Although we would have heard the sound of the waves on the beach if we'd really listened, in reality, beyond the walls of our room there was nothing of any concern to us at all. Because for us and our time, outside that room nothing existed. Inside, a pale rectangle of tangled bedding, pillows and scattered, half inside out clothing delineated our world and everything we had was in it.
Behind the window's billowing curtains the sky darkened heavily with the weight of the coming storm. For a while a few stars remained, gleaming fitfully in the gloom before they were swallowed up by the rolling bank of cloud moving inexorably inland from the ocean.
Inside by candlelight we dreamed that we
were in a sunlit green valley with a rippling stream and shady trees
overhanging a pool in which we could swim. And, while the storm built and the
ocean roared we cuddled and kissed, and for a while, did little else but dream.
When the first flashes of lightning lit the room he shivered and wriggled against me rapturously, candlelight dancing wildly in the sudden movement of air.
When the first flashes of lightning lit the room he shivered and wriggled against me rapturously, candlelight dancing wildly in the sudden movement of air.
"There is going to be a thunderstorm!" he whispered breathily, his mouth close to my cheek.
"Are you afraid?" I asked, pushing back the bedclothes with one foot so that I could look at him.
He shook his head, murmured something inconsequential, wriggling and stretching again when I shoved the bundled quilt further down.
His body was so slim and pale it might have been some wondrously carved marble statue with, where candlelight flickered, small shadows slithering and slipping, rippling like spells along the length of it.
"I like 'em" he said softly "'specially when………'specially when I am with you……"
He sighed, moved his arms above his head while shadows emphasised the intricate patterns tattooed on his skin. Gilding the lily did not come into it! His body was beautiful anyway so anything more could only enhance it. Like the gold rings which accentuated his nipples and the soft hair in his armpits which aided and abetted his allure.
As I leaned over him he moved his head and kissed me lightly, tongue tip tickling around the edge of my mouth, trailing honeyed droplets onto my chin. Dancing candlelight lent his body the sinuousness of a small mammal. A chinchilla or otter perhaps, while, close up and in the pale wavering light the peculiarly patterned undulations of his body made him appear extraordinarily, breath catchingly otherworldly.
Time passes at a different rate when we are together, slower and with little ripples and reversals, just as the stream of desire in which we drift wanders between pebbly pools dappled in sunlight and sandy, shallow places which ripple with unspoken desire.
He kissed the side of my nose, traced the shape of my face between eyebrows, found a couple of lines in the skin on my forehead. I breathed in the musk of his body then, as he moved deliciously, a scent so recognisably mine and his mixed together that it was utterly unmistakable.
After a moment his body lay entirely upon me, light as a feather yet weighty with potential and suggestive implications. Then he moved again, drew his thighs up on either side of me and sat, oh so lightly, astride my hips. "Love you love you love you" we told each other breathily, our thought streams manifest in the limpid heat.
He laughed softly, hands moving like quick little insects running together across my chest.
"Mickee oh….Mickee" his fingertips said.
For a split second the room was brilliantly illuminated by a flash of lightning so dazzling it was almost touchable. His fingers found my nipples at the same time as mine found his, our groans drowned by the boom of the thunder as, as one, we began to pinch.
Oh yes, we've several likes and dislikes in common, didn't I tell you? And guess what? Having our nipples pinched is only one of them.
Being thrilled by thunderstorms and the sound of the surf on the beach is another, which is one of the reasons we came to this place anyway, where the Atlantic smashes itself endless against the rocks below our wooden house on stilts. Oh those waves rise so high sometimes that the trailing bedclothes become saturated by the surf which leaves so gently, patterns like necklaces of jewelled sands across the floor.
He squirmed as my nails bit deeper, as I tried to outdo the pain he was inflicting on me. We squirmed together, each as close to agony as we could be without screaming, each dancing along the very sharpest edge without screaming, without screaming or being the first to give in, without screaming or wanting it to stop while at the same time wishing it would, without screaming……
Words were unnecessary then in that blue white Xray light when the lightning flashed. We writhed together, each aware of what the other wanted, each knowing how far we could go to get it and knowing too that we would, in all probability, always go just that little bit further.
The next brilliant flash of lightning came so soon after the first that it might have been an echo, the thunder tremendous, continuous and primeval in it's ferocity. He jerked and writhed on top of me, tumbling like a dead thing so suddenly that I thought for a moment he'd been struck by the bolt which hideously lit our room, except that sweat and kisses continued to stream furiously from him smothering my face and neck, my nose, my ears……...
Distantly the ocean roared, echoing the storms outside and within. We turned together familiarly, hearing nothing but each other's murmured endearments, while the earth moved, or at least our big old four poster did, shaking and quaking in harmony with the thunderous storm and the candlelight's flickering.
How long had it been, I wondered lazily, since we'd made love so rapturously? How long had it been since I'd taken him so readily. Better still when had he last accepted me as easily as this?
"It's going over I think" he whispered after some time, his face close to my ear.
I breathed deeply, savouring his sweat, scenting the freshness of the sea air, tasting semen and saliva again as he kissed me.
"The best ones never last long!" I told him.
"No, I know" he said.
We laughed together, his thighs glued to my thighs, my left arm lost numbly somewhere in the depths of the bed.
"Tides turning too" I told him. "I……I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"Um……well, only a little" he said and kissed me again.
When the thunder rolled again it was much further away, inland behind the forest, smothered by the trees across the ridge. The lightning could not match our candle flame then, nor the song of the surf rival our words of love. Darkness deepened and as the night wore on we meandered together, drifting in warmth and comfort, half asleep contentedly, carefree towards a far distant dawn.
© Aahlu. 2008.
At the Beach House
by
Aahlu
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Fri, 2nd April, 2010
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