The Rabbit

Wednesday was always Sahara’s favorite day of the week. It was in the middle of everything. It meant half the work week would be over, and she’d be able to see HIM. The man who’s beomce her fixation over the past week. She’s seen him twice now-both times on a Wednesday, and she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since.

She was on her way home from class, walking along Michigan Avenue, listening to the loud clip-clopping of her shoes against the asphalt. The street was blocked by construction with most of the side streets closed to thru traffic. Everything was silent save the tramp of her footsteps echoing off the buildings as she passed on her way to her bus stop. Her feet ached as she picked up her pace, cursing the construction for making her have to walk five blocks out of her way in order to get a working bus stop not closed off by the construction. There was no air which made the street erie and added to her own already growing loneliness. The streetlights lined along the sidewalk staved off the shadows to her right, but she still hurried her pace, anxious to get off the street.

A block from her stop the streetlight turned and Sahara was left waiting on the corner as one of the few open street allowed cars through. As she stood there, her eyes waundered ahead and caught a large picture window facing the street. In the window she could just make out the face of a young man. He seemed to be nearly pressed against the window, his gaze fixated on something across the street. Suddenly fascinated herself, she tried to follow his gaze but only saw the median strip and an empty park that lay just beyond it on the other side of the street. She tried to dismiss his fixation as crazy but the closer she got to the café, the better she could see the young man. He was beautiful. He appeared to be Korean. His small oval eyes were serene as he gazed up, his well-sculpted cheekbones and full mouth relaxed in such an expression of rapture, Sahara stopped in her tracks to watch him. She was close enough to see him but still just out of his sight. She watched as he slowly raised a finger to the window, frosted by the slight chill of the night, and traced something on the window. He pulled back and gazed up again, seeming to compare his tracing to whatever he was still so enthralled with.

Sahara tipped slowly closer to the window, as if afraid he might hear her and it would break the spell he’d created. She made sure to stay out of his range of sight as she leaned against the cool brick facade of the building and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. As she gazed across the median, her gaze was drawn up to a beautiful three-quarter moon hanging over Lake Michigan. She drew in her breath again, the muted orange color of the rising moon mesmerizing her. She suddenly saw what had the boy so entranced. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there with her breath billowing out in large white clouds as the moon rose higher, the color settling to a gentle golden hue which just matched the boy’s smooth skin. She’d never really taken the time to notice the moon before-it’s shifting moods, shapes, it’s blemishes.

“Funny I always thought it was smooth,” she found herself saying aloud, surprising herself. Startled, she’d pushed herself from the wall, feeling like she’d made a connection with the nameless boy. She spun to stand in front of the window, certain she’d find him there, but he was gone. Sahara stood there a moment longer, her heart in her stomach. The boy who’d introduced her to the moon unknowingly, was gone. Left in his place was his etching on the glass. She leaned in, trying to make it out but to no avail. As she got closer, her breath obliterated the drawing, causing it to go all white. Disappointed but determined, she leaned closer to see if she could make out the faint outline still almost visible. She was still looking when she saw a counter person inside staring back at her looking concerned. Embarrassed, she pulled away, quickly moving down the sidewalk again, unable to believe she’s gotten so carried away over some random guy staring at the moon. Her bus rolled by and she picked up her pace to a jog, managing to catch it just before the light turned green.

Sahara arrived home, bursting through her door, barely pausing to close it behind her as she rushed to her bedroom. The whole way home she’d thought of the boy in the coffee shop. His wide-eyed innocence, his sweet ethereal beauty as he stared up into the endless night. She’d tried to think of something else as she sat on the bus, her cheeks flushed hot as she thought of him, a strange tingle beginning between her legs. She flung her clothes around the room as she arrived home, her body soon to follow as she threw herself on her bed, reaching in the bedside table drawer for her rabbit. It had become a good friend to her ever since Jonathan, her boyfriend of two years, left her without explanation or warning.

Sliding under the covers, Sahara used the remote to turn on her stereo, letting Maxwell’s soothing voice slide over her as she opened her legs, her hands drifting down her body, caressing her stomach, her hips, then sliding inside her thighs. She opened her legs, switching on the vibrator and letting it shudder against her, the pulsing making her feel giddy as she thought again about the boy in the coffee shop. Never had anyone affected her at first glance like he had. She drew the vibrator back up her body while one hand stayed between her thighs. She thought of his mouth, those lips. The way they would feel against hers. She drew the vibrator lightly across her lips, moaning softly at the thought of his lips touching hers, his tongue tasting hers. She moaned, opening her legs and lightly touching herself. She imagined his mouth, hot from the warmth of their tongues, trailing down to her breasts, tasting each one, covering it completely with that beatutiful mouth, his lips spread wide, their fullness undisturbed by the interruption of the softness between them. The vibrator bounced against her had nipples as she imagine him licking them, sucking on them, enclosing his mouth on them, taking in as much as he could...She groaned louder, slamming a finger into her now sopping wet pussy., slowly moving it in and out to the rhythm of the music surrounding her, opening her legs wider as her finger was replaced by the vibrator. She slowly guided it in, carefully positioning the tickler against her clit.

“Mmm...oh yeah...” she moaned, her hips making small circular motions, sliding the vibrator further in as she imagined him on top of her, his hips moving in unison with hers, pounding away at her as she played with her clit the way the tickler was now doing. The more she thought of him, the faster her hips moved against the humming, droning machine. As she imagined the look on his face while he stared at the moon, she let out a loud cry as she felt herself give way, her stomach tightening and shivering with pleasure as her orgasm ripped through her, quickly followed by another, coating the handle of the vibrator and dripping slowly on her sheets as she lay there, legs wide open, cover kicked onto the floor, completely spent and happy.

She slowly switched the vibrator off, sliding it out and putting it on the bedside table, too spent to wash it off or properly put it away. That was by far the best orgasm she’d ever had. She had to find out more about him, or at least see him again.

Days went by and though Sahara passed the coffee shop several more times, there was no sign of the boy until Wednesday rolled around again. She was walking home from class and wasn’t thinking of him since she’d finally given up, and then there he was. This time, he sat facing her, his face balanced on his left hand, his head cocked at a slight angle as he sat watching the moon wistfully.

Sahara’s footfalls slowed to a stop as she stood transfixed, watching him. He looked like a little kid waiting for Santa Claus. His face looked so sweet and hopeful, like he’d give anything to be up there. She almost wished he could so she could go with him. She wasn’t sure how long she’d stood there watching him before she finally caught herself. Just as she was about to start moving again, he suddenly tore his eyes away from the moon to meet her gaze. They held the gaze for a moment before Sahara looked away, hurrying down the sidewalk again, her cheeks flushed , body on fire from the brief encounter. She couldn’t wait to get hom and hose herself off.

Tim watched the girl hurry off, wishing he had a better view of her as she left. He’d felt her watching him just before he finally looked back at her. He wondered why she’d been staring at him. He knew he must look strange staring at the moon the way he had but he found it so fascinating. That and he’d wanted to get a better look at it. His grandfather used to tell him stories about the “man in the moon,” in this case actually a rabbit. According to Korean custom, the rabbit is upside down. A slight shadow on the moon makes up the form of the rabbit, its ears pointing down, body folded so it appears to be sitting. He tried to remember what his grandfather told him about the rabbit but try as he might, it wouldn’t come to him. Staring at the moon always reminded him of his grandfather, and made him feel closer to him. He also tried to remember the stories so he could repeat them back to him at his bedside.

He turned back to the moon again, trying to bring his grandfather’s stories back again but as he stared at the moon now all he could see was her. She was beautiful-rich brown skin, full well-shaped lips, huge almond eyes, and straight, well-coiffed hair that hung to her shoulders, framing her face in layers.

Her face looked so peaceful as she’d stared at him, and she’d seemed as enraptured with him as he’d been with the moon. He shook this though off. Enraptured with him? He’d almost laughed out loud. There was no way that girl could ever like him. In their quick glance he’d seen her expensive heavy wool coat, leather gloves, and leather boots. He was dressed simply in a flannel shirt and jeans. Appearance weren’t everything he knew, but they seemed to have absolutely nothing in common so what did she see in him? Tim shrugged, turning back ot the moon, deciding it was nothing. He instead focused on his grandfather and remembering a story that would make him feel better.

Later that night Tim sat at his grandfather’s bedside watching as the old man clung to life, his grey hair sparse on his pale freckled scalp. His breathing was loud and ragged, filling the room and shaking Tim to his core. He closed his eyes tightly to try and close himself off from the sound, to try and be anywhere but here. He was so tired from sitting here night after night with little hope. Everyone told him it was hopeless but he couldn’t give up. His grandfather meant everything to him, he had to stay by his side, no matter what happened.

He settled back in the chair with his head hanging over the back, his eyes staring out the window at the moon, now a little more than half full. It was disappearing more and more each day, just like his grandfather. His eyes slid closed as he tried to shut himself off from the pain he felt.

He soon fell into a restless sleep full of dreams. The first was of his grandfather in his prime, cooking with him in the kitchen. His grandfather loved to cook but it had been so long sine he’d been able to stand up fro ten minutes, yet alone enough to cook a whole meal. The scene then shifted to his grandfather and sitting on a rock by Lake Michigan, pointing out the rabbit in the moon.

“The legend goes that the rabbit is hiding in the moon from a king he tricked once. As you can see, his trickery back-fired and now he’s stuck there for all of eternity.”

“So he can’t ever get down?”

“Nope. Never.”

Tim shook his head sleepily but didn’t wake up. His dream slid into another scene. He didn’t know where he was at first, he wandered through what looked like a dense, green forest, yet it was very well lit. The moon above shown down on him, full and complete like his grandfather in the dream, lighting his way as he parted branch after branch, finally coming to a small clearing. The ground was covered in a moist, thick blanket of grass. A mist swirled around his feet and the deep rich scent of pine needles and moss filled his nose, the perfume intoxicating and arousing him.

Once he’d reached the middle of the clearing he stopped, staring at the scene around him wondering what had brought him here. A wavering whispering voice reached him and covered him, warming him like an unexpected sunray.

“What?” was all he could say as he closed his eyes, following the sound of the voice, trying to match its sweet, melodic tones with a face he knew but he came up empty.

“It’s going to be okay,” the voice said. “It’s all okay,” she whispered again, her breath against his cheek. Tim began to start but she stopped him.

“No,” the voice said, it’s reverbations entering him and sending a delicious shock through his body and down to his ever-hardening cock. “Keep your eyes closed. It will all be okay. I’ll take care of you.”

Tim swallowed hard as he felt lips on his, soft and gentle. Hands slid down his arm as he stood prone, so overcome he could barely move. The lips slowly parted his and he felt the moist invasion of a tongue on his lips. He opened his own mouth wider, leaning into the kiss and throwing his inhibitions in as well. He deepened the kiss, pouring every bit of anguish, passion and grief into the kiss. He didn’t know who he was kissing or why but that didn’t matter. What mattered was this feeling of total abandonment. This feeling of full release, of pouring out his feelings into a willing receptacle. Someone to ease his pain and feel more than he, sucking away hi sorrow like water over a fall, crashing into a waiting stream and being carried away.

They fell into the soft plush carpet of the waiting grass, the dew soaking into their clothes and making them cling to their warm perspiring bodies. Time felt his clothes being pulled away urgently. His shirt was town open, pants unbuttoned while a mouth devoured his nipples.

“Mmm....hold on,” he moaned, trying to get up, but he couldn’t.

“No, don’t. Let me please you, don’t fight it, let it go,” the sweet voice enticed him, a hand sliding down to his belt buckle, quickly undoing his pants and opening them. He moaned again, his hips moving to assist the hands pulling his pants down. He licked his lips, no longer caring about opening his eyes. With his eyes closed every sensation was heightened beyond any reality he would have ever though possible. He heard every breath she took, tasted the salt on her lips after they’d tasted his sweaty skin, felt her hands on his penis, so hot he thought she’d give him third degree burns.

He felt her move on top of him, the caress of full soft thighs on his hips as she hovered above him. He groped for and found her hips, grasping them firmly as she positioned the tip of his pulsing cock between the moist folds of her dripping pussy lips. The shock of entering her forced his eyes open and he looked up and saw her-the girl he’d seen watching him outside the coffee shop. She lay above him head and shoulders back, her perky brown breasts pointing up, nipples erect, their dark areolas large and inviting. She moved up and down on him, bracing herself by holding onto his stomach, sliding up slightly to force him hard inside her. Her eyes were closed, her face twisted in ecstasy as she rode him urgently, the force of her thrusts causing their skin to slap together loudly. He watched her for a moment then realizing that she was doing all the work and getting the most pleasure he quickly joined in, grasping her hips and thrusting inside her, pulling her down on him as he lifted his hips up, causing her to groan and fall forward, leaning on him harder as she worked her hips in circles against him. He matched her movements, sliding his hands around to grasp her full ass, gripping it tightly as he ground into her.

Their movements became more and more frantic as they neared their climax. When she finally came she groaned loud, her eyes flying open to meet his, bringing on his own orgasm and slamming him awake.

He sat straight up in the chair, groping the front of his pants. With his grandfather still asleep in his bed Im rushed into the private bathroom, got his pants down and came in the toilet just in time. He shuddered as the orgasm roared through him, splashing into the toilet and splashing him a little but he didn’t care. When he finished he leaned back against the back of the toilet, a little ashamed of what he’d done, but relieved that he had gotten some satisfaction in his life finally.