After some 10 years of leaving home she feared her return would only prove to be a disaster. Yet she had no choice but to go home.
As a teenage girl she had fallen in love with her best friend. He knew her every thought, her every mood. He knew her.
She shared everything with him except the love she felt for him.
Maybe she should have.
She had never felt and has never since felt the way she did every moment she spent with him.
He made her feel loved and had woke something in her she had yet to discover existed.
Who was she kidding, He was her best friend. Everyone knows the best way to kill a friendship is to fall in love with them.
She had never met anyone like him; he was attentive, caring and respectful.
He always made her feel as though he'd move mountains for her if she'd only ask.
Maybe she should have.
In one night, in one moment of time. She had let that opportunity be stolen from her.
Someone else had stolen her moment and moved her mountain, placing it between them.
She could no longer feel that special warmth she'd felt in those moments spent with him. She no longer felt she deserved to have those moments.
No longer deserved for him to move those mountains for her, to push back the mountain now between them.
After years of separation. The first time she truly saw him, she could feel the shadow of that forgotten mountain looming over her, as he walked right through it bringing with him the warmth of the moment, she'd lost so long ago.
That feeling of unadorned affection and unconditional love that he had once instilled in her.
14 years have passed and He's wrapped her in his affection. As attentive and caring as though she had never left him.
She feels it every moment they spend together. In every door he opens. The soft caring voice in which he speaks to her, the way he looks at her. (Or does he)
Once again he knows her, her every mood, her every thought (or does he).
Maybe he should have
He reads her; she feels it in everything he does. In the music they share, the way he smiles at her, the light in his eyes, the way he takes care of her.
Once again she knows his every mood, his every thought (or does she) They share everything with one another (or do they)
Maybe they should have.
Nothing has changed, after 14 years it's still the same. He loves her, or does he? she loves him, or does she?
Maybe they don't, or do they?
She fears his touch for the warmth that it builds in her. The desire it creates.
The feel of his hand and the brush of his skin only serve to build a fire within. That touch makes her crave him and remember how it feels to sleep by his side. The warmth of his body drawing her in.
Will they finally come together, (or should they)
Maybe they should have.
As she listens to his soft warm voice and closes her eyes she can feel his presence as he draws nearer. She can feel his hands on her waist and his warm breath on her neck, soft kisses behind her ear.
She's dreamed of his touch for years now, such a warm gentle loving touch.
The feel of his hands traversing her skin. Eye's still closed, heart now pounding from the growing needs inside her. The fear, longing, anticipation and excitement. As he moves his hands to her shoulders softly caressing her silky skin.
She can feel his hands massaging her neck, shoulders, down her arms.
The heat building in her, a shiver makes its way down her spine and she can feel a tremble in her legs.
The fear grows as she wonders rather or not she can handle this touch she's longed for. The fear of not knowing what will happen next. The biggest fear of all; not knowing what will happen afterwards, in the days to come.
Will this be the first and last time she'll ever know his touch?
She searches for self composure when the tips of his fingers graze her breast as his hands explore her arms.
The kisses and suckling he continues to lavish upon her neck cause her entire body to tingle. She feels the warmth and wetness make it's presence below.
He turns her, face to face now she try's desperately to hide her feelings from him, doesn't want him to know how much she's longed for his touch.
She thinks of how she needs him, how she wants him.
He whispers in her ear, I need you, I want you.
Was she thinking out loud or does he just know.
He nibbles her ear lobe then kisses down her neck to the hollow place, unbuttoning her shirt as he does. He caresses her breast; his touch and the feel of lace rubbing her sensitive nipples make her breast so taught and nipples so hard it almost hurts.
She can't believe how sensitive she is to his touch. He un-clasp the front of her lace bra. She feels his lips meet hers, his tongue parting them as he kisses her long and passionate. His hands caressing her breast, fingers circling her erect nipples occasionally pinching them.
He releases her from his impassioned kiss and takes her breast in his mouth.
Her trembling body and low moans make him aware of just how receptive and sensitive she is to him. He's careful, making every touch soft and gentle.
Her breathing becomes labored, legs shaking, body trembling. She feels her knees wanting to buckle under her.
She can't handle his touch, can't control the emotions and fire that's fought so long to be released and she climaxes for the first time of the night.
He takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom. Slides her pants over her hips and lets them fall to the floor, pushes her shirt and bra straps off her shoulders following them down her arms also letting them fall to the floor.
She wants to open her eyes, to see him take him in. Fearing it's all a dream she keeps them shut to savor the moment.
