I feel your breath in my ear and my body moves instantly to discover you. Your heat moist upon my aching skin and your energy radiating yet in my ear. Allowing my body to slide swiftly from this resolute chair, I move forward down darkened passage ways swimming on your scent alone. That warm mingling of vanilla and sweet cherries electrifies my skin causing friction—a movement—- from deep within up to my heart and back again. I see a flash of your auburn hair as you pass, smiling to yourself around a lone corner towards a dead end. I move quicker knowing that I finally have you. Yet, as my shoulder brushes that same corner I find a side table and chair idly standing still there. No sign of your smile; your scent no longer filling the air.
My body sags with a depressive tone. Do you know how long I’ve awaited you? How I’ve watch many a moon pass by under my lonely view? I drearily draw my body back to my desk and to the task at hand; the masterpiece that has been slipping from me night after night. How do you articulate into form that which one has only glimpsed but not truly seen? How do you contain a sparked passion within only a few lines? This was my complication yet I grasp my pen to begin again. Stroke by stroke shape takes from in front of my eyes. A slight curved line here and a gentle but sharp one there.
And then I feel you again but I dare not raise my eyes in fear that you’d only disappear.
As my pen moves I feel you stronger with a presence more real than I’ve felt before. I find your face talking shape with depth I fear I’ve only imagined and as the last stoke arches across giving way to my name, it is only then that I allow myself to gaze into your eyes. A deep creamy brown reflects back as the silkiness of your hair frames the beauty of your smile. Instantly I am hypnotized. I see you move and I feel myself follow with not one thought in my head but, “Yes.”. Does it bother me that you’ve not said a word or that fact that in some way I realize you may not really real?
I follow on ahead past brittled plants and old chapped plastered walls. Down misty stairways and dusty halls. At last coming to a red door in this monotone setting and gently open it to find an explosion of color surrounding me. Silky red curtains and plush golden sittings take up my view as well as a mirror longer than four of my own bodies encompassing an ornate and deeply emphasized section of the wall. As for the other wall, a bed appears to have an occupant to my great surprise. I watch as you move closer urging me onward till my knees are right at the edge. It is then everything comes around. I watch in amazement as you walk around to the other side and slowly lower yourself back into your body. I see your skin flush and fill with your color and with your own energy.
My feet planted to the floor yet and somewhere my body understands. My mind accepting and my heart still yearning. In an instant I find myself standing solidly staring back into my own eyes from in front of this overwhelming mirror. Your form behind me. Before I can begin to comprehend the sudden lapse in time and space, I feel your hand on my side, cooing me and creating calm. I look back at your reflection in the mirror and am stunned by your beauty that glows brightly from within. A warm sigh escapes my lips as your body moves against mine. I feel your pulse strong against my back side as tears begin to brim over from my eyes. You pull me closer still. I feel your lips at the back of my neck and my eyes concede to closing. When I open them I find myself on my back sinking into the bed but it is you that I do not see.
Yet just as quickly as my body moves to rise, it is your voice I hear in my ear. Even through words aren’t uttered the vibration alone thrills me sending my body into gentle convulsions. I feel your hands urge my eyes closed and as I do so I instantly feel you upon me. With my hands glued to my side, I feel you everywhere as my body hardens and swells for your touch. At first upon my breasts taking both within your grasp and enveloping them within your lips. Then dripping your touch down my body biting my sides till you have me convulsing at the slighted blow on that skin. Spreading me as you allow yourself to fill me; your tongue sliding up and down my clit. Taking it within your teeth as your tongue flicks at the tip. I am all sensation now swimming in your immaculate touch; my wetness spilling out from within. Then I feel you move sooner than I can plead, “more” and you are everywhere all at once. I feel you at the base of my foot taking hold and riding up my legs. I feel the pressure of you striking every hair that is standing on end. I feel you as if you were melting right into me. Your smoothness licking every bit of my skin and my moans are escapable freeing themselves at once as my body shudders bellow you.
I hear you from with inside of me urging me, pleading me, needing me to let go; to release and scream out in passion. You play pictures on the inside of my eyelids for me to see enhancing my already overloading senses. I watch as you spread yourself wide for me with your hand at your clit waiting for me to delve in to your wetness. You laid flat on your stomach with your ass lightly reaching for the air wanting to feel me against your backside. You screaming out as my fingers fill you, fisting you as an orgasm run waves over your shuddering body. This last image finishes me and I hold on to it as my own orgasm breaks forth with sounds of ecstasy. I lie panting as I open my eyes and see not a form but energy moving all around me. I watch as it moves to my right and back where it calls home. With a gasp your eyes open to mine and a smile lights up your face. I reach over this time initiating a new touch and pull you toward me wrapping you in my arms. All the questions I have instantly fly from my mind as your body turns and curves into mine. I breathe in your scent as my eyes close on the encroaching dawn.
When I awaken I find myself at a desk laying face down on my incomplete scribbles called work. For a moment I wonder if it was a mad trick played on my mind or if she might have been real. It’s then that I see, on the edge of my paper, a name in unfamiliar writing bellow my own.
Sara Walkins
It’s then that I hear the wind moving down the hallways and a curtain playfully flapping in the breeze against the tired brick walls. The warm scent of vanilla and sweet cherries fills the room and I rise abandoning my ‘masterpiece’ and on to live it instead.
