Outside the bedroom window is a new, crescent moon, hanging like a Christmas ornament. Next to it, Venus, the Morning Star, makes this quiet moment magical. She sees a sheen of frost on the glass roof of the sun room below, and shivering, realises that the radiators have yet to awaken.
She snuggles back beneath the smooth Egyptian cotton of the Dorma duvet. She pulls it up around her neck and squeezes her hands inside her thighs to warm them. Sleep eludes her though, and she begins to feel a sensation of arousal emanating from inside the silk panties. She rolls over on her side and reaches out, whispering; "Hey Big Guy, are you up for it?"
Her hand discovers a long, hard shaft, so she takes this to be a positive reply. He is always ready though, particularly early in the morning. She flicks the iPod onto the new age album they enjoyed on their Tunisian holiday. This always conjures up pictures of bikini-clad girls performing gymnastic aerobics in the shallow waters. The lithe young men are the ones who organise the music and set the pace. Whenever she hears this music it always seems to generate sensuous feelings, combined with the memory of hot sun on a semi naked body.
She marvels at the masculine feel as she wraps a hand around this form, standing as stiff as any soldier. Wriggling closer she presses it against her pubic mound and slowly at first begins to raise and lower her pelvis. She sees herself lying on the sand at the water's edge, feeling balmy waves start to wash over her.
A small intake of breath escapes with an involuntary "Mmmmm" as a tingling ripple of pleasure sweeps over her body. The hips undulate more insistently and a probing finger is tentatively inserted between the moist lips of the labia. "Oh yes, baby, right there." The knowledgeable finger complies without hesitation; probing and circling slowly. Then feeling the muscles relax and stretch, yet another finger slides inside, and is rewarded with a cry of "Oh yes ... more like that." Now riding the crest of the wave suspended between frustration and fulfilment.
The hips are moving rhythmically, the sense of urgency increasing with each thrust. The sun is hot; the music is loud; the boys are fit; the surf is up. Breathing has become gasps interspersed with cries of joy; words are no longer possible. It is all about the body, all about the feelings - ascending higher and higher. The bed and the beach are left behind, as movements become more frenzied reaching closer and closer to the peak.
Suddenly the summit is within reach, and she thinks; "Yes, home free!" and a series of intense moans escape as the head is thrust back, neck stretched; toes curled, with the desire to capture this moment, that it might last forever. Then slowly the muscles relax, the spasms return to waves and the music becomes quieter. The duvet is kicked aside to release the heat.
"That was absolute heaven Big Guy. I think you outdid yourself this time."
Yet there is no response. The eyes open and the room comes back into focus. The eastern sky outside the window is now streaked with coral and the break of dawn is imminent. But, the other side of the bed is devoid of human form; only the vibrator lays silently there, its blue tip visible in the growing light.
