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Fragments (standard:other, 779 words) | |||
Author: Vincent Collevera | Added: Apr 09 2010 | Views/Reads: 2740/2 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
2:30 in the morning after too much coffee and not enough sleep. Not sure what I was thinking. | |||
She embraced him, wrapped herself around him tightly to keep him there. She loved how every curve of her body seemed to fit so perfectly along the lines and planes of his lithe, sinewy form like two pieces of the same puzzle slipping into place. The feel of him, so warm and alive against her was like a sensation of wholeness she couldn't begin to describe. It was like some part of her soul, her body, her mind had been missing up until now and that part was him. The smell of him, a subtle but insistent musk, was like the smell of wet earth after a rain, or the smell of old quilts kept in a cedar chest for decades. He smelled like home and felt like the memory of her favorite teddy bear from her early childhood. His kisses started soft, gently brushing across the surface of her lips, her neck, her shoulder. The fire started as a low smolder, building with each contact between his lips and her skin. His hands were always so tender when he touched her ; like he would break her unless he was very careful. His mouth became insistent, bringing the heat from within her to a feverish pitch and making her passion burn until it almost hurt. When he entered her, it was like she had just risen to the surface of the water and taken in the first breath of her new life. He filled her so completely, heart pounding and sweat dripping as they steadily rocked back and forth on the quickly sodden sheets. His moans were cries that answered questions she didn't know she'd asked, confirmation she only knew now that she'd been seeking. She felt him so deeply inside her that he pierced her soul, as though their coupling were a sacred union that even God could not deny. Their simultaneous climax arrived with a sudden clenching of muscles, desperately clinging to each other as salvation came for them to wash them along on waves of ecstasy so intense they threatened to burn them to ashes with the heat. She opened pale brown eyes to the slanting rays of early morning sun intruding on the sanctity of her bedroom. Beside her, the still-damp sheets were strewn about and disheveled. And empty. She reached out, clawing across the fabric as though he could be hidden beneath the rumpled surface. The silence of her apartment was absolute as she lay there sprawled and reaching across the bed like a discarded toy that was dropped when it broke. Denying the tears that welled in those pain-filled eyes, she dragged herself out of bed and pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a tank top to cover her nakedness, heading towards the kitchenette through the haze of tears. The overhead light in her living room was transformed into a starburst beneath which she passed with leaden feet, still unwilling to allow the salty proof of her pain to exist beyond her eyes. Half a pot of coffee steamed silently in the machine on her counter, the import unable to reach her through the hurt and the film of sleep that still covered her thoughts. He watched her pour a cup from his vantage near the door, confused and afraid of this place in which he'd found himself. The past few months were a blur in his memory, one thing fading and smearing into another with only one thing, one person standing out from the background with searing clarity. Her face was light at the end of a long dark tunnel, guiding him to salvation. Her body had been a benediction, feeding him with something he'd never realized he'd hungered for. She was a balm to his singed heart, stitching the fragmented portions of his damaged mind back together over the last three days. She was the strength he had to stand, the breath in his lungs and the pulse beating strongly in his chest. For so long he'd been in a world of murky shadows and twisted thoughts that he was afraid of the light she shed on him. In silence, he stood and watched her. In silence did he fear the revelations she had given him about the nature and power of a human soul. Never before could he remember a time when the walls stayed still in his sight and the light illuminated his surroundings with such perfect resolution. All the broken shards of his psyche were mending under the ministrations of her hands, her body. He was finally waking up from a long nightmare, and the real world scared him more than the darkness ever had. Tweet
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Vincent Collevera has 11 active stories on this site. Profile for Vincent Collevera, incl. all stories Email: vincentcollevera@yahoo.com |