Stains of Blue

His house was exactly how I had imagined it, though the word 'house' seemed barely appropriate for the huge mansion, surrounded by a flourishing green garden I stood in front of. I had dismissed the driver, who had gotten me from the airport, and now trying to regain my composure, I stood there on my own, brushing some folds out of my knee-long black skirt and white blouse.
I couldn't make myself move, couldn't do one more step towards that door, where He would wait for me. He, the man I had been dreaming, lusting, fantasising about for the last two years, for real, in blood and flesh. I had not believed it when I had received his letter, and neither did I now.
"Kane Press" I could read in the header, next to the so significant red K on white ground. And signed it had been by Him.

"Miss Ashwin?" a loud voice ripped me out of my reverie and I spun around, there He stood, about a hundred feel away from me, faded jeans, torn and colour stained, bare feet and a quite simple clean, white shirt. I swallowed again, tried to stop my head from spinning, but finally walked towards Him, very well aware of the deep red colour my cheek had applied.
"Yap, that's me!" I said lowly when I reached Him and took the hand He offered me.
"I'm Paul, a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Miss Ashwin!" He murmured not louder, but the sensual hoarse quality made me shake to my very core and I could barely hold back the whimper His very vocal chords seemed to elicit from my throat.
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, and... and please call me Iris!" I breathed, not able yet to let go of His hand, which still held mine. What had I just said? I couldn't remember, I just hoped it hadn't been what I was thinking at the very moment, Please fuck me until I forget my name.

His smile was open and honest, very warm and determined. "I would love to." He said slowly, and I blushed deeper, did I hallucinated the sensual quality?
"If you call me Paul in return. Please come in!" He continued, a bit louder then before and gestured me into the house. "Straight down the corridor!"

Slowly I walked past the walls, closely hung with art of all kinds framed or unframed, expensive pieces next to something completely unrecognizable ones; huge heaps of papers and paper boxes stood in the corners, and I couldn't take my eyes of all these beautiful proves of His artistry.
He chuckled behind me.
"Please excuse the mess, you won't believe it, Iris, but I am actually quite tidy. I just can't seem to be able to combine art and order."
I smiled and turned around to Him, feeling my heart flutter from the way He pronounced my name.
I chuckled politely in return, unable to say anything that would be worth passing my lips, of course I had to say something anyway. "Oh that's ok..." I mumbled finally, "You should see my place, and I'm not even a real artist!"

Not a real artist, that was a nice description for what I am, not really anything would be perfect. A bit of a writer, a bit of a photographer, a bit of a painter, a bit of a student, a bit of a woman, a bit of a girl - a bit of everything, a bit of nothing, too less to matter and too much to ignore.
That's why I was there anyway, after a bet with my best friend, whom I owed 50 bucks then, and a dedication in my book, I had sent some of my poetry, short prose, drawings and photographs to several publishers. No one had answered, and in a way it felt like a relieve, that I could let go of my obsession with art, could stop dreaming and start concentrating on what my parents would call a decent profession.
But it all turns out different, and especially then I had planned.
It was almost a year later when my mailbox contained a quite usual looking small letter - an invitation.
And there I was on my best way to make a fool of myself, where I originally was supposed to convince Paul Kane why my work is worth printing.

He chose to ignore my comment, probably because He stood above my pathetic, but - I promise - unintended, fishing for compliments.
"I prefer to have my business conversations in a relaxed atmosphere, is that alright with you?" He asked again, still behind me, I turned around and smiled relieved, that was indeed an idea to my liking.
"Sure!" I replied simply and even managed to elicit a small, softly amused smile from His lips.
"Good, then you can just..." He paused for a second and opened the door next to me, "wait here for me and I get us something to drink!"
He had vanished behind another door before I could react, so I did as He had suggested and a moment later I stood in a rather large room that didn't seem to fit at all into the dreamy poet picture I had of Him: A large pool table, a huge stereo, some comfy looking couches and a bar.

.:*:.

I had just sat down on one of the sofas when Paul returned, with a bottle of wine, he smiled at me encouraging and got two beautifully shaped glasses out of a cupboard over the bar.

"Do you mind to set up the balls?" He asked casually while almost gently pouring some of the Bordeaux coloured liquid into the glasses. I nodded, got up and fetched the colourful balls out of the device in the table.

"You know how to play, don't you?" handing me one of the glasses, he asked and I smiled flushing at the intensity His stare contained.

"Kind of..." I mumbled, tried to look away, but couldn't.

"That will be enough... now, what shall we drink to?" He asked, but answered Himself without waiting for an answer, "Ah, I know - To your work, which aroused my interest in the most charming way."

I flushed even more, when we the glasses to each other and the high pinched clink resonated in the room, His intense blue eyes were still locked with mine and I still tried to understand what he meant by His comment, for some reason it sounded unlike the usual compliment I have heard so far. But then again, it might be just my imagination, or wishful thinking, because I still seemed stripped off every rational, observing thought, felt like floating from cloud to cloud into the heights of heaven, or the depth of hell - I couldn't say.

He had put his glass onto a small table next to one of the sofas and gestured me to do the same while He offered me one of the shorter cues. I took it smiling and gave him my glass in return, which he put next to his onto the table.

"Go ahead..." He suggested lowly and, suppressing the tremor my body seemed to give into, I made my way to the opposite side of the large, green pool table, bent over and set the cue in position, softly running it over the back of my hand, securely set between two knuckles.

But at the moment I wanted to hit the white ball, I looked over to Paul for a last reassuring glance, and suddenly got aware of His eyes, that lingered on my form. I trembled again, now extremely self-conscious about my ass, onto which this position provided a clear view, and also my breasts which almost seemed to fall out of my neckline – consequently the white ball went straight into one of the holes.

Paul grinned, suppressing a chuckle, while I got up quickly and tried to pull down my skirt and fiddle with my blouse, my face must have applied a colour very much like the delicious red wine we had tasted earlier.

"Well... uhh... your turn!" I muttered, and took a few more deep sips of wine, avoiding His eyes.

Again His low, characteristic chuckle met my ears, "No, no, come'ere!" He murmured, taking my hand.

He had set the white ball back onto its original spot and softly nudged me into the right position bending as well, next to me.

"See, like this," He insisted, even lower now that He was so close. I could feel the warmth his body radiated and exhaled a shaky breath.

He pushed the cue slowly back and forth in the slight gap between his thumb and index-finger, "Take it slowly, softly... built up force and then push - easy... Now try it again!"

Now I was happy to literally lean onto the table, because my knees shook so hard that I doubted they would be able to carry me, slowly I imitated his position, the long shaft ran over my skin, unable to stop imagines to flood my mind.

"Now, slowly, focus... yes, that's it... and now push!"

I did it, and the colourful balls splattered all across the table, I sighed relived and regained a standing position, Paul smiled at me. "Very good!"

He walked around the table a much longer, much thicker cue in his hand, if anything his slow strides resembled the movements of a cat, a big jungle cat, a tiger maybe - slow sensual, so flowing and radiating this incredible essence of strength and natural power.

When over again I couldn't stop myself from letting my eyes travel over his incredibly well toned body, the curve of His neck, His spine, very visible through the thin fabric of his shirt, the soft hardness of His backside... the sound of colliding balls tore me out of my reverie and I turned my eyes back to the table early enough to witness two of the full coloured balls rolling straight into two holes.

"Wow..." I breathed smiling insecure, but He didn't seem to react to my eloquent compliment.

"Do you know what fascinated me about your work?" He suddenly changed topic, and took a sip of wine. I shook my head, it was true I had indeed no idea why of all applications He would choose mine for His limited annual resources.

"On the surface" He started slowly, aiming for another ball, "they cover themes as love, nature, faith... but every single piece: poetry, photography, prose, painting..." each of these four words had been emphasised by a soft push of the cue over his hand, "... contains the distinct atmosphere of... sex!"

The while ball hit a blue one at the moment He had uttered the last word, and for a second I wondered if I had heard Him correctly, but there no doubt about it anymore when He spoke again.

"I wanted to meet the woman, able to create such a natural sensuality seemingly without the slightest effort."

.:*:.

I couldn't move, could not utter a word or even breathe, when His eyes locked with mine. Somewhere deep below the surface my heart wanted to explode with joy and pride, He had seen it, He knew, He had discovered what non of my friends had - He knew what I wrote about, or at least He felt it - I could sense it, sense that He had invited me because deep down in His heart He knew that every syllable was written about Him.

But on the surface I was stunned, frozen, petrified - His tender grey eyes were way to intense, fixed on mine with this tender, hungry expression that left me breathless.

Suddenly a smile curled His lips, and though my inside seemed to melt in a puddle of adoration the spell was broken that seemed to have bound our eyes to each other, glued fixed and completely devoted to Him.

"Your turn!" He breathed still smiling and nodded over to the pool table. For a second I wasn't sure what to do, but I managed to regain my composure and nodded quickly, gulping for air.

The cue, what surprised me, was still in my hand when I got up and aimed for the table, the white ball lay in a quite convenient position, that should make it easy to score, but I hands trembled and aware of his gaze on my shape I quickly shot - over an inch too far left.

Blushing even deeper I backed off the table, again He smiled knowingly then took His cue by slowly running his slightly rough but so very alluring hand over its length.

"I didn't expect her though..." with an impressive move, that vaguely reminded me of a skilled knight yielding his sword, He brought the cue from the floor into a horizontal position over the table and aimed at the white ball again, "To be a young, coy girl..."

I shook now visibly. A coy girl?! Well, He was right of course, what else would I be... but there was more to me, much more! And I felt like He was making fun of me, showing me what I could never have, being who I was, talking like I did, blushing and stammering. I was getting more and more insecure during the conversation and got the impression that He seemed to deliberately manipulate me, dragging me into His space, controlling every thought, every move, every breath with His eyes.

And yet I was more desperate then ever before in my life - desperate for something I never felt, but always wanted, thinking of Him - something explosive, something that could shatter all my insecurities into the wind, something to make me feel again, feel like a natural woman. And it felt like only He could give me... of all men there are, only He could make me feel alive, could satisfy what I was longing for so deep down in my soul.

"It didn't make sense to me at first..." He murmured, but loud enough to make sure I could hear every single word, the ball had missed the hole, I suspected He had done it deliberately but I was too overwhelmed to delve deeper into the thought, and He gestured me to go on, "...But I think I know now!"

I trembled, my breathes were mere gulps for air and my knees seemed to consist of that awful red jelly my brother used to love, but I made my way to the table, bent over again to aim, amd suddenly I froze - something warm pressed behind my backside not to hard, but locking me between the table and the source of warmth.

Hands added the exquisite feeling, first lying on my hips and then roaming freely over my back, almost as if holding me down, preventing me from getting up again.

'Don't stop... Oh please don't stop!' my heart yelled at the top of it's lungs, filling me completely with need for this man, this warmth, this dream I never dared to think could be reality. But outside I was shaking, with fear, with need, with shock, panic, love, confusion, hope, overwhelmingly surprise and desperate passion all at the same time, washing over me like torrents of inevitable emotion.

"Shhh..." He breathed tenderly at my ear, now bending over me, filling me, covering me with His heat, His radiance of power and most alluring dominance. "I won't do anything you don't want me to... I promise... but you want to - am I right?" His warms were wrapped around my torso, stopping me from shaking, giving me strength to calm, to believe in Him, in me, in this... giving me the strength to submit to His radiance and nodded.

"Because deep down inside you long for something you can't explain, deep in your very core you need to feel this, you need someone to break your defences, who knows how to shatter the façade that you erected to delude yourself and your surrounding, not to let them see your boundless sensuality, but you can show - you don't have to hide what you feel, not from me, not from you, not from anybody..."

His hands started to roam over my stomach, very lightly brushing my breast, my erect nipples, trembling chest and quivering neck, I felt his lips in the back of my neck, His nose brushing away my hair, His breath on my warm skin, and very slowly I got aware of something new, something hard against my back and my heart fluttered in nervous excitement and a hint of pride.

"Do you want me to set you free, little one? Do you want me to make you feel like you always longed to feel - like the woman you are deep inside you, the woman you never felt, just dared to show in your art, deluded and well hidden - but not good enough for me... tell me that you want me to make love to you, little one!"

I couldn't breath, I couldn't move, couldn't grasp how He could know me so well. Take one look at me and know everything, more even then I did myself and more then most people would ever know, how could He see, how feel what I needed so desperately?

But my stomach felt clenched, my vocal chords of no use, no sound would pass my lips, but desperately from the bottom of my heart and my tingling loins I wanted Him to know, I wanted to tell Him how much I wanted Him, needed Him, desperately knew how much I loved him. I nodded finally unsatisfied with myself.

"Tell me, love, please tell me what you want, what you need?" He growled softly, kissing my ear, I felt His warm breath, the soft lips, His gently tickling facial hair.

And suddenly I could do it... as if my heart screamed and not my voice and very softly and hoarsely I breathed: "Please make love to me Paul, please love me until I forget my name..."

.:*:.

I shivered in embarrassment about the confession I had just made, but Paul didn't seem to mind - quite the contrary, He growled affectionately into my ear, the low rumble of hot breath that tickled His vocal chords and completed the exquisite touch of His facial hair on my neck.

"Oh love, I will be more then happy to oblige!" He breathed then and I responded with a low whimper, which I couldn't have held back.

"Was that your 'thank you', baby doll?" He added then, grinning mischievously, slowly got up and turned me around so that I faced Him, His steel grey eyes sparkled with hunger and boyish amusement, "Don't worry, no need to thank me... it's... my pleasure !"

I couldn't believe the change in His behaviour...it was so sudden! Yet so fresh and sexy... alluring. Obviously a role He enjoyed playing. The realization encouraged a grin to spread across my features. As if He would imitate my mimics His face changed as well, drawing into a beautiful grimace of suppressed laughter, but then like rain onto a desert we broke out into silver laughter only moments later, just giggling madly to ourselves, His deep thunder chuckle, and my hysterical, high pinched snicker.

I clung to Him, as if He was my life line to save my madly shaken body, wrapped up in the storm of laughter on the rough see. His strong arms held me steady though He trembled as well within his well toned chest, I felt so close to Him, so secure in his arms, wrapped in His warmth and gentle guidance, all my defences scattered into the storm wind, and without all that, the walls the facades, I felt naked in his arms - but I didn't feel insecure anymore, I didn't feel cold or ashamed, all I felt was good.

And then when the laughter slowly ceased, it slipped out, like the most natural consequence.

"I love you..." I breathed incredulous, and met His eyes, "I just love you..."

His features softened immediately, but at the same moment I knew I had spoiled it.

For a while He just looked at me, the gentlest glimmer in His eyes. Insecure of his action, of his path to approach me, as if I had stopped Him in His usual tracks, making Him stumble, almost fall.

But after what seemed like an eternity, He raised one hand from my hip and while the other still held me close He softly brushed a strand of my hair out of my face and then gently started caressing my cheeks. His softly calloused hands felt like velvet on my skin, sending a million kilovolt of electricity into my nervous system.

But before I could respond, before I could break out of the spell His hands had worked upon me and kiss His fingers, lean into His touch, He stopped carefully grabbing my chin and making me look up to Him, deep into His beautiful eyes. His brows were slightly raised, even softening His expression, and then He started to speak.

"I can not promise you the world, Iris." He breathed, low and rough in His gentle way, "I can not promise you eternity, and I can not promise you love. It is something I gave up on long ago, my love is my art now and it will always be that way..."

I was sure that I was hallucinating, but that gentle glimmer in His eyes, these beautiful sparkles that made me love him so much more every second He held my gaze steady - they couldn't be tears, they couldn't... I was hallucinating.

"All I can promise you Iris, is this moment, is tonight. We've got tonight, tonight I love you, with every fibre of my body and every wisp of my soul, but I can't promise you tomorrow."

His hand started running down up and down in the small of back, His lip quivered, but His gaze kept steady, locked on mine - and I knew that there were tears forming in the forsaken corners of my eyes, I couldn't stop them, couldn't control any fibre of my trembling body.

"I would understand if that is not enough for you, little one, but I all I have to give..."

I interrupted Him, I couldn't bear if He continued. Just needed Him close again, I wanted the sexy Paul back. The guiding one, the Paul who made me mad with need and love for Him. I wrapped my arms around His chest burying my face in His shirt, smelling His scent. I kissing His skin through the fabric, His well toned, only slightly haired skin under my lips - and then I realized that I didn't want a part of Him, not the sexy part, not the macho part, not the artist part - I wanted all of Him, all at once, but I knew it was too much to ask for.

I felt His chest quiver from the softest moan He exhaled, and His hand started caressing my back again. I felt trapped between Him and the pool-table once more, just as in the time He approached me from the front. I sighed longingly, there was no way back, whatever His conditions were, I could never walk out now, and I knew I would accept them, whatever they were, I suddenly realized I would accept anything - just to be with Him.

"Do you want to stay?" He breathed then, while he softly nibbled at my ear, "Do you want to accept what I offer you, even though we both know it is less then you deserve?"

And there I realized the miracle that happened, the miracle He worked upon me - suddenly I wasn't shy anymore, I knew what I wanted. I knew what I needed and for the first time in my life - I knew how express it... and I could.

"I will, I would always, to every condition..." I whispered, "And consider myself the luckiest girl in the world... don't you know that yet, Paul? I don't care what I deserve, I don't know about it - I just now what I need... and you know that too, you already told me...

.:*:.

He just smiled in response, a warm one, true, and shining with an intensity that I never knew I had missed - but now found heaven in. But it didn't stay long, and something replaced it, less heavenly but not less approved. I found that twinkle returning, this hungry glimmer, the cheeky note in the corner of His lips - and yet I couldn't tell what had changed.

His touch became more intense, became closer, harder and I - I became a blank sheet of canvas beneath His skilful hands.

One moment His hands caressed my waist, and in the next He lifted me up onto the table, and spread my thighs wide enough to squeeze between them, pressing Himself close to me, while I wrapped them around His waist. I felt some pool balls giving way, when He shifted me gently, and I felt something else - a larger bulge rubbing my crotch.

I whimpered, exhaling a shaky breath, while He moved His hands to my face, caressing it passionately, kissed my lips, my nose, my closed eye-lids, held me steady - completely letting me lean into His hands, letting go into His arms.

"I'll teach you how to fly..." He breathed and then I felt how His hands slowly started to let go, didn't hold me close anymore but moved backwards. Immediately I stiffened, but His gentle whisper was at my ear again before I even realized what was happening.

"Let go, love... trust me... just follow my lead..." He breathed, and when His warm breath ticked my auricle, my muscles relaxed and allowed Him to shift my position slowly into a lying one, quickly pushing aside the balls, and then gently letting me sink onto the table.

My eyes snapped open for a moment, seeking reassurance, seeking something in His eyes to soothe the suddenly rising panic - it was going to happen, now, here - but it was so good, more then I ever dreamed of, and nothing else His eyes promised me.

I closed my eyes again when I saw Him standing above me and let His hand slowly run down my neck and past my breast, over the rim of my blouse and downwards over the fabric that covered my navel.

"You are so beautiful..." He breathed as He bent over and a blush bepainted my cheeks, "I can't believe you don't know how you beautiful you are..."

I whimpered when His lips touched my neck again and agonizingly slow made their way town my décolleté, licking, kissing, probing, tasting every inch of my skin He unfolded by opening the buttons of my blouse - I shivered, but I wasn't cold.

A suppressed giggle turned into a loud moan when His tongue dipped into my navel, while His hands softly brushed my erect nipples through the velvet embroidery of my bra.

"Paul..." I whimpered in agony, desperately needing something I couldn't tell, something I couldn't name or put a finger on, just the keenest, most violent primal need that I never had been lucky enough to feel - until now.

"I'm right here, little one, I'm right here..." I heard His response thick with his own growing desire, thick with the promise He lay in every syllable. I raised one hand, needed to feel Him, touch Him, needed to prove myself that this was no dream, that this was more, that this was reality - the one value in life I had never been able to rate so high.

Slowly I palpated the white fabric upon His lower abdomen until I found the rim of His shirt und my hand could linger, where I had dreamed of for so long. His skin was soft, warm and yet strong, tiny hairs erected when my hand brushed over them, and I heard Him exhale a long sigh.

He helped me opening the buttons of His shirt so that I could reach His chest when He bent over me again, could feel His heart beat against my hand, and His lungs rise and fall with each breath He took, could feel the tight muscle that shifted and flexed with every move He did.

His lips were tracing my jaw-line, when one hand came up behind my neck again and slowly pulled me up to Him, to grant the other hand better access to the breech of my bra and lips better access to mine. It was only now that I realized we hadn't shared a kiss yet, only now that I realized what I had been missing.

He started by pecking my lower lip softly with His, then ran the tip of His nose slowly over them, pecked them again and finally used His tongue to plea for access, which I granted only too willingly. But I'd had no idea what I would take me into, when His lips sealed mine, and His tongue started it's slow, sensual exploration of my mouth, my gums, tongue, lips, teeth - there was no inch He didn't seem to touch, didn't seem to be interested in getting to know.

And I? I felt like He would keep His promise, like I was already flying, high above the clouds and the sun shone onto our skin. I knew I moaned into His mouth, I knew His kiss alone made me flinch and shift with this hidden flame that He had ignited, I didn't even know I had lost my bra, until He started pinching my nipples ever so softly, massaging them carefully but determined, seemingly never deflecting His attention from our kiss, from the sensual, erotic dance of our tongues and the hot and humid love He made to my lips.

I whimpered disappointed when His lips left mine and the chilly breath that went over the swollen, pulsating and still slightly wet flesh spoke a clear language of His absence. But His finger replaced His lips, caressing mine, while His tongue replaced His fingers, probing, tasting, cupping my nipple. At first I just felt warmth wrapping around my sensitive buds, the slight moisture added, but when His tongue started swirling around, when His lips started sucking hungrily and His other hand kept massaging my other breast I was lost, was helpless beneath His hands, which left their eternal track their marks on me, invisible but burning on my skin - I was a piece of canvas beneath His skilful hands, bepainted with the paradise colours of His passion.

.:*:.

I am not sure at what point I lost control over my own body and became the twisting, drooling, moaning, screaming mess beneath His hands, but He seemed to enjoy it a lot, driving me into higher and higher heavens of passion, His own hums, sighs, moans and chuckles even, always a drowning anchor to cling to.
His lips were still glued to my nipple, teasing it, sucking it gently, nibbling it not too careful, just as hard to set me to the edge of pain, but far enough away from it that all I could was groan for more.
But I had no idea - no idea of what was yet to come, already expecting that He would change me forever.
A shiver ran over my skin when His lips left my breasts by running His tongue along the underside and along my stomach. Again His tongue dipped into my navel, but this time my rising giggle was muffled by the gasp He elicited by slowly running His hands up my outer thighs, brushing up my skirt until it lay in folds on my abdomen.
And then everything proceeded quicker then I can recall, before I knew what happened He had gotten rid of my tights and panties and manoeuvred my knees onto His broad shoulders.

"Oh God!" His lips touched my delta of Venus, kissed His way down to my folds, that already were treated by His fingers, which slowly spread my lower lips, graced them, encircled them sensually. I needed Him, I didn't know what else to think, anything else was drawn away from my mind, gone without a trace and need filled me, passion and lust - or that was what I had made myself believe.
I lost my mind when His tongue dipped into my cleft, massaged my pulsating bud, sucked it, hummed against it, drove me to the edge of my sanity.
I don't know how often I moaned His name, or how long I moaned, tossed and turned, writhed under His hands, His lips and skin. I don't know long He teased, tortured me with the sweet torment of His tongue, withdrawing here and there, prolonging His treatment and my endurance, I wanted to scream, beg Him to stop and make an end at the same time, but I couldn't, not for the sake of my sanity and when He finally raised his voice again, "Come, baby! Come now!" my body could do nothing else other then obey, in endless spasms, the mighty orgasm He had worked upon me.

Darkness encircled me, foggy numb night, while I lay on the table panting, unable to move unable even to bend a muscle. But before it could take me, slip me, push me into unconsciousness I felt His warms arms around me, felt being lifted up into the air, and while my had lay on His shoulder, my eyes closed just inhaling His scent as vital air.
I wasn't aware of where He carried me, but constantly He whispered sweet, gentle nothings into my ear, kissed my sweat-covered forehead, fed His greedy ears from my constant pants and whimpers.
I hazily noticed how He lay me down on a silk covered bed, it was soothingly cool and soft to the touch. He removed the rest of my skirt and vanished for a few moments, just to return next to my face, and pulled my head gently onto His lap. I felt a soft, cooling wet towel on my forehead, and face. Gently He cleaned me, taking His time, wiping away sweat, tears and saliva from my still slightly numbed features.

"Are you alright?" He asked lowly, and when my eyes slowly fluttered open I saw that He had sought that contact. I nodded, softly smiling up to Him. I felt new strength running through my veins, cooling my boiling blood, and I didn't know if it was His eyes which achieved that effect or His angelic treatment on my face.

"You quite wore me out, I believe..." I breathed blushing and then chuckled soundlessly. Paul grinned, obviously please with my answer, and quite gently amused.
"You asked for it, little one!" He smirked softly and then kissed my forehead again, I felt His facial hair brush my skin, felt His soft lips upon me, overwhelmed again by his mere presence, and I felt that I wasn't quite that worn out as I thought. I chuckled again and grinned up to Him.
"I didn't know what I asked for when you made me ask for it!" I protested smiling, twinkling into His eyes and let my hand idly and softly caress His arm that He had placed next to my head for prop.

He chuckled and His fingers started to fondle my cheeks, "Shall I take it as discontentment then, little one?" He asked slipping into character, and then barely more then a hummed whisper: "Because I did enjoy your pleasure, how you moaned and screamed, how you unleashed your lust, uncovered your passion and perished your shame..."

A new shiver ran down my spine and I remembered how His use of words had uprooted me before, remembered what I had been before I stepped into His life and I felt inside of me, tried to discover what had changed, I would not be able to put a hand it, but I felt different, I felt better - I felt home, I felt save and though I felt it in His arms, I also felt it in my very own core.
Tears sprung to my eyes when I realized it, and His expression softened even more, He bent over, kissed my cheeks and eyelids and fed himself from my tears.
"Shh... I didn't mean to scare you, love..." He breathed but I shook my head.

"You gave me so much more then pleasure... Paul."

A wide grin spear over His featured and for the first time I noticed the little scar on His upper lip, when He came closer once more, and locked my lips with His, kissed me in the way that claimed my breath, my heartbeat, kissed me as if there was no tomorrow to fear.

"Don't you believe I'm done with you yet, little one!"

.:*:.

His eyes glimmered mysteriously in the dim light, the boyishly curious hunger mixed with the gentle mature wisdom He radiated entranced me once more, realizing that, who ever would call Him old, just had never seen Him the way I did right now, that He would never be old, never unless He lost what filled Him, His essence - His spirit.
I noticed that my voice and breath trembled when I tried to answer, but nothing was to be heard apart from the long breath I took, but then exhaled again slowly, noticing that there was not really anything to say to that. He wasn't done with me yet.
Instead my eyes began to settle on His exposed chest, not too smooth, not too hairy and despite His age in a shape that couldn't be made any different to provide the perfect fantasy.
As if it had a will of its own, my hand started moving, began to long for touching it, feeling Him, discovering, exploring this skin, that had given so many promised to my eyes, promises that I never knew I would long for, but now felt as if I would die without them.
Soon I found myself desperate to touch Him, to kiss Him, and feel the texture of His skin under my hands, under my lips and tongue.
And He was here, so close, right above me, looking down into my glassy eyes hungrily, but not without the certain and most alluring essence of contentment, making me feel that wherever this night would lead us to - it would be right, it would be so good, and satisfying for us both.
It didn't take long for me to notice the heat His loins radiated now, I could feel him so close, the way I lay there, still slightly out of breath and with my head on His warm lap, His hand idly caressed my stomach, chest and nipples, as if He didn't even pay attention to it, but providing me with the constant feeling of closeness and intimacy when I our eyes locked with each other - but slowly it came to my realization that though I lay here, panting and - at least for the moment - quite perfectly satisfied, He had not received anything from me in return yet.

I felt a desperate need to change that, felt suddenly uncomfortable and self-conscious, because though my sexual experiences could very well be named limited the idea of taking alone had never appealed to me, in no aspect of life. I wanted to give Him more of me, serve Him for His own pleasure, make Him feel proud that it was me He chose to invite into his house, proud that I was His little one, at least for this night - even more so now, that returning a favour meant receiving another one, and one so much more valuable, one I felt yearning for even more then what I had already gotten.
I felt myself twitching as I lay there in His arms and lap, barely able to reach Him, and at the point I couldn't handle my internal tension anymore I got up at a sudden and with quivering breath looked up into His eyes. Meanwhile He had raised His brows only slightly in softly amused inquiry.

"What'cha up to, love?" He asked casually running His hand over my shoulder and down my arm.
A shiver ran down my spine, erecting all these tiny hairs on my arms and back, and suddenly my brave plan sounded ridiculous in my head, could I just bend over and kiss Him, His chest? I trembled in realization that I could not, that I just sat there frozen my eyes again locked with His.

"Bath... bathroom." I stuttered finally and grabbed on of the silky bed-sheets to wrap myself into and got off the large king-size bed. The sheet covered my breasts and fell around my body touching the floor, I looked at Him inquiringly, "Um... where... where to?"

He grinned, "Down the corridor on the left..." I turned around to follow His directions, not before I smiled at Him once more, but before I could reach the door I felt Hs hand closing around mine and pulling me back gently.
"Wait a second, love..." H breathed and pressed Himself close to me. I felt the fabric of his jeans, the buckle of His belt against my lower stomach through the silk sheet, and then very slowly and never breaking eye-contact He took my other hand as well, the one which held the sheets up around my breasts. I felt it sliding to the ground and then my nipples who the stood erect, touching His chest.
"Much better!" He whispered into my ear, while I felt like all air was pressed out of my lungs, like my heart was clenched by His big, calloused but so alluring hands, I felt like I wanted to explode with need for Him.

"There is nothing in all the world that can make you feel ashamed of your own body, little one!"

For what seemed an eternity, we looked at each other, as if could see heaven in His eyes, all the world and all history, every wisdom and knowledge, every aspect of life as if it passed His eyes for my own enlightenment. He was it, the centre of my world, the one I had been looking for all my life, the one I would never find a replacement for, yet knowing that all the time we had together was one night, time flies when you are happy, time would crawl for the rest of my life...
At the very moment I thought I wouldn't be able to hold back my tears anymore, a grin spread over His features and broke the moment that had become too intense, fighting it off to prevent us both from harm. But I knew it was late anyway, too late maybe.

"I thought you needed to go to the bathroom!" He said then smirking and turned me around at my shoulders when I nodded swallowing. I gasped loud when I felt His hand slapping my butt ever so softly and chuckled, "Then what are you waiting for, hush... the sooner you leave the sooner I can ravage you again!"

.:*:.

I looked at myself in the mirror over the sink, saw my glassy eyes, swollen deep red lips, tousled hair and still shaken limbs. Instinctively my hand started tracing my skin, tracking every part Paul had kissed, touched, changed into something different, as if He had miraculously manipulated the molecular texture of my cells, they were not ugly anymore, not in vain and hushed away, hidden and scared to be shown, scared of the light - I wasn't cold anymore, my hands were warm and so was my flesh, and even though my hair was tousled and the skin around my lips reddened from His scraping facial hair, I didn't feel any urge to make up my face and hair, didn't feel any urge now to hide or deny.

Now I was ready, ready to give Him what I longed for giving, now I could dare to be who I wanted to be, who He wanted me to be - and in the end, yes whom I am inside.

He sat on the bed when I returned, His chest still exposed and still wearing His stained, faded blue-jeans and the black, insignificant looking leather-belt, His legs splayed just the way I wanted to sink onto my knees and bury my face in His warm lap. He looked at me expectantly and a warm smile wreathed His reddened lips. And though I still didn't feel entirely comfortable with myself, I wasn't ashamed anymore either.

He smiled at me longingly and then reached out His hand for me to take. Once His fingers closed around mine He pulled me close to Him and while His arms wrapped around my hips His lips kissed my stomach. I moaned leaning my head into the back of my neck, but that wasn't what I wanted now, it wasn't what I needed. Panting I drew away from Him, and blushing I looked down into His eyes, I bit my swollen lips and suddenly His inquiring gaze turned into a tiny smile.

As if He read my thoughts He nodded at me encouragingly and a smile crept into my features - There was no reason to be ashamed, no reason to fear.

And then I did it. Never breaking eye-contact I dropped to my knees between His thighs and His brows arched in a pleasantly surprised awe. Another meaningful glance was exchanged. Do I really want this? I am sure, do I know what I am about to do? - Yes I am! And all of a sudden His hands lay on my cheeks and His lips crashed hungrily onto mine. I felt His tongue exploring my mouth again, His teeth gnawing at my tongue, pulling at my lips hungrily, most tenderness had left this kiss, but this new fervent and desperate quality was not less teasing, even more exciting, leaving my sex tingle with need. I felt His chest quivering above me, felt His breath come in short pants in expectation of the following and then I heard His voice breathing into my mouth:

"God, Iris I want you. Suck me, little one, I need you to!"

I nodded while He still ravaged my mouth and then tore away from, looking up to Him with glassy eyes, my lips slightly parted and out of breath and placed my hand on His chest, this magical texture that felt like heaven under my very hand. He smiled down at me and then frowns softly and reached back.

"Here, take this!" He whispered and pushed a pillow under my knees.

I smiled exhaling a shaking breath, drew closer and dipped my nose into His navel, started rubbing my cheek at His skin, inhaled His scent, this essence of strength and power, of vigour and virtue and it intoxicated my veins and lungs, and when I heard His muffled, rough and deep whimpers, when I tasted His skin I was lost, lost in Him, lost this dream that happened to be reality.

I kissed my way town His stomach and rubbed my cheeks at His thighs, then finally went for the fly of his jeans and in a sudden rush of courage I used my teeth to pull it down. I heard a deep groan from somewhere above me and I let the tip of my nose run over the bulge of His pants where I assumed His centre of need.

His hips bucked forward involuntarily, "Iris..." He groaned above me, need and urge spoke in His tone, and I allowed a grin to wreath my swollen lips when I opened the button and eased Him out of his jeans and underwear - there it was, right in front of my eyes, warmth, scent, His huge cock, hard and twitching slightly.

My lip started to tremble when I looked up to Him one last time. I met need in his eyes, passion and a hint of something I couldn't put a finger on, but what made me happier then anything I had ever seen in my life.

I started by carefully, almost humbly running my fingers over His shaft, oblivious about anything else then the soft, warm texture of His skin, and the sounds I elicited of His throat. Slowly my hand wrapped around the base of His shaft but I could not close my hand around Him and then, closing my eyes I gently stroke up and down, got used to the feeling of His huge cock in my hand, this skin that was most pleasing to the touch, the most amazing tremor rushed through my veins like golden bravery and while the head of His cock already glistened with pre-cum I bent over and pressed an innocent kiss onto it. Again He groaned my name and I unleashed my tongue, licked His head, swirled around Him, incredibly intoxicated by His taste and the feeling He gave me, His moans and twitching cock. My lips parted and I slipped Him into my mouth, as deep as I could and then bobbed up and down on Him gently, trying to suck on Him softly, carefully, because really I didn't have a concept of what I was doing.

At some point I felt His hands caressing my head and hair and while I proceeded His touches got more intense, claiming control. And before I knew what happened, He changed holding me completely. He pushed into my throat, gently and first and when He realized I could take it, wanted to take it He and pushed deeper, harder, let go of His restrains, and while His head pushed deeper and deeper against my throat, and into it, I only heard is hummed moans, hoarse groans, only felt His cock in my mouth and His hands on my head, and while He pushed himself higher and higher into the heavens of pleasure, my stomach churned with the most wonderful emotion, just wishing it would stay like this forever.

Eventually He came, and pulled out, I watched His glittering moist cock slip out of my lips and I tasted the salty cum on my tongue. I looked up to Him yearning for a connection with His eyes, and found heavenly comfort in them, steel blue, His lips were parted and slightly out of breath, but the smile He gifted me with and the glinting sparkle in his eyes gave wings to my heart and let me soar through all the heavens.

"Let me help you..." He breathed and then took my face into His gentle, still slightly trembling hands, and wiped away some moisture from the corner of my lips, that I hadn't even noticed before. I smiled up to Him and then with a loving expression in His eyes He smeared the rest of His cum over my lips, I trembled but then couldn't resist to lick it away - that was the moment he pulled me up into His arms and onto the bed.

"You are amazing, love!" He breathed and kissed me ever so softly, "I knew there was something special about you. But this fire that burns beneath the surface, this gleaming of your eyes, your lust and sensuality - there are not many people who can still surprise me, you're one in a million, you're one in the world."

.:*:.

I can't recall how long we lay on the bed, beneath and above us white silk sheets, sweat, sweet silence. His hands idly roamed over my form, and once in a while His lips met my forehead, chin, eyelids or lips, but I barely felt the distinct moves He made, they were too slow, too hazy, but I knew I was save. I felt divine in His arms, as if nothing could reach me here, that He would protect me from everything that scared me, and at the same time made my own heart strong enough to face them alone one day. One day - tomorrow. I knew that, but I had banned it away, into the last chamber of the darkest part of my mind, locked with seven seals and seven guards who hid it, not to let the knowledge escape to spoil this moment I will remember all my life.

He chuckled lowly when my stomach suddenly grumbled comically, and took my chin between His index finger and thumb, His eyes glinted with amusement and sweet tenderness.
"You must be hungry..." He stated softly, but when I blushed and tried to brush it off, He pulled me closer and silenced me with a kiss onto my pouting lips.
"Hey!" I protested when He finished His attack of my lips and tongue smirking, but He didn't notice or at least didn't pay attention and got up, pulling me with Him.
"Come on we'll get ourselves something to restore our energies!" He slapped my naked butt gently, bit my shoulder and then got off the bed to slip into His boxers. I couldn't make myself move, just looked up Him, how His muscles flexed when He moved, how the tiny hair on His skin curled and His skin perfectly danced the dance of his muscles and sinew.

He was right of course, I was hungry, very hungry even, since I hadn't eaten anything since I had checked into the plane the previous day, nervousness had taken over me and clenched my stomach into a useless knot of innards. He frowned at me to stand up and flushing again I looked around for my clothes, of which I miraculously only could find my skirt.
Having followed my eyes He smirked once more, "I like you best the way you are, baby!" He grinned and took my hand to pull me up. I stood in front of Him only moments later, close, feeling the hair on His chest tickly my breast and the insides of His feet touched the outsides of mine. His lips brushed mine ever so softly, His nose caressed mine and I felt His eye lashes tickle my cheek and when I opened my eyes again He was about to help me into a shirt of His and closed only one button across my chest.
I smiled up to Him, inhaling His scent, which the shirt contained. It hung over my buttocks but did not really cover my most private parts, and I got the impression that this had been His intention. He took my hand then and led me downstairs, I realized that all the surroundings were amazingly uncommon to me, considering the way I knew His bedroom and I remembered the delirious state my consciousness had reached by the time He had brought me there.

"I have prepared something, you know?" He asked suddenly while my eyes still lingered on His walls, His art and unusual furniture, but then my head spun around.
"You... you shouldn't have bothered..." I mumbled but again that only earned me one of His silencing, breathtaking kisses.
"Of course I did," He answered finally "I invited you as my guest - and I expected you to stay for dinner, and now come on..."

In the kitchen He lifted me up to sit on the table, then put the prepared vegetable gratin into the stove and started to wash the salad. I asked Him if there was anything I could do to help, but He wouldn't let me, just threw me loving glances once in a while or came over to kiss me, and I had to admit I loved watching Him, how He paid attention to each onion and carrot. I never realized how cooking could take my breath away, when He did it.

"I think I could watch you forever..." I breathed finally, for some reason feeling the urge to share something of my inner turmoil, but regretting it immediately even before I saw the smirk that wreathed His wonderful lips. "I... I... I... meant, I just meant..." my mumbling annoyed me horribly and I wished for nothing but one of His kisses - it even almost seemed as if my wish would be granted, He approached me, smiling tenderly, took my chin between His index finder and thumb again and looked deep into my eyes.
"I know..." He breathed, grumbling in His vocal chords, "I know exactly what you mean..." His fingers caressed my cheeks lovingly and all I did was looking into His eyes.

The stove suddenly rang to announce that the gratin was done, and broke this moment of intimacy, I cursed it inwardly when He smiled apologetic and started to set the table, but then seemed to change His mind and returned to me with a plate of salad and gratin. His fingers trailed my chin while His other hand approached my lips with a fork of salad. I smiled and opened my lips on His command, a tiny shrug of His brows. And so He fed me, caressing my face and looking into my eyes lovingly, sharing, a bit for Him a bit for me, a kiss, a sip of wine, in my mouth, in His - tasting, playing, experimenting.

"Tastes good..." I whispered finally and He grinned.
"The food - or I?" We chuckled both and I leaned forward into another kiss.
"You..."

.:*:.

I knew I was torturing myself, I knew that this dream, this surreal reality was what I had always longed for, waited for, not content with anything beneath this and never taking the steps I took with Him. But I always knew it was a fairytale my dreams consisted of, something never to come true for anyone, at least not for more then a few days idly seen through the love-stained glasses of immaturity. What was flippantly called love across the world had always been grimed by selfish intentions, compromises I wasn't willing to take and individuality down the drain - hopes and expectations unfulfilled.

I had generally been confident about being alone, unlike many others I knew, who bound themselves to unworthy partners for nothing but the vain sake of their fear of solitude. It disgusted me, always had had and so I had stayed alone, fearing to have lost the ability to fall in love at all, or to feel these butterflies that make you feel like you are one in the world - a woman deeply loved.

Fiction, fantasy and dreams were my only love-life and though I kept longing for more I was considerably content when I thought of the consequences of a relationship the way I knew it, the way I saw it wherever my eyes lingered.

That was maybe the main reason why I had kept my own bet and had been willing to leave my yearning for creative expression behind. It had no value to the world contrary to what I had always dreamed of. The dream for myself to be bestowed with the illusion of a fairytale, that I couldn't hope for coming true.

I had resigned myself to becoming like the people that I have always despised, by marrying someone that I maybe did not love but would feel considerably comfortable with, follow a good career, buy a neat house, with garden fence, a sports-car, a dog, a horse, two children - breakfast at seven, dinner at eight, bleaching on Wednesday, ironing on Monday and Thursday afternoons - living the perfect cliché.

I can't believe now how much I allowed me to delude myself, how much I was ready to deny my true self for the sake of conformity and what I made myself believe to matter.

In that way, I knew it, He saved me back then - Saved me from a life not worth living, leaving to pursue the other path that lay there right open for me.

I shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence; Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.

[from: "The road not taken" - Jack Frost]

It would be painful, it would break me from time to time... maybe even forever. Irreversible stains would be left on my heart and always apparent as a dim flame in the back of my mind. But stains of Him I would always be grateful to receive - from Him I would take anything, everything He'd bother to throw at me, love, kisses, pain even and torture, life-long linger where I never thought I would have been able to go to.

We had finally ended up in his living-room, on the beige suede couch in front of the small fireplace. Exotic native south-American artwork and furniture adorned the delicate chamber, hung on the walls, stood on the ground, covered with carpets and flokatis surrounded us and provided a magical atmosphere, which fitted the dreamlike, hazy quality of our time together.

A big mug a maté-tea stood on the small table in front of us, my head lay on His lap again and while we lingered each in his own reverie His fingers idly played with the strands of my hair.

My eyes were closed and only the regular secure sounds of His breath and the softly cackling fire filled my ears, His scent and the one of burning wood my nostrils and smug, content peace my consciousness. It felt incredibly remarkable how I could I feel so perfectly at ease with someone I knew as short as Him, but in that moment it was nothing but natural, seemed to be part of this special magic that seemed to have entranced us both, part of this temporary fairytale, this finite fading bliss on the run, that we clung to as if we were drowning and it was air, as if it was a lifeline that we just had to grasp with all our strength to prevent us to fall into the rough sea, to be parted forever.

"Paul?" I breathed softly and opened my eyes slowly. He smiled down at me tenderly, once again I was enchanted by the warm glow and the traces of tender fire in His infinite eyes.

"Yes, love?"

And I never saw blue like that before, across the sky, around the world, you've given me all you have and more -
And no one else has ever shown me how, to see the world the way I see it now -
oh I , I never saw blue like that... before.

[from: Never saw blue like that - Shawn Colvin]

I swallowed, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotion He cause in me. I just loved Him, however ridiculous that sounded, there was no other word strong enough to express what I felt in that moment. I smiled up to Him coyly and then breathed, "Would you read Poetry for me?" I bit my lip and smiled at Him from lowered lashes, "Please" I whispered when He frowned in tender amusement, "I want to hear your voice..." my breath vanished and I broke my voice when I saw the expression in His eyes, He nodded then and reached under the small table to draw forth a small book.

"Close your eyes!" He insisted whispering and I was only to happy to obey.

Only His voice seemed to fill the room, reach in every corner, velvet and silk, and suddenly I knew what happiness meant.

If you forget me

I want you to know

one thing.

You know how this is:

if I look

at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch

near the fire

the impalpable ash

or the wrinkled body of the log,

everything carries me to you,

as if everything that exists,

aromas, light, metals,

were little boats

that sail

toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,

if little by little you stop loving me

I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly

you forget me

do not look for me,

for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,

the wind of banners

that passes through my life,

and you decide

to leave me at the shore

of the heart where I have roots,

remember

that on that day,

at that hour,

I shall lift my arms

and my roots will set off

to seek another land.

But

if each day,

each hour,

you feel that you are destined for me

with implacable sweetness,

if each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me,

ah my love, ah my own,

in me all that fire is repeated,

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda

.:*:.

His words intruded my soul, slicked by His magic voice placing ideas and hopes where I didn't want them to linger. I couldn't allow myself to listen to the words He uttered, couldn't allow myself to even think about the possibility that this might not be a randomly picked poem, but a message, an offer even, but it couldn't be. "I can't promise you tomorrow" He had told me. Unrequited love, I could deal with, it was what I was used to, what I had learned to cope with all my life, but hopes unfulfilled, planted into my soul by His sweet voice were something I knew would haunt me. Never would I forget what He has told me, searching for that special poem just to feel close to Him, grasp the moment again that had slipped out of my fingers so long ago, over and over reading it aloud, shedding bitter tears about the loss of something I had never really owned.

I had tears in my eyes that I quickly blinked away when He ended and sought contact to my eyes.

"Love?" He asked softly, ever so tender and again I had to fight against my own rising hope, He would never give me the love I yearned for, the love the poem described, He had told me so very clearly and I had accepted that one condition to get something else, something I knew had nothing to do with what I really wanted but had felt good, had felt so right all day.

His hand cupped my cheek, and His thumb softly wiped away the tears I couldn't hold back, but didn't seem to dare asking for their cause. And suddenly, realizing that I wouldn't have more then what He offered me, I wanted it, suddenly I needed to feel Him, needed to take the last step, the one I had never taken before, the one that seemed inevitable this night. It was all He had to give me, and I wanted it, desperately needed it.

"Please love me Paul," I breathed and a sob escaped my throat, "Please make love to me..."

An almost painful longing flashed through His eyes before He bent over to lock my mouth with His lips, exploring with a touch of the desperate hunger you devour a fruit with, which you know will be the last you will ever taste of that that special sweetness. He left me breathless again, at His will in His arms when He lifted me up from my lying position and placed me sitting on His knees, while He pushed down His boxers. In awe I stared down at His cock, large and erect, a column of my lust pressed against His stomach. I gasped at the sheer size of it, because though I'd had the pleasure of tasting Him already, the memory alone let a torrent of hormones rush through my brain, I had not looked at it in the measure of fitting where He would inevitably strive to.

His hand cupped my cheek again, and working considerable pressure to my skin, He rubbed over my neck and down my décolleté until He ripped apart the button that still held His shirt closed over my breast. My nipples were erect before He reached them and a hungry smile wreathed His lips.

"Don't be scared, baby!" He murmured while I tried to savour each second, each gesture, each expression on His face, each aspect of pleasure He gave me for eternity.

"I won't hurt you, come on... we'll take it slowly..." my heart seemed to fail me every second, but second for second I realized that it still beat, and when He softly lifted me up again and placed my crotch directly over His cock, that stood so tall in the flickering light of the fireside. My knees supported me, each on either side of Him and a nervous tickle ran through my veins. I knew He wanted to make it good for me, I knew that He waited for me, that I should be able to measure what I could take at every single moment.

"Now slowly come down upon me, shh... it's ok... c'mon..." His hand seized my face again and drew me in a long passionate kiss, His other hands caressed my breasts and very slowly I did as He'd said, felt at first His rock-hard head parting my labia, shifted a bit, trembling hard. But then His arms wrapped around me, and His kiss gave me strength, I felt His cock against the slick centre of my wide spread legs and biting my lip so hard, it almost bled, I sank deeper, impaled myself upon Him, my eyes pressed shut, went past the tiny point of an obstacle, relished the sweet pain and sacrificed my self on the altar of His pleasure. I heard Him groaning into my mouth, heard my own shaking breath and it seemed before I could catch my breath I already sat on His lap, His whole length filling me completely, adjusting to the strange and new feeling He worked upon me.

It was after that, when I realized that I was covered in sweat, and my breath had become nothing but a feeble panting. I opened my eyes carefully, to meet His, softly smiling, warming my soul within the last corner of my existence, there was nothing I could have hidden anymore, nothing I wouldn't want Him to know, my soul was His - but He didn't claim His ownership, didn't seize what already belonged to Him.

I tried to smile at Him, insecure and still shaking, trying to realize that it was Him I felt deep within me, stretching me open, warm and hard, taking my breath away. I loved the feeling, even though I did feel the slight pain of defloration, it was forgotten almost instantly. And when He shifted to claim my lips with His again I moaned out loud from the sudden move inside me. He grinned, softly nibbled at my lips and still continued to caress my breasts.

"How do you feel, little one?" He breathed finally into my ear, the warm air on my neck sent shivers down my spine.

"God..." I exhaled, still trembling and His low chuckle met my ears, only second before His lips did.

"Does anything hurt?" It was now clear concern that spoke through His voice and the way He looked at me, but shook my head smiling, desperate keeping my mouth shut because I knew the one thing I needed to get out was 'I love you'.

.:*:.

My breath slowly calmed when I acclimated to the new and fascinating feelings He gave me, filling me deep within me, stretching me open, making me His own, granting me with the pleasure of His intimacy. His hand gently caressed my cheek and then slowly directed my chin upwards, claiming eye-contact, He sparkled down to me, lovingly and tender but I saw the secret fire burning, I saw the hunger, the need that had also captured my own mind, filling me with a yearning for more, deeper, harder, Him, now.

He let His hand run down my spine as we sat there, I still impaled on Him, perfectly still and with uneven breath, uneven heartbeat. I shivered from His ever so soft touches, the total contrast to the incredible force of Him inside me.

"You ok?" He breathed, and I nodded, smiling happily, realizing that I still owed Him an answer.

"Good." He leaned over to kiss me, and I moaned again loudly into His open mouth when He shifted – feeling His every move deep within my lap. A chuckle accompanied the tender teasing kiss which followed. Nibbling at my lips, my tongue, sucking, tasting, He slowly started to hold my waist heaved me up ever so slowly, ever so slightly and brought me down upon Him again. My breath came hoarsely as if His cock in me would clench my trachea.

"Ready for more?" He asked lowly, while caressing my face with His contradictive hands, calloused and rough could be so tender, so soft. I smiled up to Him, nodded and then leaned forward, my head fell onto His shoulder and I clung to Him, the last thing I knew for sure, the last thing I could hold on to – Him.

"Careful now," He whispered into my ear, "Hold on steady, don't worry, I won't hurt you!"

Smiling I nodded, "I know!" I whispered, muffled by His sweet velvet neck I nuzzled into, and gasped when I felt His hands on my ass, holding me tightly to Him, always aware of His twitching cock in my folds.

"I'll get up now, wrap your legs around my waist tightly baby!"

Following His instructions I closed my legs around his lower torso, coming to sit on His waist, still impaled on Him, and I gasped loudly when He got up and the pressure inside me seemed to double. Stifling my moans I involuntarily felt the flesh of His neck between my teeth and His shuddering moan in my ear.

"God, baby – I need you!" He groaned and locked my body between Himself and up against the next wall, pumping His erection into me a few times, careful at first but then harder and less restrained. The feelings I had were indescribable, when the only breathe I had was loud and coarse, my moans only replaced by gasps and cries of pleasure. Sweat covered my skin, slicked my hands, my legs – and the fluid, the juice of my passion ran in torrents down my cleft.

I heard His rough breath next to me, His own groans, His dirty whispers, want, need, pure sparks of passion that had inflamed our whole existence.

He let go of the wall soon after, and while kissing me, ravishing my lips, fucking my mouth with His sweet demanding tongue He carried me up the stairs again and when He finally reached his bedroom He fell on top of me onto his bed. My legs were still wrapped around Him when He started pounding into me, pushing us both into higher and higher depths of ecstasy, of loud unrestrained cries and moans, of the eternal flame we had unleashed.

"Come for me, little one, cum on my cock!" He groaned into my ear when His thumps had reached the peak of fervour and that was the last incentive I needed – spasmic white heat filled my eyes, stars flicked, and darkness began to encircle me, when at the height of passion I screamed out my lust, and the centre of our lovemaking started to contract around His hardness. A second later – at the edge of oblivion, I felt Him spurting his seed deep into me and His hardness slackening. He collapsed on top of me, nothing but our sweat between us, and I felt His hot breath on my neck, His weight as most wonderful presence and His soft cock in me the last witness of our love-making.

To me it was like a painful stab in my heart when He shifted, pulled out of me and released me from His body upon me. He lay next to me and smiled, this eternally mysterious smile of satisfied lust, sparkling His eyes locked with mine, and carefully He covered us both in His silken sheets.

I can't recall how long we lay there, drowning in each others eyes, accompanied by the most innocent touches, by the most remarkable silence. The closeness I experienced that night was more then I ever imagined possible, like melting into each others souls, like fading but in a good way, blending into Him. And suddenly I felt as if I could see the world through His eyes, I saw mountains I had never seen before, rivers, oceans, and I saw loneliness. I saw perfection and I saw flaws, and I saw myself – in a way I had never seen me before and the realization struck me.

I was perfect – in that night I was beautiful, in that night I was a genius, in that night – I was the woman I always dreamed of being, the woman He wanted. I saw myself through His eyes, and I saw that I was less incomplete then I had thought, that there was more to me then I had felt – I saw what I truly am, I saw what I was, and I saw what I will be – always, in His arms.

But the moment faded, slowly I found myself behind my own eyes again, and all I saw then was Him – always and forever Him. Never would I forget how He lay there, never looking away, not once dividing His attention to anything but me, in that night I saw that we were meant for each other, regardless of all the words we had said, regardless of all the world we would say yet and to where fate would lead us. This would last. In this way or the other, in this life or the next.

***

***

***

The softest cooling breath caressed my skin, when I awoke in a deserted bed. I kept my eyes closed realizing that I was alone, the windows had been opened and the morning breeze had taken the scent of sex and sweat away. The white silk sheets next to me lay tidily placed and the curtains of the same fabric swayed gently in front of the opened window. I could hear the birds sing and twitter in the broad backyard and the warm shades of the rising sun shone veiled soft through the curtains.

The scene was perfect, so pure, so innocent, as if sprung from a dream, but I could not appreciate it. My heart ached painfully when I realized what I had gotten myself into. The hazy beauty, the ecstasy of yesterday lay now, in the harsh light of day uncovered of its mystery for what it had been: A one night stand.

I had lost my virginity in a one night stand, the empty bed proved it, the perfect cliché.

For some reason I had, in the afterglow of the nights passion, expected to wake up in his arms, the sheets crinkled, only half covering his bare chest, the smell of sex still in the air and I had watched him, as he slept calmly, before he would wake up and we would make love again.

But it was cold and I was alone.

I shivered and quickly got up, wrapping the sheet around my naked form and stepped to the window, drawing the curtains away. The sun had risen quite high over the fruit tree tops and bathed the whole garden in warm, golden light. My heart beat faster when I saw Paul standing in a pavilion in a far end, in front of a broad sheet of canvas. He wore jeans but his chest was still bare like his feet, his hair ruffled, and with powerful, then soft strokes he coloured the canvas. For the spark of a moment I remembered how I had felt when I had woken up, before knowing that he had left, before feeling the chill of morning. A shiver ran down my spine and my sex started tingling again, I had felt better then ever before in my life – satisfied, and in a state of calm bliss.

But not anymore. Now all I could feel was disappointment and anger about my own illusions. I had known it would end this way, he had told me, and it was clear all the time, why did I have to mistake the signs, why did I have to start hoping for more, because all these unfulfilled dreams now spoiled what had been the most wonderful night of my life.

I tore myself away from the view and bit away a tear that formed in the corner of my eye. This reverie wouldn't bring me anywhere and all I longed for now was getting out of this situation as soon as possible. I didn't want to hear him say goodbye, didn't want to see that pitiful glance knowing that I felt more for him then he could return. I left the room searching for the bath, if I had to face him I would do it my way. I won't still have his scent on me, I won't have still his seed sticking to my thighs, I won't have any sign on me that reminded of last night – and I would tell him that he was right. That neither I was able to feel more for him, that we'd had a wonderful night but that there would never be more between us.

But in the shower, while the hot drops cascaded on my skin, the sound of the stream muffled my sobs and tears flowed into the water.

A smile wrinkled my lips when I returned to bedroom and after a frantic moment, searching my clothes, I found them all tidily placed on a chair. But the smile didn't linger, he obviously wanted me out of his life as soon as possible, he was a loner, a poet. A painter. There was nothing I could offer him to make me stay – obviously. I already had given him all I have had, more then anyone has ever gotten from me, he had seen me, the deepest core of my existence, he had held it in his gentle hands – for one night.

I found him in the kitchen my hair in a damp ponytail but apart from that perfectly calm, perfectly styled - nothing reminded of the intimacy we had shared and even had I managed to recover my eyes, in order not to let them appear too puffy and rimmed. Perfectly stable, perfect countenance and ready to say goodbye.

"Good morning, my love!" he cooed hoarsely when he heard me and turned around. His smile was honest and disarming and when he approached me I almost backed off as he tried to embrace me in a good morning kiss. He looked down at me concerned, I could tell, when I ended up in wincing to my core, and slowly he ran his hand down my arm. A shiver ran down spine and I barely could hold back the tears that were desperately welling up in my eyes. This was not what I had expected, it was not what I had built up courage and strength for, and as beautiful as it was, I felt more vulnerable then ever before in my life - I had torn this thin hair-line of hope apart long ago – I would not allow me to weave a new one, to be hurt once more and even worse.

"I made breakfast," he whispered gently, his brows arched in the sweetest complexion of insecure question inquiry for my worry – "I hope you like fruit salad, but I also made wafers in case… sweetheart, what's the matter?"

Tears ran openly down my cheeks now, how could he be so sweet, so gentle when he would ask me to leave any minute now – he would not love me today, that's the only thing he was sure of - he loved me yesterday, today he was over with me. I had known it, I had accepted it, I even was willing to go through with it, my head proudly lifted – and now?! What was now?

.:*:.

I stared at Paul disbelievingly. He seemed so honest, so open-hearted and earnest as if oblivious about our arrangement, about the conditions he had made me agree to. As if I was more then just a random lover in his house. His worried eyes still lingered upon my tears, that I now brushed away roughly.

"No thank you!" I mumbled in a last attempt to regain my pride, "I'd better be going, there is no need to prolong this any longer – I understand…"

My stomach churned and trachea knotted when I saw his expression – he looked as if I had slapped him, no worse. It was so unlike of what I had expected (what had I expected anyway?!).

I saw hurt in flashing over his beautiful eyes and hesitantly he drew back the hand, he had placed on my arm. He swallowed slowly, avoided my eyes, and coughed hoarsely when he cleared his dry throat.

"Stay!" he whispered finally, edging closer to me again, when he had finally regained his composure, "Please stay, just a bit longer – sit down, have breakfast, there is no hurry – let's talk!"

I tasted the coppery taste of blood on my tongue, and realized that my teeth had clenched my lower lips tightly, I tried to make them let go, and managed after a while, not without some more tears having welled up behind my lids.

His gaze was warm, worried, deeply concerned and… and – no! And nothing! I was beginning to fall into the exact trap I had in the previous night and I would not let that happen. He didn't love me, hell of course not, he was no naïve teenager anymore who believed in love after one night, he couldn't love me – what was there in me for him to love?! He didn't even care about me in that way you do before you know you are falling in love. He was polite. Too polite to just kick me out first thing in the morning without another word, maybe he was even worried I might not take it well, but he didn't love me, so I should just keep that little voice quiet that kept telling me teasingly sadistic the opposite.

Finally I shrugged, and keeping eyes cast to the floor I sat down on the chair he held out for me.

"Thanks." I muttered, shooting him a scarcely honest smile, and watched him taking a seat against me. His brows raised expectantly he started pouring freshly squeezed orange juice into a glass, and offered it to me in silence but with softly raised brows.

I took it gratefully, just like the following fruit salad and wafers – it was a long time since I had been spoiled way, if ever. He did not once mention anything of importance, or he did, but nothing that mattered for me in that specific moment. He talked about the morning sun and of the birds' song at dawn, he talked of the fruits in the salad and of the painting he had started to work on, of the colours he used and his favourite spot in the garden. I listened intensely, and though I hoped for nothing more then a clearing word about us, about the state we were in and what would happen after I had finished my meal, I could not deny how much I enjoyed listening. His voice once again lulled me in a world of dreams and fantasy, a world of utter contentment and blissful peace of heart.

I ate slowly, even more so that morning, fearing our time together would end the moment I finished. But eventually I had to face that it was an inevitable moment to come, and mentally preparing my defences I took the last bite of his wafers, savouring its taste, like I had savoured every moment of our time together, every part of his skin, his lips, tongue, like I had savoured his voice and every world of his – and put the fork down.

I was determined to say something. Anything. Anything that would clear the situation and told me where I stood, what I had to expect and what not. But before I could utter a world Paul raised from his seat and smiled at softly.

"Why don't you get comfortable in the living room, I need to shower but... but don't leave!"

His voice seemed so soaked in emotion, that I started shivering, but I had not built up my defences in vain, and bravely I cocked my head up and faced his stare, trying not to melt in an instant.

"Paul…" I breathed, "For how long this time?"

Again that expression, as if I tortured him, spoiled the beautiful silence we had shared. But could I hurt him, how could this mean enough for him to look at me like that?

"I'm sorry!" I whispered then, "I just,… I thought you wanted me to go, I need… I need clarity, Paul!"

He nodded softly, and then every so gently stroke my cheek, his finger idly caressing my skin, and my whole body started trembling again. There was no way to deny that: I wanted him again, I needed him – every moment, every heartbeat I needed that man. But I knew I had already gotten more then I could have hoped for.

"Iris…" he breathed, and his eyes seemed to soak in emotion, "I… I told you I can't give you promises, just… just stay please… I need you to…"

"But you can't promise me tomorrow!" I cut him off, and couldn't avoid a frustrated sarcastic tone to it. How could he do that to me, look at me like that and expect me to put all thoughts of my wellbeing behind because the longer we would linger, the worse the pain would be.

His eyes were still locked with mine when he breathed "I'm sorry, that's all I can offer – I never said I'm a good match!" but I didn't want him to apologise. I nodded and he pecked my cheek, one last time I inhaled his unique scent, one last time felt his facial hair scraping over my skin, one last time heard his breath in my ear – because I had made a decision.

"You are a really special girl, Iris, do you know that? You deserve so much more then an old, screwed man hurting you…" again our eyes locked, one last outburst of inner turmoil that he stirred, but my decision could not welter.

"You are not old…" I breathed, smiling softly, "And… and it's not about what I deserve, I don't care what I deserve, Paul…" It's about what I can take without loosing my sanity. But I could not make myself utter that aloud.

Paul brushed his thumb over my lip and smiled again. "I'll be back soon, make yourself comfortable…" He turned and walked up the stairs, leaving me alone. That was the moment I couldn't hold my tears any longer and they spilled freely down my cheeks. But I had made my decision, the only one possible, without breaking my heart forever and quickly I scribbled a note onto a small sheet and clutching my handbag I ran out of the house, leaving the luxurious front yard far behind me before I even thought of slowing down…

Epilogue

Heated drops of crystal liquid cascaded onto the man's pleasantly tanned skin, that stretched over his perfect complexion of muscle and sinew. His head was leaned into the back of his neck and he ran his hands through the soaped, jaw-length cut, dark straw-coloured hair, and a low groan echoed through the small shower cubicle. In his mind he still lingered in the previous night, as he had all morning. He obviously had had great sex before, he'd had amazing sex and radiated that to most women – but with her something had been different, something had been unique and it lingered. It lingered in his mind, in his soul, it inspired him to work, to paint, to write – something was different, and he couldn't wait to get downstairs and delve into that new and deeply satisfying emotion again.

The soft towel stuck to his wet form when he dried himself slowly, letting his hands linger on his chest, that she had kissed. A warm glow had filled his existence, his veins and cells, as if the sun had lit up inside of him leaving him changed, leaving him a different man.

Smiling he walked down the stairs into his kitchen, a warm smile burned into his features, and found it deserted – but while he proceeded into the living-room, the garden, even the bathrooms and his atelier and the smile slowly faded, he hadn't noticed the small note on the kitchen table. It took a while until he fully realized that his angel had left, and much longer what she had really meant to him. Until he could admit to himself that she could have been what he had been looking for all his life, by now taking for granted he would never find her – and that he had let his angel go. The painting he had started that morning in the afterglow of their love making, in warm colours of red and gold, became darker and darker the more he worked on it, until he finally made himself stop and while the dawn already crept into his beautiful garden he returned into the house shivering. He had to eat something, had to drink, had to sleep, although he already knew he would not be able to.

Dear Paul,

Perfection does not linger – it's true.

Nothing can assure that what we'd had could have been more, could have blossomed to a bliss that doesn't fade, like the one we felt last night.

You are not ready to try anymore, but maybe that means that you have given up on yourself forever, or maybe I'm just not enough to shatter your defences – have it as you want to. But I know that I love you and as tempting as your offer may have been, you know it's not enough.

I'm sorry -

"Why do sweet dreams leave such a big Stain?"

- Iris

For the first time on that day tears welled up behind the man's lids, but at the same time a smile crept up his features. And suddenly he knew – the changes, he had taken for granted would never come, these changes had already begun, there was no way back, there was no letting go, because in his heart she had not left, in his heart she was still there, looking up to him with her large innocent eyes, that held the whole world, the whole universe in a single sparkle.

And with a smile he went bed, there was no hurry, he had a whole lifetime to explore the new terrain, the new love that had shattered the world, he had built up around him. Once again he found himself getting lost, drowning in her artwork, that he would publish as soon as he could, and with a yearning heart, but knowing that tomorrow a new and exciting future would begin, he fell in a calm and dreamless slumber…

The End.