Was it there really? when these two bodies finally met.. I was withdrawned a bit warry after my body hurt and my soul bold but bullied by the past; maybe a bird not a player, just a sitting doll on the bed. But he had started to kiss me. I had started to feel his breath ..then, hugging the width of his shoulders, where the hundreds of words we had exchanged beforehand lingered, starting to chase awat the remains of a dream, of a previous lover whose shoulder laid there that was still between us...
there I thought helplessly, I had tried to mourn this little mourn for this little whimper...I could not. Would he come in order to comfort me, too, from these world aparts, this never ending embrace...the tragedy of unlove, the pursuit of endless love through the naught of night really....But like a phoenix standing from its ashes, a love story is a story of love and this man would take the lead and lead away, as I took to my feet, determinate, to walk again....
I had wanted to wait for the night but he would not. he had wanted me far before. I know the power that can lay in the embrace of a world with merely words, growing with emotions, sensations one put there in this useless endeavour to capture the essence of the other... I had known that that rare power I had at my hand, but in his hand, I had to become his, and yet, the touch down was not going to occur, only if he was persceptive enough, he would carry me into the cradle of his palms, one near the other...
there is this immense field which has been almost unploughed. It lays there for years. sometimes, a passersby or two and they go on it; take a few step in the earth almost cracking as it is dry..and do it a favour : they piss on it... and then, they just go.
it is called the desert where the rain never falls from the beginning of times. it was born naked. a few rags are covering its willowing trees, on branches, by the dust only kissed.
sun burns it from beneath. it is waiting for the cool rain of tears. these will be chilly as dew, as a morning rises, waiting for a new one coming by. will it come ?
and then, a moment before dawn, his wisper chased away the one before him, another gost as dense as a leaf...all is passage in this world..He, was de passage too... I had promised myself that I would not be counting the hours left....
His hand hovered softly over my breast. at the touch of his palm, my nipples went hard and like a little beggar, the back bone of my crouch went after the touch of his finger, wanting more, asking for me, caress, oh caress...
after a few seconds he had touched me in silence, his other arm went around my body and took me in an embrace he had guessed, long ago, that amounted to take me prisoner to his grip " you like to be hugged like that mm little kitten..;" he said... I just answered by getting closer to him as if every inch of my skin had to catch his male scent, the hair on his chest, the muscles of his arms, his shoulder, his height and finally, his cock, handsomesly, exactly right in me.
there, in the dawn of Paris, calm morning on its roofs, this cock was penetrating deep, seeding me with his sperm, taking its rythm, stiff as can be the desire of a man for a woman.
I moaned I cried, I whimpered, I begged, I begged for me and then, just before I had the time to become lioness, he withdrew and whispered to my ear, softly : "shhhhhhhhh"
then we fell asleep again...arms locked one around the other....