of the most tender flesh. I sucked gently, and kissed along it, and then up your chin, and back to your parted lips as I gazed admiringly at your half-closed eyes and marveled at my good fortune.

Unrestrained, our hands began to roam more freely, oblivious to a loud crack of thunder nearby, and I pulled you even closer with my hands pressed against the area below your lower back. My chest against yours, our bellies nearly touching, as our lips and tongues continued their now casual exchange, like old friends, settling in for a comfortable evening.

My hands wandered up your back, and to the sides, and then one cupped as it slowly enveloped your breast, and I sighed as we felt a drop, followed by a multitude of drops, and the rain came.