When They Finally Met

The water came dangerously close to his feet, the last wave had almost kissed the bottom of his boots. He took a few steps towards the safety of upper ground, never taking his eyes off the majesty of it all: the stormy sea, the cold, harsh wind blowing though his hair, the port wall, in the distance, almost being swallowed by the waves.

He wrapped himself up tighter in his gray coat, it was unusual for him to feel cold but the gusts were getting stronger and there was nothing to shield him from the crude power of the blowing wind. The sky was overcast but not a drop of rain fell. He looked around, searching, wondering, his mind tingling with expectancy.

Then suddenly she was there, as cold and unprotected as he was, walking as best as she could along the beach, huddled in dark heavy winter clothing, precariously balanced between the safety of the upper ground and the danger of the breaking waves, her blonde hair blowing with every gust of wind, spun gold floating in the ether.

He walked towards her, slowly at first, eager to look cool, but found himself speeding up his pace, losing his composure in order to be at her side quicker. The stones that made up the beach rustled under his shoes as he stepped closer and closer until he could finally make out her face. It took one second and he was lost. Those eyes, those eyes had always been her sharpest weapon, her strongest ally, her deadliest friend. She could have killed him with one sharp look, if she had wanted to. He remembered a couple of times when he would had deserved it but she'd spared him, for reasons to him unknown.

They came closer until they stood only a few inches apart then stopped, as if an invisible wall had come up between them. There was a palpable tension in the air, a dense sensation of fear and anticipation. Suddenly, they came together in a mutual embrace, their heavy clothing making them unable to feel each other's heat. He looked down at her, she was small compared to him, yet he felt humbled, basking in the beauty of her shy smile. Their lips came together naturally, effortlessly, liberating, they were finally together, after so long.

Her pierced tongue ran against his teeth, so swiftly that it made him shiver, she trembled with cold and emotion, her hands locked around his neck, her body pressed hard against him, searching for his warmth, shielding itself from the incessant wind.

There were little words as they walked along the beach, laughing in the face of a bone chilling winter. Every short sentence ended with a long, warm kiss, every step was accompanied by a look or a smile or a squeeze of the hand. They made their way back towards the town and stepped into the welcoming heat of a café.

The conversation came easier then, it danced from topic to topic, from joke to compliment, from memory to memory, they both knew though that the time this could continue was coming to an end, that they wanted to be alone with each other. The anticipation was eating them alive, each unaware of the other's eagerness to hold, to kiss, to have them. Finally he got to his feet, paid the check and held her by the hand as they left the café.

She lead him to where she was staying, an old but pretty guest-house not far from the sea. They stepped through the door and left the howling wind behind them. The steps to her room were steep, dark, almost frightening but as they reached the top of them and she unlocked the door the light from her window illuminated her eyes. The verses of an old song came like a cannonball into his head: "The look she used was green and sharp, stabbed that boy all in his heart..." they echoed inside him as he walked past the door and heard it shut behind him.

He felt her arms push him, suddenly, roughly and found himself pressed against the wall, her lips around his, her pierced tongue exploring his mouth, her hands working at the buttons on his coat. She was so small compared to him, yet so strong with longing, charged by years of distance and forced discretion. Now though they were together, now they were free, now they were alone.

He kissed her back and slowly found his way to her jacket's zipper, sliding it down until her coat opened and slid down her arms onto the floor. She was dressed heavily but now he could see her shapes, the curves he had longed for on lonely nights. He could finally feel the warmth coming off her skin. His mind was far away, drowning in an overwhelming stream of emotion, lost in the moment he'd waited for so long. His hand eased upon her left breast, to hold it, to touch it, but most of all to feel her heartbeat. Would it be racing as fast as his was? Would it be pounding in her chest? Would it be warm and loving and full of desire?

Her hand caught him by the wrist, stopping him a few inches away from her chest. She looked at him, cruelly torturing him with those deadly eyes, then, she lead his hand under her clothes and up to her breast. It was full, warm, soft, as comforting as a mother's smile and as exciting as a dance with death, all at the same time. He felt her, her breath accompanying the movement of his fingers as he squeezed her from outside her bra. He closed his eyes and searched for her heartbeat.

It was pounding, racing, screaming at him. Her heart beat out of control almost dangerously, speeding suddenly with every movement of his hand or at every kiss she dealt him in that long, warm moment. When he opened his eyes again she stared at him lovingly, then smiled and dragged him towards her bed, throwing him onto the mattress, then, slowly, she followed suit and pounced on all fours over him, her lips once again on a collision course with his.

As she kissed him her hands explored him, touched him, caressed him, pulling away each item of clothing delicately, so much so that he barely realized he was naked by the time the kiss was over. He was powerless to her beauty, she remained fully clothed above him, looking down to him with the loving face of somebody who has found a lost treasure they thought they'd never see again. He reached for her jumper, eager to reveal her bosom, but her hands pulled his arms away and pushed them hard onto the mattress.

"Shhh.." she whispered when he tried to say something. "You're mine now, for today at least."

He relaxed and rested his hands on the bed. She smiled and reached under her skirt and her underwear slid graciously down her thighs and past her knees, all the way to her feet. Her left hand came up to his face, caressing him as she teased him with her innocent and yet naughty smile, her right found his manhood and delicately steered it towards her, to her sweetest gift, to the source of her desire.

His breath increased wildly as she let him inside her, a queen of beauty, gifting him with the greatest treasure she could give. She eased down, onto him, around him, soundless, trembling with pleasure, dripping with excitement. He moaned, she silenced him with a kiss, he reached for her and she offered herself to his hands. Their legs tangled, rubbed against each other, shivered at unison as their preoccupations faded and their bodies took control over their heads.

The minutes flowed incessantly, with nothing changing but the speed of their movements and the intensity of their breaths. He had no idea of how much time passed, nor did he care, he felt warm, wet, relaxed, his buttocks tightened and he pushed himself upwards, deeper inside her, further against her. Her breath increased, her kisses grew stronger, her thighs danced around his waist.

One by one her clothes came away, effortlessly falling to the floor beside the bed until she was naked on top of him, her beautiful body touching his as much and as often as it could. He felt himself drift away as she whispered softly in his ears, words he heard but could not understand. He was far away, lost in her, his eyes full of her look, his ears drowning in the sound of her voice, his taste buds tingling with the sweetness of her tongue, his body drunken with her beauty. Reality had become a memory and all that felt real was the movement of her hips and the coldness of her tongue ring against his palate.

She climaxed first, almost silently, grabbing onto him as she reached her peak like a shipwrecked mariner holds onto a rock to resist the waves, he felt her closer then than he had ever felt anyone or anything as she hung onto him, desperate for his body to be her safety, her refuge from insanity her anchor to a reality that felt more like a dream. Her moans came in whispers, her screams in muffled yelps, suffocated as she bit delicately into the skin of his shoulder. Her thighs locked, then relaxed, then tensed again, wetting his thighs, his hips, the sheets.

When her climax ended she took one deep breath, then giggled into his ear, whispering a few, choice words to let him know how good he'd made her feel. She looked happy, she looked free, that was all he cared about. He abandoned himself to her as she lovingly continued, determined to return the pleasure she'd received, enjoying every inch of him as he grew closer to his limit. He began to shiver, edging ever closer to his own climax.

When the moment came, it was warm, kind, loving, a pleasure that he had thought he could never feel. She slowed as he braced himself, willingly prolonging the moment before he spilt himself inside her, uncontrollably, then continued as he trembled beneath her, overcome by the sensation that came from his manhood and overran him, inch by inch, until it vanished into thin air, as if it had escaped from his fingertips, leaving him exhausted, empty, free.

He lay beneath her as she rested upon him, sweet, beautiful, unconventionally perfect as she was, her deadly look giving way to the face of innocence as her eyes closed and she fell asleep on top of him. He smiled and placed his hand on her lower back, following her into the arms of Morpheus, into the peaceful sleep that follows the most intense pleasures. He was hers and she was his, that was all in the universe that mattered that day, that was all there was.