4 comments/ 7566 views/ 0 favorites Requiem By: Angelindisguise223x This story was written over a long period, the idea triggered by a friend of mine. Though it took forever to write and edit... and re-edit... I am extremely proud of how far it has come since its start. I would appreciate the feedback, positive or negative, anything that would help improve my writing. However... if you're going to respond that I took to long to get to the sexual aspect of it, I ask that you please leave and save your time and mine. I have never, EVER been into "Wham, Bam, Thank you Ma'am"... and my writing reflects that. Thank you Angelus for the classical idea and triggering my brain for this story! And for letting me bounce ideas off of you. And an even more important thanks to my lifelong friend who has helped me find the passion within me and for helping me discover true love again... things I never thought I could have. I love you. * The soft bed sheets moved against my skin as Christian's fingers caressed my back, moving sensuously, teasing me. I turned to face him, the moonlight outlining his face, his blonde hair glistening. "What are you doing?" I inquired playfully, my arms wrapping around his hard body. "I woke up and saw you laying there and just couldn't help myself." His eyes, blue and dark, pierced mine as we stared at each other in the moonlit room. He inched his facer closer to mine, his breath warm against me. Suddenly, a blindingly bright light shone. I sat up quickly. I looked around to find daylight outside, and myself alone in bed with a note. "Brianna, You looked so beautiful, I couldn't wake you, though I was extremely tempted. I had to go to work early, so I left you pancake batter in the fridge, made with cinnamon just the way you like them. I love you. Enjoy your day off. I'm sorry I couldn't be home to share it with you. Forever, Christian" I gripped the note and fell back on the bed. I smiled as I looked out the door to the balcony, sunlight streaming in, illuminating the room. It was the beginning of October, the air was cooling but warm, and the leaves were just beginning to change to match the color of the sun. Judging by the angle of the rising sun, it wasn't much past 8. I missed Christian. Every bone in my body told me to go back to sleep and just wait for him to come home. The sheets warmed me as my naked body stretched beneath them. I vaguely attempted to fall back asleep until the faint scent of the pancakes that he made for himself this morning made its way up the staircase to my nose. I bounced out of bed, threw my robe on and flew down the stairs to the kitchen. The scent of cinnamon flooded me. I opened the refrigerator to find the mix Christian left and hurriedly made myself breakfast. "Hm... Maybe he really can cook," I mumbled to myself. "At least breakfast foods." I silently ate the pancakes after drenching them in maple syrup. I swirled the remaining amount of syrup on the plate making odd designs purely for my own amusement. I dropped the fork on the plate and looked around the house. "It's my day off and what am I doing? Sitting in my house, alone. This is officially pathetic." A boredom that bordered on depression swept over me as I began cleaning up the kitchen. I slowly wandered my way back upstairs. I flipped through Christian and my vast music collection, and stumbled upon a CD I hadn't played in sometime. I placed my copy of Mozart's "Requiem" in the player and danced my way across the room. I dropped my robe back onto the chair that I originally retrieved it from and slid my naked body back under the sun-warmed sheets. The taste of perfectly-made pancakes on my tongue, and the thought of my interrupted dream still fresh in my mind, I curled into the heat of the October sun and fell back asleep. "Hi." Moonlight was once again illuminating the room. Christian had returned to my side, his fingers running up and down my spine, tracing small patterns across my back. "Hi, yourself," I said. "I'm dreaming again, aren't I?" "Maybe," Christian replied. "But if you are, I hope you wake up thinking it was a good dream." His arms enveloped me as I moved closer to him. When I felt his lips press against my forehead, I began to wonder if I had maybe just fallen asleep that long and Christian had just woken me up when he got home. No such luck. As I closed my eyes and reached for his lips with my own, I heard a thud from behind me. Startled, my eyes flew open only to reveal a much higher sun. The light still came pouring into my room. I looked towards the balcony to see a dove sitting on the railing, seeming dazed and confused. I sat up and wrapped the sheet around me and made my way to the door. Sliding the glass door open, the bird cocked its head and looked at me like I had just performed a magic trick. With a "coo," he flew away. "Stupid bird," I muttered. As I looked over across the immense yard from the balcony, I watched the leaves change colors. I watched the first few orange and red fires fall to the ground. I retreated inside, back to the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate. It suddenly seemed that time and it was necessary. I sat at the table flipping through the paper, passing through the boring parts and going straight to the comic strip section waiting for the water to be hot enough. I had finished the sudoku puzzle and the word search by the time the water boiled. "This is what my life has come to. On my day off, I absent-mindedly fill out ridiculous puzzles that any five year old could do." I paused for a moment. "Dear sweet Jesus, I'm talking to myself." Shaking my head, I poured the water into a mug and added the cocoa mix. Soon the scent of chocolate mingled with the cinnamon of this morning. I made my way back up to the balcony and sat in the wooden rocking chair, curled my feet underneath me, and just existed. I drank my cocoa and watched as animals, from squirrels to rabbits, crossed our yard, many making their way to the lake and back across into the woods. I watched as birds swooped to catch fish. I was grateful that my day off was so beautifully warm. I knew I wouldn't get a chance to be so close to nature again as winter was fast approaching, though you wouldn't know it with the heat. I turned to my left and looked at the easel and stool I had placed on the balcony six months ago when we first moved in. I hadn't touched it since then. It was always a case of not having time, or being to busy, or having better things to do or not knowing where to let myself go with my art. The truth was I was afraid to let myself relax. As I looked beyond the easel towards the tree-lined lake, I saw two deer approaching the clearing that allowed the house access to the lake. I watched as they stopped in the middle of that clearing, the sun and trees presenting brilliant shadows across the area. They were beautiful, graceful creatures as I watched what I assumed was the doe take care of her fawn, providing food for the both of them. Not wanting to miss this opportunity , I slipped the door open and walked to the art studio down the hall from our bedroom and grabbed an art pad and the pastels my mother had given me quite some time ago. I ran quickly back towards the balcony, fearing the opportunity had escaped me. I put the art pad on the easel and turned to shut the door leading from the bedroom to the balcony. It emitted a loud click that startled even me. I turned to look at the clearing to find the doe looking up at me. She and the fawn were at least a hundred feet away, and I was above them, but I could feel her eyes on me. She and her fawn continued about their business, as I sat on the stool and began drawing furiously, afraid they would be startled again and run off. They were stationary for quite sometime. As I had just begun the area around them, I noticed the doe look up with a start and run off towards the woods on the right side of the house, with the fawn close behind. I was saddened at first that something had startled them, knowing there was very little danger around here, but knew the doe was protecting herself and her fawn. As I refocused my attention to the clearing the began filling in the trees and fallen leaves, the balcony door slid open. "You know I hate it when you go outside in your underwear," a male voice said condescendingly. "I know... that's why I didn't wear any," I replied smugly. "I'm wearing a sheet. It fully covers me. And oh. Wait. We're about fifteen miles from civilization. So unless you're concerned about animals ogling me, you've nothing to be concerned about." Christian wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my hair. "I don't want anyone looking at you. You're mine to enjoy." "Well aren't we possessive?" I asked coyly. I turned to face Christian and kissed him lightly. "What are you doing home so early?" I asked with a smile. "What? You don't want to see me? I see how it is," he replied, tickling my sides. I dropped the pastel I was holding on the base of the easel and turned to face him. "So you got fired, huh?" I joked. "Ha. Ha. Very funny. No. With the holidays coming up we're finally having some down time. All of the advertising deals are done for the holidays, so boss let some of us go home early. He kept some of the slackers there as punishment." "Wait. So he sent home his good workers, and is paying the guys who don't do anything?" I asked, mildly disturbed by the concept. "Someone's gotta answer the phones... and I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to pay me a hundred and twenty dollars an hour to do it." "You're a smart ass." "Yes... I am... that's how we afforded this house. By me being a smart ass." "Oh, so you're the lone contributor in the household?" I exclaimed, pretending I was insulted. "Not at all baby." His hand caressed my cheek, moved down my neck and began playing with the area where the sheet lay on my chest. "You contribute more than enough." With that he picked me up and spun me around on the balcony. He stood me up and kissed me. A long, hard kiss. As he backed away his denim blue eyes stared at me, roaming over my body, his hands slowly trying to push the sheet off my body. "I thought you didn't want anyone to see me naked," I said coolly. "Aren't you afraid a squirrel will get aroused?" "Let him." "Who said it was a male squirrel?" His laughter filled my ears as he wrapped his arms around me. "I should let you finish before the sun goes down. By tomorrow it'll have all changed. The feeling won't be the same." I looked at him, shocked that he understood not just that I wanted to finish, but the fact that I was capturing a moment, a feeling, a unity with nature. I watched as he turned and entered the bedroom, shutting the balcony door behind him. As I turned back to my art, I heard him turn off "Requiem". My face distorted into one of annoyance. "I was listening to that," I thought. I quickly put the thought aside when I heard him enter the room below ours and begin playing his guitar. I begin drawing what I saw to the rhythm of his song. I finished quickly with his help. I took the pad down and carefully removed the picture from it. I blew the extra dust off it, leaving a clean looking piece of incredibly inspired art. I smiled. Most of the stress in my life had escaped into this picture. Everything was suddenly calm. A light breeze swept through the trees and blew my hair. I slid the door open and took the picture to the desk in the bedroom. It was staying there until I figured out where I was going to put it. Or if I was even going to keep it. Still in the sheet, I tiptoed downstairs. As I turned the corner at the base of the stairs, I could clearly hear Christian playing. I approached the room to see him sitting in the bay window in just a pair of jeans. Suddenly, I had another inspiration. "Baby?" Startled, Christian almost dropped his guitar as he slid out of the window. "Hi." "All I get is 'hi'?!" "You startled me. I couldn't think of anything else to say. You look like an angel." "No I don't." Maybe I did. I was wrapped in a white sheet, with extraordinary long brown curls tumbling down my back. Maybe not angel. More like Greek Goddess. "Could you come with me?" "Sure," he said, putting his guitar down. "No!" I jumped. "Bring that with." Christian looked at me inquisitively, but reached for the guitar and followed me back upstairs. I looked at him as he stood out on the balcony, in just jeans. "You're missing something," I said. "Excuse me?" he asked, staring at me incredulously. "I'll be right back." I returned to the balcony with a cowboy hat. Silently, I moved him to the edge of the balcony, forcing him to sit on the ledge, with his back against the house. His left leg was bent up on the balcony, as his right leg steadied himself by hanging, his toes just touching the floor beneath us. I handed him the guitar and told him to play. As he began to play I tilted the cowboy hat down a bit, just enough that you could barely see his expressive eyes. The sun was beginning to set. The lighting behind him was perfect. The oranges and reds of autumn made his post-summer tan stand out even more. His toned abs rippled as he played. After admiring him for a moment, I sat down and went to work. He played the whole time I drew. Every curve, I knew exactly. I knew what it felt like beneath my finger tips. I could do this from memory if I had to. But I wanted to look at him. Before me was this sexual being, playing random guitar notes, or what could have been a song. I wasn't exactly focused on that. I was focused on the muscles of his arms that tensed each time he'd strum. I watched the quickness of his fingers, imagining what the would feel like on me, knowing he plays me better than he plays the guitar. I watched as his eyes closed as he listened to his own music. I noticed him breathing in the scents around him, feeling nature wrap around him. With his eyes closed, I finished. I stared at him for a minute or two... watching his every movement. "I'm done," I finally said. He stopped playing, and set the guitar against the door to our bedroom. He walked behind me, wrapping his strong arms around me, his chest pressing against my thinly clothed back. "Is that what I look like?" "Why? What's wrong?" I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. He hated it. "This is amazing. You have this type of talent, and you haven't touched this easel since we moved in. Why not?" I could feel a sense of anger coming from within him. "I never have time. Between work, and the house, and you. There's just no time." "Baby, for something like this, you make time. You're far too good at it not to." I blushed at his compliment. The tears came free-flowing now as he stood in front of me, his hands resting on my shoulders. All the stress had escaped me. Everything, from the hassle of moving in to the house and unpacking, to handling work and the changes going on there, to Christian working long hours. It suddenly all dissipated into my art, into Christians fingertips. I could feel it moved from me through the house, to the ground, to a place far, far away where I didn't have to feel it anymore. As the sun finally set behind the trees on the lake, the coolness of autumn was felt. Without the warmth of the sun, the temperature dropped from a warm seventy-something to what couldn't have been much above forty. I shivered slightly at the new found chill. Christian wiped my tears and stood me up, taking me by the hand and led me into the house. I put the sheet back on the bed and put my robe on. "Go downstairs," he said behind me. "I'll bring in everything from outside and then start on dinner." I slowly walked downstairs, the hurriedness that I had felt earlier had escaped me. Time stood still for me now. Instead of turning right to go down the hallway to the kitchen, I turned left and entered our living room. I'd always admired this room. It had plush carpeting, which made you feel as though you were walking on clouds, all over except for in front of the fireplace. The large wood-burning fireplace was surrounded by exquisite hardwood flooring covered partly by a bearskin rug. There was a bit of slate just in front of the place itself to prevent damage to the floor itself. Above that was a monstrous plasma TV, put there by a very persistent Christian. There were multiple, huge comfortable sofas, love seats, and chairs that you could fall into and never get out of because you just didn't want to, it was perfect for entertaining. It was by far the warmest room in the house. I crossed the large room to the fireplace, finding the tile extremely cold. I heard Christian moving back and forth between the balcony and the bedroom as I lit kindling and old newspapers in the fireplace. I placed the first log on the fire and by the time Christian had come downstairs, it had caught and was blazing. For kicks, I placed another one in. Christian walked in, still in just his jeans, and cuddled up with me on the bearskin rug. "You are such a pyromaniac!" he said, tickling my sides. I turned quickly and pushed him onto his back, covering him with my body. "Pyro or not, I was cold and needed some warmth." "Well that's what I'm here for." "No." I said, looking into his eyes with a smile. "You're here to make my meals for me!" "Oh really?" he asked with a mild amount of shock in his voice. I simply nodded with a smile. "Well in that case, I suppose I better get to it!" With that he carefully slid me off his body onto the bearskin rug and exited the room. I turned to face the fire, when suddenly I was enveloped in a warm blanket. I jumped and twisted my neck quickly to see Christian kneeling behind me. "I didn't want you to get cold while I was gone." My eyes closed as I kissed him on his soft lips, feeling his tongue gently snake it's way into my mouth. I smiled into the kiss and slowly pulled away. With my eyes still closed I told him to go before it was too late and we were too tired to eat. I watched him walk back through the entranceway and heard him enter the kitchen. I placed another log onto the fire and curled up with my blanket on the bearskin rug, and shut my eyes. When my eyes reopened, my flames were about to expire. I could hear Christian singing in the kitchen and the scent of apples engulfed me. I quietly placed another log in the fire and tiptoed my way past the stairs and down the hall to the kitchen. Christian either knew I had fallen asleep or thought I couldn't hear him. He never, ever sang. Not like this. I wish he would though, I loved his voice. "All that I am, all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes. They're all I can see, I don't know where, confused about how as well. I just know that these things will never change for us at all. I slipped into the kitchen and joined him. "If I lay here, if I just lay here." He stopped suddenly, embarrassed, and turned to face me. I walked to towards where he was standing, and he pulled me to him, wrapping himself around me. "Would you lie with me and just forget the world?" we both sang. "I love you Brianna." I looked up, into dark eyes that consumed my very being. His eyes captivated me. I grew weak for a moment but was supported by his arms. "I love you too, Christian." I regained my bearings and released myself from his arms and sat at the kitchen table. I looked over at him expectantly. "It's coming, Bree, relax!" "I'm hungry! All I had all day were these horrible cinnamon pancakes made from some gross batter that I found in the fridge," I mocked. "Well if you didn't like those then you're probably not going to like my apple-stuffed pork chops." My mouth watered. I watched as he pulled them from the oven, the smell was overwhelming. Apple-stuffed pork chops are one of the few foods I would love to eat every day for the rest of my life. They're delicious. But this was the first time Christian was making them. Nervous didn't begin to describe how I felt. Requiem He placed a stuffed pork chop on the plate in front of me and on his plate a few inches away. He brought over mashed potatoes and placed a generous helping on my plate, followed by string beans with sautéed onions. "When the hell did you learn to cook?" I asked, bewildered. In all my years of knowing him, I'd never seen him make more than a grilled cheese or a scrambled egg. "It's not that hard to follow a recipe, Bree." "Sorry. I didn't know you could read." Christian's laugh was infectious. Soon I was giggling. He sat down and looked at me as if he were going to explode. "I want you to try it first," he said nervously. "You're the food critic in the house." I eyed him up, a little insulted. I cut into the pork chop and took some of the apple stuffing on my fork. I could taste it on my tongue by scent alone. When I placed it in my mouth it was so good it was almost painful. "Christian, these are amazing!" "Really?!" His face lit up with excitement and a bit of relaxation. "Yes! Try!" The meal only lasted about another two minutes. It was so incredible and we were so hungry. "I'm never cooking again!" I exclaimed. "You're a better chef than I am." "I tried." "Well you definitely succeeded Chris." He rose from the table and began to collect the dishes from the table. "I'll meet you in the living room," I said quickly. I ran upstairs and put a CD of sappy love songs on. Christian usually hated them, but I could already hear his voice making it's way upstairs. He was singing along. "Hypocrite," I mumbled. I went back downstairs to the living room to find it was time for another log. I placed two more on just for fun and watched them slowly ignite. I curled back up into the blanket and closed my eyes, listening to the music, humming occasionally. "May I join you?" Christian asked, coming out of nowhere. I untucked myself from the blanket and lifted one side, allowing him access to slip in behind me. I heard his pants unzip, and felt his naked body slide next mine. "Lose the robe," he insisted. I allowed him to remove the robe from my body, and lay back as he tossed it to the nearby sofa. I could feel the rug warm beneath me. The heat and light of the fire warmed my skin and gave it a golden glow. Christian's naked body next to me was hotter than the fire. His eyes roamed what little of my body he could see, that wasn't covered by the blanket. His body inched closer to me as his lips pressed down on mine. My mouth opened to his, yielding to his rising passion. He maneuvered himself above me, pressing his hardness against me. I spread my legs beneath him to allow him access. "Not yet, baby." I looked at him suspiciously. "I promise you, you'll enjoy this." I sighed and closed my eyes as his lips reached for my neck. His mouth moved from my neck to my ears and back again, sucking and biting as his hands found their way to my breasts. His fingers traced circles around my nipples, moving further away and then closer again, but never making full contact. I writhed below him, trying to force his hands to fully grab my chest, but to no avail. He sat atop my knees to prevent me from moving so much. His hands slid down from my breasts to my stomach, massaging gently, running up and down the sides, memorizing the curve of my hips and my pelvis. His mouth followed the downward motion as finally my breasts received the attention they'd been begging for. His mouth kissed between my breasts before sweeping his tongue over each nipple. I shuddered softly at the sudden pleasure and whimpered for more. He continued to torture each side of me, going back and forth between each sensitive tip with teasing movements. Flicking them just so that my back would arch begging for more. He blew softly on each peak causing my body to tremble and have gooseflesh. His hands began to move upwards again, cupping my breasts, one hand continued traveling upward. Just as his finger tips wrapped around my nipple his mouth dove for the other one, suckling and nipping at it. I cried out beneath him, my hands gripping the bearskin under me. "Please baby, don't stop." His mouth attacked my other breast as his other hand continued the assault on my now damp peak. I shuddered as his free hand moved down my flat stomach in tiny circles. He gently tugged on my navel ring and continued his pursuit towards, what was a now, a very excited, extremely wet slit. But it didn't quite make it there. He stopped. Running his fingers all over the very sensitive area, massaging my inner thighs, even touching where my legs my most sensitive area, but never once touching me in an attempt to bring me off. I began crying beneath him, deriving so much pleasure out of this, but his persistent teasing was excruciating. "Tell me what you want, Bree." I whimpered softly before replying: "Please fuck me. I can't stand this anymore." He laughed softly as he spread my legs apart. I anticipated his entrance. He leaned over me and bit softly on my ear. "I will fuck you. I promise. But not yet. There are far too many other wonderful things I could do to this body of yours, and I intend on exploring each and every one of them." His lips went from my ear back to my breast. "Please do something. If I don't come soon I'll explode." Suddenly his hand was at my entrance, his fingers pressing against the length. "Funny," he whispered, "you're going to explode either way." With that, he thrust his fingers into me, and continued his loving assault on my breasts. It took seven thrusts of his fingers before I did explode. My body shuddered and thrust itself against him. My mind lost all control. I came so hard around his fingers, my body erupted into an animalistic scream, that made me thank God we were miles from civilization. My eyes closed so hard that tears streamed down my face. I felt as though I'd never come down from it. I kept coming. My sensitivity level had skyrocketed. I couldn't stop coming. My body was trapped in one constant orgasm, as Christian kept thrusting his fingers into me. My scream came to an end, but the tears continued. I was so relaxed that my orgasm had a complete grip on me, and refused to let go. He continued his thrusting as his mouth kissed and licked down my stomach. Christian paused a moment to inhale my scent. He emitted a low groan that was almost a growl and dove at my clit. I flooded him again. I came in short, gasping breaths, bucking against his mouth, begging him to suck my clit. He withdrew his fingers for a moment and licked the length of my slit before driving them back in and taking my nub between his lips. I shuddered again, my body completely tensing and then relaxing. He withdrew his fingers and slowly brought me down from an immense high. His tongue lapping at me, slowing, as my breathing returned to normal. His hands came to rest on my hips as he began to kiss and caress his way back up my smooth body. He slid his hands beneath me, sitting me up slightly, and began kissing my neck and chest. "I told you you'd enjoy it." "What about you?" "Don't worry... I'm not even close to done with you yet." "So I'm supposed to just lay back and take it?" I asked, looking down at his warm mouth on my breast. "If you like." "Guess what," I said annoyed. "I don't like." My legs wrapped around his body and I quickly turned and planted him firmly on his back. "Now baby, you know I like to be an active participant. I do not ever just sit back and take it." Christian simply nodded, his eyes closed, as his length pressed into me. "Not yet baby," I chirped. "You got to torture me and now it's my turn." I forewent the foreplay and dove right down. I suppose his torture of me was his own form of foreplay. He was already like granite. He moaned as I licked his glistening tip, his hand finding it's way and wrapping itself in my long, curly hair. I bathed him with my tongue, kissing, licking and nibbling up and down the rock hard length. "Baby, please," he whimpered. With one last flick of my tongue, I swallowed him. My nose was against his pelvis as his hips pressed up into my face. His length slid down my throat as I sucked on and swallowed every inch of him. My tongue ran up and down the underside of him, feeling him pulse with each movement of my mouth. With him still in my throat, I began moving up and down, painfully slow at first, and then with vigor. My tongue lashed against Christian's pulsing rod, as the head was continually entering and exiting my throat. "Keep going. Fuck. Please keep going." I didn't even have to move my mouth. Christian was moving in and out on his own. His hand gripped my hair tighter. I moaned at the sensations that Christian was causing throughout my body. Despite that this was supposed to be me repaying him, he still managed take over. Suddenly, he growled and shoved himself back down my throat as I felt his fluid enter me. I swallowed around him, moaning as he slowly pulled himself back. He pulsed two more times, letting me taste him. His grip on my hair loosened a bit but didn't completely release. He pulled on it gently bringing my up to his eye level. He wrapped his other arm around me and pulled me down upon his lips. The our juices mingled as our tongues caressed each other. We lay like that for a bit, our tongues exploring the others mouth, hands enjoying the feel of soft, bare skin. Our breathing slightly labored. I slid from atop his gorgeous body and spied that the fire was on it's way out yet again, though I was surprised it had actually lasted as long as it did. I got up and placed another log into the fire and returned to my place by his side. I rested my head on his chest and felt his hand begin it's patterns on my back. With my hand resting on the other side of his chest and my leg placed across his hips, I fell asleep in the comfort of his arms. "Baby." I awoke to Christian nudging me, and kissing my forehead. "What?" I mumbled. "Happy Anniversary." I shot up like a firecracker on the fourth of July. "What?" "I said 'Happy Anniversary.'" He looked at me as though I had three heads. Truth was I couldn't even tell you what this was the anniversary of. We got together in August, we weren't engaged, married or anything. "Huh?" "We moved in exactly six months ago today." Oops. "Is that was dinner was for?" I asked, cautiously. "That and it was your day off, I wanted you to completely relax." "You're amazing Christian. Did you know that?" "No but I have a beautiful girlfriend to remind me." "Hmm..." "What?" "At least you don't call me cute anymore." Christian erupted into laughter, causing me to giggle. The fire had dwindled to burning embers, the room was still warm. The embers caused an orange glow in the spacious room. As our laughter died down, Christian threw himself on top of me, mouth devouring mine. I kissed him back with feverish passion. I succumbed to his every whim. With each kiss he planted on my body I shuddered. Hands flew over each others bodies, feeling and memorizing every inch. With our arms around each other, our tongues wrapped in a kiss that made my soul shiver, Christian thrust into me. I was once again pleased to know we had no neighbors. They probably would have immediately called the police. Christian took me with a brutality I never knew he possessed. I screamed beneath him, thrusting back at him, begging for more. We moved all over the bearskin rug. Mostly he possessed me, except for the few rare times that I rode him, giving him a break from his exhausting efforts. It was during the last time riding him that we came together. He rolled me onto my back and thrust into me, possessing me once more, making his final point. I could feel him flow into me. He moaned with each spasm of my body, and released into me again and again, matching me perfectly. When we finally came down from our mutual orgasmic high, he pressed his forehead to mine and pulled the blanket over us. "That was amazing." "Christian... amazing doesn't even begin to describe that." "I'm not done with you yet," he said with hesitation. "I feel a big 'but' coming." I giggled as his hand snaked down to caress my hips and slid under me and grabbed my cheek. "Not too big," he snorted. "But, I think we need a little bit of rest before our next round." "Agreed." He shifted to put another log on the embers, and cuddled up next to me. We watched as the log caught fire, and slowly drifted off. Requiem I held my perspiring champagne glass while I observed the crowd at my gallery show in the wondrous city of New York. My eyes kept wandering back to the woman admiring my work while I sipped on my glass. She'd turn her head this way and that while digesting the painting in front of her, obviously intrigued and contemplating what it meant. The gallery and the crowd seemed to disappear as I continued to stare at this woman, and for the life of me I couldn't grasp as to why it was so. The music that was lingering in the background complemented the atmosphere of the event down to the last, grainy detail as my agent promised. I smiled to myself in light of that regard and lifted my gaze back to the beauty viewing my art but she seemed to have disappeared. I felt a tap on my shoulder when I was just starting to wonder and I turned to meet a pair of incredibly green eyes looking at me intently. I was a little startled and I think for some reason that flattered her because she glinted her eyes at me. I felt as though the ball was in my court so to speak, so I began the conversation as any decent person would. "What a shit show, hmm?" I said as I took another sip of champagne. "Really? I was starting to enjoy myself, actually." She retorted. I noted a sweet lilt of brogue in her voice that made her all the more captivating to me. And, it sounded like she had a relatively perky sense of humor, which I enjoyed as well. "Well, I suppose it's decent. I saw you admiring the artist's work." "Isn't that what you're supposed to do at a gallery, though?" She fired back with a little too much enthusiasm. Were her eyelashes fluttering or was that my wishful thinking? I put the blame on the alcohol for now and realized I was late on my reply that she was eagerly looking forward to. "Yes, yes, you're right. I've gathered that everyone else here has followed your lead-" "Yes, but not you." She said, her vowels lingering longer due to her heritage. "I was... simply observing." I flashed her a grin as I downed the rest of my glass, tilting my head back. "Simply observing or simply watching me?" I felt as though a hidden challenge laid in wait, begging to be met with vigor. I was stalling still, my jaw moving with no words coming out. It was humiliating at first, but then my calm, cool demeanor came back when I noticed her fingers that were holding her glass started sliding back and forth mingling with the beads of water. It was quite sexual, or at least I perceived it that way. "I was watching you, yes, but I had my reasons." I wanted to keep her guessing if she were truly that intrigued. Her pale skin seemed to glow when I revealed that to her. She moved the few strands of hair that fell in her eyes and tucked it behind her ear as she mentally begged me with her eyes to continue. "Reasons being that... I would like to know why you were so captivated by that painting." I cleared my throat and also tucked my hair behind my ear hoping in vain she didn't think I was mimicking her out of desperation for a quick flirt or something else that could insult her. There was just something about her that kept me talking. It could've been the accent but that would be picking petals off a flower if I equated her to that. I didn't know her at all but I felt as though I were remembering her, parts about her. The striking beauty she possessed, her green eyes that bore through me, her pale skin that glinted and gleamed like ivory under a soft light, the short-cropped raven hair that hung gracefully along her neck – it was all speaking volumes to me and the only thing I was lacking was a good translator; and she fit the bill perfectly in retrospect to the situation. "I am captivated by it still, in case you were wondering. I'm not too keen on, however, explaining the reasons to someone who can't appreciate art though." She retorted with earnest. I felt a tiny tremor of fear run through me at hearing that, it was as though she'd mistaken me for an asshole for stating what I said in a past tense. "Forgive me. I am grammatically correct most of the time, but it appears I missed a lot of important lessons on my sick days back in high school." I quoted 'sick days' with the universal hand gesture, and continued. "... But, I'm the artist so I was simply admiring someone who could understand what I tried to convey." Her slightly furrowed brows from earlier shifted to one of complete shock, then worry. She blinked a few times out of disorientation and looked back at me with an imploring look. I concluded to myself that when it dawned on her who I was, her sass took a back seat and it looked like she wanted to apologize. I like to play cat and mouse games so I decided to play and see where it lead. I needed a distraction to come and intervene and it was at that moment Billy Connoway, my agent, came to my aid when I rather heard his arrival than sensed it as I usually do. "Sherron! Jesus, girl, you're going to give me a heart attack if you don't start picking up your phone more often. Some clients from last week's interview are here to discuss some of your commission ideas and they're not exactly the type of people to keep waiting for twenty minutes if you catch my dri- Oh... hello there, I had no idea you had company." Billy said while extending his hand out to the art admirer of the evening. "Billy Connoway, or better known as my nickname, Casanova." He said with a little too much arrogance. His short-cropped blonde hair was slicked back, adding that fifties' era to his chiseled features. He was undressing her with his blue eyes, trailing up and down completely oblivious of how much of a typical man he was. I noted her eyes scrutinizing him after his introduction and I couldn't help but chuckle; he always managed to get every woman in Manhattan to hate him in less than thirty seconds of knowing him. "Veronica Sutherland, charmed." Said the vixen to my right with a hint of a sting to her words. Billy looked at me in response expecting me to reply in spite of her comment but I took my leave with him; partly due to keeping Ms. Sutherland intrigued with my departure and to not my piss my clients off for another minute longer. "On that note, Veronica, I'll see you around." Billy whispered with a sexual undertone and a wink. Veronica looked insulted and I scoffed at him. "Billy, I could only fathom how difficult it is to hold your composure when you get a hard-on every minute but there is an art to seduction and I don't think you've quite grasped the concept yet." I said with a hand on his shoulder. I gave him a gentle pat. Veronica snorted with some light laughter and I turned to her and gave her the most dazzling smile I could muster. Billy saluted her as he led me further out of sight. Right before I passed the wall that would close off my view of her, I saw that she was gazing at me in a longing manner. Although, her contrapposto stance was perfectly relaxed, it was her eyes that were revealing what her body language was hiding from me. I vowed to myself that I needed to find out more about her. It was not because of our immediate attraction to each other, not entirely, but it was something that I couldn't quite put my finger on – all I knew was that something was compelling me to find out. * * * * * * * "Ms. Fischer, I'll confess to you right now that I am your lucky man in that regard! Consider it expunged! Aha!" Mr. Morgan wheezed after taking a puff from his cigar. He was retorting to a comment I made about a certain misdemeanor that was never erased off my record a few years back. To my dismay, this discussion came to fruition because of a joke Billy said regarding having an indecent exposure charge on one's permanent record. The man blowing smoke in my face recently bought the oil painting I completed while I was in Europe for a week roughly five years ago. He walked up to me after I had met with my clients and told me what he thought the painting meant. After his explanation, I had no fear telling him that he was completely wrong, which then led him to argue about it. And that's when Billy chimed in with his crude joke about how I've been trying to pull my pants up for the past few years due to my hunger for the same sex. "You've been very helpful, Mr. Morgan, I never expected to befriend such a Samaritan at heart, for being a lawyer, that is." I concluded the small chat, shook his hand and wished him a farewell as my feet led me to the bar. I heard Billy's footsteps catching up to me as I tried to walk faster. "So, that went well." I turned around with a swivel of my heel and came to abrupt halt in front of him. "Which part? The part where you completely stripped me of dignity in front of a stranger with a fuck ton of strong ties to the press, or the part where I saved my own ass and sold him my painting? I loved that painting, Billy. There was a lot of meaning to it. I put too much emotion into that canvas for a pig of a man like that to brag and show it to all his moronic friends." I said in dismay. I passed the bartender a bill and in return he passed me a Gin and Tonic on a napkin. I stirred it with the straw, tossed the red piece of plastic aside and relished the cold, strong elixir after the first sip. It was definitely what I needed after that scene. "Alright, while you sit over here and pout, I'm going to find that Scottish tart. Did you see the way she looked at me?" He said with glee. "You mean when she looked like she was going to rip your dick off?" I retorted. "That is so not true! She wanted me. I could feel it! She said she was charmed to meet me anyway..." "That was sarcasm, Bill. Look, stupid-fight aside, thanks for the show. I enjoyed myself. You were spot on with how the event would turn out and I think the critics will leave some impressing reviews come next column of The NY Arts Magazine." I stood up out of the bar stool and let my Bistre brown hair fall loosely over my shoulders. After I gathered my drink and cigarettes, I threw Billy my car keys. "Oof! Well thanks a lot, Sher! That's splendid! Leave me out in the cold." He shrugged and pouted his bottom lip. I laughed as I was walking away, saying, "You know I love you, Bill. That is for picking up another bottle of that champagne served here tonight. Don't bother going to the back to fetch another, I tried. It seems that we are all quite the alcoholics because we had, ...that's past tense in case you're too inebriated to calculate that at the moment, fifty stored in the back room to serve approximately seventy-five people every ten minutes. Oh, and could you also pick up some Gouda and crackers? And don't forget the strawberries this time, Billy. You always do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go searching for a lucky four-leafed clover." All I could hear after that was the relaxed ambiance of the gallery so I assumed Billy caught his tongue in his throat for some odd reason. And I laughed even harder when I looked back at Billy to see he couldn't identify the reference to Veronica. "Are you really going to end your night with downing cheese with champagne alone in your room?" Billy said with obvious curiosity. "I'll be in company by the time I get to my room, that's why." I mentioned, albeit bluntly. "Hmm. Sounds intriguing. Are you ever going to let me come and watch?" Billy exclaimed with a demonic glint in his glazed eyes. "Is it even possible for you to not act like a total dog?" Anyone within a ten-foot radius would hear crystal clear what we were bickering about. "Fuck'n hell, Sher. I was just joking. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go fetch some cheese and club soda. I'll return these to you so you can manage to get your ass back home." Dangling the keys in front of me, he tossed them in the air and caught them midway. He turned, casually draped his coat over his shoulder and waltzed away. * * * * * * * I paused and digested my surroundings but I saw no sign of Veronica, so I gathered that she must have headed off home. What with all that had transpired through the night, I was finding it more and more difficult to accept that she wouldn't be single. There was this abundance of time to piece together this stranger that entered my life mere hours ago, but her enigmatic nature created a barrier I found difficult to hurtle over. My instinct, on the other hand, was telling me something completely different. I figured after I sit and contemplate about it for a few minutes I'd come up with a better solution than I was conceiving for the time being.  The cold, stillness of the air bit my skin as I hurriedly slipped my arms through the sleeves of my jacket. Lighting the cigarette I had tucked behind my ear, I tried refocusing my thoughts as the sounds of the city distracted me from all the worries on my mind. As I was leaning on the brick wall of the building, my thoughts reverted back to Veronica and how much of a mystery to me she was already. Why does she seem so familiar? She definitely looked as though she recognized me when I told her I was the artist... My thoughts were racing through my mind, colliding with one another, trying desperately to regain control and understand how I could know of this woman Veronica Sutherland. The sounds of the city once again seduced my senses and I found my ears drawn to the sounds first. I heard the screech and wail of tires against pavement, honking in the near distance, steam rising and ascending to cloud the night sky. I saw a few pigeons huddled on a power line, pecking at the snow still caped in random sections along the cable. It felt nice to walk into New York City again, as if being reborn immediately following my departure from the art show held in my name. I took another drag as I tried to rack my brain endlessly to find a connection somewhere to Veronica. Through Seattle? No, I'd remember her face. I always make a mental effort to remember faces rather than names; it's much easier in sticky situations, should there ever be one to occur. And, it's equally unlikely I'd ever forget her face... I felt my mind stalling again, and found my attention drawn to the café a block from my right, the neon sign outside the door showering the vicinity with a green glow. The hole in the wall coffee shop's sign above the front entrance was caked with frost, however, it was still legible. The sign read: CAFÉ DE VONÈTTE ROUX STORE HOURS: 8:30 AM - 12:00 MIDNIGHT, M – F. The bell above the door rang as three college students emerged from the warmth within, chatting to one another heatedly, adding their voices to the symphony of the city. I studied the sign again, my eyes skimming over the word... "Vonètte,..." As if speaking the word would somehow lift me from this spell of elusion, an image passed through my mind at lightning speed. Green hills surrounded by mystical mist, lakes, stone structures, cities and towns. A computer screen popped up inside my head, white light blaring black words: VON: babygirl, I'd love to be drawn... No, not Vonètte necessarily, but Von...Vonni? VONNI: I'll keep this image of us fo... The words blurred, the mist revealing a memory of five years ago in Amsterdam of myself leaning against a brick wall, clawing the rough surface in bliss as a beautiful Dutch woman's mouth turned my moans to howls on that chilly August night. I had been challenged to fulfill a friend's wish of wanting to try a hand at being an exhibitionist, so I hung around a few bars and clubs till I found a charming woman who seemed interested in one night stands, especially with foreign American women like myself. I told Von about the interesting ordeal a week later after Billy bailed me out, and how I have a case of "indecent exposure" forever on my record. My internet friend simply had written that she laughed and refused to believe I didn't enjoy myself because of the turn of events. I relented to tell her I only wish it were her I was being pleased by instead. Even now I could still picture the conversation with her, the tension of our heated discussion causing us both to lose inhibition. ... The laptop resting on my thighs thrummed to life as my heart was racing with the memory still fresh in my mind; the smell of jail still lingering, although it didn't bother me. I must tell Vonni! She's going to love this... The computer's display reflected blue light on the lens of my glasses and face, giving my surroundings an enigmatic aura. I rested my feet on my wooden writer's desk, crossed at the thighs, whilst waiting for the laptop to load I sifted through the mail. I was halfway through reading a letter written from my aunt, its contents revealing how cats due to a neighbor's inclination to hoarding were overrunning her apartment when a messenger popped on the screen. The box was blinking, beckoning, and begging to be answered. I felt a thrill as I read the sender's name. Vonni. I dragged the tip of my finger along the track pad and clicked on the messenger icon. A chime sounded her arrival. VONNI: You've been a busy bee haven't you? I felt my heart lurch. She knows...? At first I thought I was feeling fear build along my abdomen and down into my womb, but it was lust that was growing in my belly at an alarming rate. Vonni liked to emphasize her dominance, and I loved to acknowledge it. I licked my lips and began to type. How'd you know, love? (Vonni is typing...) VONNI: I know you quite well now, I'd say. We read each other's minds well enough on a daily basis. Tell me. Tell you what? I loved teasing her. It was like prolonging an orgasm. I could practically feel and hear her hiss of frustration, as well as the creeping smile on her. VONNI: NO TEASING TONIGHT. I will have a full explanation, darling. You mustn't strive to tick me off tonight, little dove. I would hate to make those delectable cheeks sting... or would I? I gulped the fine red wine, feeling my pulse skyrocketing; the hand that held the glass, shaking. I felt frozen as I watched the scene develop, the imagery vivid in my mind, fluttering with excitement... VONNI: Hmm... no response? That's all right. I'll make sure you feel your mistake in a little while. Do you feel your heart pounding? Feel it beneath your flesh? Goose prickles will dance along your limbs as I trace my fingers against your skin. My fingers climb to your chest, higher till the swell of your breast taunts me to squeeze it. A taut nipple scrapes against my palm, my fingers searching for it. To tease it. To make it even harder than it is now. Feel your tummy flutter, babygirl? Oh, I do. I typed. Slowly at first, then faster as I kept up pace with her creating the world for us both to experience tonight, as we provide every night since the day I met her a few months shy of a year ago. I decided to bury those ancient thoughts and reminisce of our intense moment together instead. VONNI: I let my tongue glide along your jaw, feeling you breathe unevenly, wild eyed. Twisting your nips.. Vonni, baby, please, you torture me... VONNI: Well, of course I torture you. That's what I long to do to you, babygirl. I know what you like. And, I know what I like. To keep you on the edge of pleasure and pain. You know where my fingers will crawl next, pray tell... Towards kitty. VONNI: ...yes, towards kitty. Feel my fingers trace your soft flesh, ever more downward... Yes, Vonni! Oh, yes... VONNI: Hmm... it's sticky around kitty. Have I spilled wine on your kitty? Now, that just must be cleaned up. What do you feel, Shereee? Tell me what you feel Vonni's fingers doing to you. I shivered and felt more wetness dribble along my thighs. I spread them apart wider, and looked down. My most private center was swollen, the flesh pink and glistening. I saw it pulsating, which lured my sight towards my clitoris, the star of tonight's show, I knew. We both seemed to have a fascination of my extraordinarily large clitoris, (she enjoyed calling it 'beany') and it was quite popular among our talks. Our conversations always had a sexual undertone, and we both didn't mind it. We enjoyed it immensely. Some nights called for bullshit girl-gossip, other nights called for something more carnal, something far richer in flavor. And there were nights where we spoke of love, of our love that seemed to blossom and bloom. The love that would last and linger beyond our graves, we'd say to each other. Requiem My scattered thoughts distracted me from our conversation, until I heard the endless pings of the messenger window informing me of Vonni's responses. VONNI: My lips are sucking your nip now. Your nipple is in my mouth, being sucked mercilessly. Lovingly. I felt my eyes roll as my fingers were drawn to the pulsing flesh sitting atop my mound. My fingers encircled her, rubbing the honey that leaked from my hole over her. I could grasp her between my thumb and forefinger, as I was doing in that moment. It was then that I replied to Vonni, with: ...I feel you stroking me.. VONNI: Mmmmm wanking beany. Feel how yummy she feels between my tips of my fingers. Feel me squeeze her, babygirl? Tighter? Holding her at base...- Oh, God, Vonni, my darling. I'm screaming in my body. Please... VONNI: My nose and lips resting on your neck, lips licking up towards your ear. Suck on your lobe, squeeze beany, kiss your neck; warm, wet, pulsing flesh gliding along soft skin. Feel me squeeze and stroke. Biting your throat. Squeezing kitty with my whole hand. Purring in your ear. Give me your honey, love... I felt tremors within my body, erupting with each touch of my excited member. She knew how naughty I was feeling. She knew how excited, shocked, and scared I'd been the first time I told her of what I possessed. I never thought of her to think of me as a freak, but I certainly never expected her to have such an interest in that part of my body. I started to move my fingers along it, feeling it drag along the digits, slippery. Vonni... begging you... finish me. VONNI: lips dragging down... I gasped. It always felt so real somehow... VONNI: colliding with wet, sticky flesh. Kissing your strip of hair, matted down with evidence of our passion. ...you smell so wonderfully. I kiss you again, only my lips feel something poking at them instead... I told myself there was no way I could withstand this. It was... naughty, hot, invigorating, unheard-of, just completely overwhelming. Referring to my clitty as she was... in this way.... It became too difficult to turn away from. I couldn't bring myself to tell her to stop. I longed for it. I needed it. I needed her. I pleaded, I begged: Oh, Vonni..please.. please! Take me in... I'm so gone... VONNI: I taste honey as I suck her inside, my cheeks hallowing with her girth. Nails digging in your thighs, bobbing head up and down, my greens glinting at you, imploring you to come for me. My tongue enveloping her within more deeply, drawing her in more and more, staring at you... I grunted and moaned at the friction of my fingers against my clit. I couldn't take it. I told her I was going to come. VONNI: Come for me babygirl... look in my eyes... LOOK AT ME. Oh, von... VONNI: LOOK AT ME, BABYGIRL. LOOK AT ME. LOOK AT HOW I LOVE YOU. Oh, ggod.... VONNI: GIVE IN TO ME. Moaning. Constant moaning, and shaking, sticky fingers prolonging my orgasm is all I felt and heard after that. I was blind from my orgasm, temporarily, and as I experienced it then, I experienced it now. The memory fleeing from me, my head clearing. Manhattan came back in view as my sight returned to me. I noticed my cigarette ashes had collected into a long grey stem, untouched from my recent memory overload. It was then that I realized that there was someone saying something behind me. I tossed the cigarette butt and turned towards the sound. The street lamp above the gallery's door revealed Veronica emerging from the other side, smiling at me as though she knew my secret. Only, it wasn't a secret any longer... This was the secret admirer I had, who once I was in love with. My heart contradicted my feelings for her, seeing her now in my presence, too amazed and overawed that the person I presumed to never meet in my lifetime was standing near feet from me. "Vonni...it's been so long." It was the beginning of a very, very long story and there didn't appear to be an ending anywhere in sight. * * * * * * * * "I... you know it's me?" She said in a confused tone. "I realized it about ten seconds before you walked out that door. And, the gears started turning when I saw this woman who matched your description admiring that painting I created for you in the first place. We never shared photographs of ourselves except how we looked years earlier in the pictures provided, old hairstyles and all. Your hair is shorter." I couldn't stop staring at her. It was too surreal to not believe this was actually happening. I wanted to pinch myself. Veronica let the front door of the building slip from her fingers, the hinges whining then quieting. She walked herself to the railing I was leaning my leg against, grabbing it for support as she turned towards me again. For one instant I was certain she would kiss me, the time seemed to be standing still, even the snow fell a fraction slower than it normally would have. And, then, the moment passed. The hand I assumed she would lift towards my face to caress with was holding a pack of Marlboro Red cigarettes instead; the top flipped open with two sticks poking out amongst the tightly packed tobacco. Her eyes lifted to my own and met my gaze. A charming smile formed on her lips as she plucked one of the packed cigarettes, placed it between her lips and said, "Got a light?" "Only if you'll be so kind to let me light yours for you." My fingers felt around for the cool steel Zippo windproof lighter that was nestled in my jacket pocket. The flame brought a scarce amount of warmth, albeit it was a welcome blessing. I covered the flame as Veronica's face appeared, her cigarette's tip turning to a cherry red ember. I mused to myself it looked like I was cradling her face in my hands. I kept the thought to myself at the moment though. Too early for reminiscing those times. Her fingers were nimble and quick as she plucked the second cigarette from the pack and placed it between my lips. The pinky finger of her hand lingered along my bottom lip long enough to inform me it wasn't coincidental. Hazel eyes met green ones, boring into incredible depths and sizing one another up as the snow continued to fall at an ever-slower rate. My heart lurched at the sight of her in front of me after such a long hiatus. The tip of her nose was pink, as was her cheeks as I followed the trail of capillaries along her chilled skin. She hadn't been outside for long, however, that did not deter the weather to rest a snow-fallen crown atop her dark hair. The beauty of the sight took my breath away, but I quickly averted my eyes to across the street where a slight traffic jam began to occur. I raised the cigarette to my lips, inhaled, and released it into the night air. I waited until the smoke dissolved completely before I continued the dialogue further. "Five years and you've flown several thousand miles to New York City within that time frame, managed to walk into my gallery out of hundreds along this stretch Greenwich Village, and came to tell me... what? You don't believe in coincidence anymore? That would be a step headed in the right direction." Her expression did not change but softened, a troubled furrow in her brow. "Sher, I know I wronged you-" "That was a long time ago, Vonni. Ancient history now." I didn't want the conversation to venture down such a dark path so early on in our first meeting... but this was our first meeting. And five years had passed since that night, the memory resurfaced in my mind and I forced it out to clear my thoughts. "Just so... I just wanted to tell you that I saw your opening in the New York Arts Magazine and it compelled me to walk my white bum over here to see you! My heart fell to my stomach when I saw your photo in that column. Time froze for me. And it took a heartbeat for me to figure out what to do next." She fanned out her hands in opposite directions as if to say Now I'm here. I took a drag off my cigarette and continued to look at her, digesting her words. "And somehow five years became a heartbeat." "Babygirl, please, listen to me, ju-" "Five. Years..." I said it quickly and I felt it cut through the air like a knife. All the pent-up anger and frustration towards Veronica all came bubbling to the surface. I wouldn't doubt it if steam were rising from my head either. My breath causing clouds to form in the chilled air, I resumed the conversation. "...I thought you were dead the first few months." I looked off again to my right to catch the street light changing. Passerby's were passing by, and the smells of a delicatessen a block away were invading my concentration of thought. I heard her sigh behind me as silence enveloped us for a short moment. The silence grew too heavy for Vonni, though. "I'm so sorry for putting you through that. Please, you must know I never meant to cause... I never meant to make things worse for you. You know that don't you?" I felt warm tears streak down my face, although the agony and pain that had once adorned my face along with fresh tears was long exhausted now. I closed my eyes and spoke while watching the falling snow, my eyes transfixed on each unique snowflake. "When I met you, it was the armor that you wore that drew my attention to you. How it molded to your skin; a perfect fit. I wanted to see you without it, after having getting to know you through the first months of knowing each other. I strived to release you from that bond..." My voice softened on the last word, willing myself not to lose composure in front of her; I wanted to make her understand. I wanted her to understand what exactly she put me through... but it was so difficult to relieve such memories! "And, then we fell in love. Your boyfriend came back in your life, I was just a pen pal whose brain you picked whenever you found the time to be convenient for you. You played with my heart, stole it from me, and replaced that armor I worked so long to remove from your body... onto my own. You took my heart, was swooned off your feet by your boyfriend, and just... disappeared." I heard a pained sound and realized she had her head in her hands, shaking it back and forth. Finally reemerging from within its confines, she flailed her arms, exasperated, "We met online! Did you honestly expect us to have a life together because we fell in love? What we had, Sher...? It's just... I've moved on in my life. I have a loving husband and we-" I couldn't control the anger... all that anger! It rushed out of me, kicking and screaming. "So it wasn't love?" I questioned her, my voice thick with disdain. Her eyes were wild and pink-rimmed. The emerald depths pleading for me to hear her out. Completely. "In my own way, of course I di-" "Like how you perceive women? Playthings?" I shot back to end what she was about to say prematurely. I would not hear it again. In her own way. I shit in my own way, how about that, Vonni? Her bottom lip trembled, her eyes cast downward towards the pavement. "Babygirl, please... I just wanted to talk." "And, now we're talking." I looked at her, the streaks from the salty tears glistening when I turned my body towards her, capturing her full attention. "I was the only person to enter your life who you knew to have experienced traumatic events. And, it's because of that I concluded to myself that you hated me, disliked me, and didn't want anything to do with me. You wanted to be rid of me. You just couldn't handle the responsibility weighing over your head to check up on me, that it wasn't your job or duty to do so... It's very difficult to convince yourself that the truth you worked so hard to burn in the back of your skull is actually, quite simply, not true. Wouldn't you agree, Vonni?" New tears followed old tracks down my cheeks. I blinked them away, and wiped the remnants. I grabbed the railing, took a deep breath, and continued, "I don't know, Veronica. I don't. I don't know anything. Ever since you entered my life, I've been inside such a deep hole. The same one I dug ever deeper, on hands and feet, as I'd spill my life's story to you. Every word for another handful of dirt. Because you never let yourself be truly known to me. You never let me in. I gave myself to you, willingly..." I choked back the pain I felt rising within me. Every time one of my friends poked and prodded me with details about the mysterious love of my life, it always ended in tears. It ended in tears because I hated how much I loved her, even after the pain had numbed. "You cant just do that! Walk into someone's life, make them care, and leave!" The tears were coming in streams now. It was all ending so badly. Why was this going so terribly wrong? Veronica's hand had found its way to my shoulder, squeezing it gently and brushing a thumb over the folds of the fabric of my jacket. I shrugged it off. "No! Vonni... this wasn't... I was never expecting you to... God.... Fuck! This isn't fair!" I raised my voice, kicking ice over the raised platform of the railing. "Sher, I'm so sorry. Please, listen to me. You know I still care for you." I swallowed and licked my lips, tasting the salt of my tears. My head shook slowly from side to side, barely speaking above a whisper. "I'm not words on a screen, I'm a human being. I feel and hurt just like you. If you pierce my flesh with a sharp edge, I'll bleed. You treated me like a fantasy in a bubble, Vonni. That's all I was to you-" Her face was mere inches away from mine, her fingers grasping the material of my jacket's sleeves, tugging and pulling them. I noticed her eyes first. There was tenacity in them I couldn't put my finger on. "Listen to me, damn it, Sherron!" She shook me for good measure, holding tightly, never breaking our eye contact. "If you knew how much of a monster I've felt for putting you in the place I have, you'd know I was being sincere." A tear escaped her left eye, which caused her lip tremble as well. "Please, sweetheart. Look at me." My eyes lingered on the bland brick wall behind her, and then to her green eyes that were begging still to be heard. She drew a shaky breath and continued, gently squeezing my shoulders as well. "I do love you. I always will. But, he's in my life now. And, I stand by him." Her eyes kept begging, searching my hazel depths, prying for any feeling or understanding there. My hands closed around both of hers and gently placed them back at her sides. The tips of her fingers were still touching my hands as I drew away from her. "But don't you see. Don't you understand? I do... I understand where you are in life. I know when you fell in love with him, that wasn't the first time you fell in love. And, I know when you fell in love with me, it wasn't the second time either. But, I do know there are different kinds of feelings associated with love. There is love that is spoken of in different contexts. I've fallen in love once before. Death took her away from me." I turned away from her and started down the paved steps. My footsteps ringing out, echoing along the alleyway and out into the street. I turned back to her, looking at her for the last time for tonight. A strand of her hair had fallen into her eyes, hiding a green orb from me. She looked so sad. She looked like I do, every day what I hide from the world since she left me alone for so many years. "And I promised myself that I'd rather die than to feel as high as I did with her. I vowed to myself I would never fall in love again. I was wrought with grief, and you came along. Made me feel again. You reminded me what my past love kept screaming at me from the grave. And, with that you inspired me. I thought of you as much of a luminary like Marilyn Monroe. You both are so similar. The world sees you for something they made their own; an image of beauty beyond caliber. On the inside, however, is the heart of a poet, a strong woman who possesses a hunger to learn. To love. " My own bottom lip began to jog as the words fell from my mouth. A silence erupted once more after that, but it was somehow more comfortable than stressed as it was near ten minutes ago. Vonni was staring at me again, in the same manner that I left her in when Billy came to fetch me off to the clients. I saw the same need in her eyes. The searching that was in them before was still there, lingering in the background... "I loved you with all the strength I had, because you and Fem reminded me that love should hold no boundaries, nor would it be hindered by such. Even with being so far away from you, having limited means to reach you and having met you through those same means... love lasted. I'm cursed with this. To love you. To always love you. Because... you saved me from myself when I saw no hope in surviving it." I licked my lips again, my eyes falling to the ground again. The weight of her silence still hung in the air like heavy rain clouds, but I didn't let that scare me. I knew she was just processing what I said. It's what she did whenever we spoke in long intervals, about how we loved each other. Every word spoken was poetic, so she'd take her time reading and digest what I would write to her in reply. I looked up again and saw that she was crying now. Her brow was drawn inward, showing a look of pain. Agony washed across her features. She frowned again as she looked in my eyes, mouthing the words I'm sorry... so sorry every few seconds. I had dragged this on long enough. Time to end this butchery of a reunion. I was so sad, I wanted to fall down and weep. I was so hurt, I wanted to lash out at her and yell. I was so deeply ashamed for making her feel as low as I did; I wanted to beat myself bloody. In the end, I felt every known feeling to the human body and longed to feel numb. "Sher.." "I admire you. I always have. I wanted this to turn out differently. I wanted to give you a hug and hold you until you asked me to let go. And, I wanted you to wish me a happy birthday, but I knew that was wishful-" "Oh shite, babygirl, I'm such an idiot! I knew it was your birthday, honestly, I remember it was late April, your birthday. Honestly, babygirl!" She said hurriedly. I looked at her, smiled, and sighed. "I believe you. Just answer another question that's been bugging me tonight, if you could, Veronica." "Of course. What is it, babygirl?" Veronica looked as though she'd give her left limb to see me smile again in that instant. "Why are you here?" It was a simple question. The answer, however, I was not expecting. "Dylan and I moved here six months ago..." She saw the shock in my eyes, and tightened her jaw. "I didn't know you lived here before we... came over. It's not like we had wooden signs that said 'Stay off my land!' for fuck's sake! We just moved here to..." Her expression turned to worry. "We moved here to get away from some things back home, have a new change of scenery. I know I said I never was a hustle and bustle type of city girl, but it sort of grew on me." She tried to smile, but it was a weak one. And, nothing could turn my frown upside down when she revealed the pink elephant in the room. Or, I should say outside. I was finally numb. All the bricks that could've been thrown at my head were now thrown. And they all hit their mark. She lives here now. Now she'll want to be friends again since we live in such short distance of one another. She is my neighbor now. Images of us both fucking, moaning, shivering, convulsing raced in my mind. Her nails raking my back, drawing blood... "I have to go." We both stared; Veronica jolting herself back to sobriety from the toxic, choked-up mix of emotions experienced moments before. She composed herself in a weak fashion, looking more insecure than ever I had the displeasure of seeing. I wanted to run to her and wrap my arms around her neck. To whisper to her that she was safe, that she was loved, that I loved her. I do love her, though. Requiem "Oh..." "Since we're neighbors, we'll... We will see each other around, wont we?" I asked earnestly. I truly wanted to know what she wanted. It could've been my emotions playing tricks on me, my brain-induced mirages of subliminal messaging in absolutely everything I see on a daily note... but I felt the tension that I always felt whenever Veronica and I would start our sessions. That vibration that thrummed and lingered, on and on and on like a heartbeat was palpable. I looked into her eyes again and noted to myself that they had indeed darkened: we were both aroused. The only thing that made sense to me at that moment, or I at least convinced myself to believe was that the pent up anger I had stored for Veronica, saving it for a prime moment such as what just occurred – Veronica felt as well, only with passion and longing. Pent-up longing to kiss someone. To nurture them. And it was also then, looking at her like that under the street lamp, the snowflakes falling from her rosy cheeks, and those that failed melted or dispersed into steam, it was then I realized underneath all the anger I had, passion and longing lingered there as well. They were both cousins down in that darkness, as people as a whole are all brothers and sisters in death, once they got there. I remembered to breathe. Keeping my gaze on the woman in my sights, I walked towards her. Her eyes followed, nervously trailing after me, so many emotions flickering over her features. I inched towards her, my boots climbing the paved steps till they rested a step below her own. I could feel her heartbeat, palpitating at an alarming rate. Still, her composure and posture endured. "I love you, Veronica." And, I leaned in and kissed her on the lips. She didn't flinch. She didn't hit me. She didn't cringe or back away. She just stood there; her eyes unclosed still looking at my own. My eyes were shut, my heart hammering in my chest. But I could feel her eyes on me. I could feel her lips on my own and I told myself to not move my lips. No matter how much I ached to. I felt hot air fall from her nose onto my lips and opened my eyes halfway. Green eyes met my hazel ones. Time stood still again, the snow moving like molasses. It was then I felt her lips move and I felt something wet and warm. Her lips closed over my own and her tongue mingled, prying my mouth apart. Her eyes glinted as the heat of our mouths intertwined and I sucked her tongue in. Her moan made my eyes roll and shut, and then we were kissing fiercely, our lips smacking, our tongues searching. The snow falling around us cocooned our bodies as we continued to kiss. I felt her hands in my hair, dragging and pulling. I crossed my arms around and over her neck and we continued like this for how long I do not know. The streets grew quiet, the traffic long dispersed and gone, there was not another living soul except us. The stillness of the air brought us back to reality, and I felt my lips part from hers with a sweet, soft, audible smack. "Babygirl..." Veronica began to say, fingering my lip with her thumb, caressing the half of my face with the rest of her hand and fingers. "Goodnight, Vonnisweet." I breathed onto her lips, faintly touching them as I spoke. I turned and walked down the back alleyway towards the BMW Billy parked beside the Italian take-out restaurant I ordered from whenever I grew tired of the long lines at the seafood market. He managed to get the cheese, crackers, and champagne in one fell swoop and tossed me my keys before I left the gallery after my second Gin and Tonic only thirty minutes ago, but now it felt like hours. I kept walking, my whole body alive and warm. My lips were tingling; red and plump from their workout with Vonni's own lips. That was our first kiss. That magical kiss. I heard the door to the gallery part and close, the muted sounds of the alleyway and street interrupted by the ruckus inside the building. Closing my eyes once more, I exhaled, realizing too late in was a sigh in the making. I fumbled with my keys. The cars emergency lights flashed ten yards away, the interior lights dawning on like a morning sunrise. I grasped my hand around the handle, opened the door and seated myself in the driver's seat, closing the door once buckled. The ignition chimed on after inserting the fob and a crisp note of a violin pierced the silence of the ambiance of my sedan. Putting the car in reverse, I turned my head, grasping the passenger seat with my right hand, driving and maneuvering with my left. As the tires brought me further and further away from the gallery and closer to the intersection, only one thought kept floating around my mind. Insistent, like a bug. Like a busy bee. She kissed me. I would like to thank the community of Literotica for allowing me to post this story, as I've been wanting to for awhile now! This is the first part of a long installment that I suspect will last till a part III or IV at the most. I will be posting part II of Requiem soon, once I am finished writing the bonus chapters of some other characters vital to the story. If you have any questions, please feel free to comment and leave feedback. I look forward to bringing you more in the upcoming days. ^^-TA_S Requiem: A Love Story Beneath the requiem lies eloquent verses; its tenants transgress while in mourning. Yet bequeathed of its passerby’s there are dormant cries that echo. I am there among them. We envision plains and grains of gold dancing westward into the receiving winds. We can hear thunder of past and present as they come together in a splendid display of courage and contradiction. Of these people’s misgivings- the forthcoming events surpassed the very foundation of their imaginations. And to this day we cannot look passed yesterday’s festering lesions to find our way to tomorrow. I have taken many appropriate steps to confuse what is right and what is wrong. These harbored thoughts are what bring me to this place. My shallow intellect is bounded with crazed lunatics that seem to know my name wherever I go. And there are misguided factions bartering for my insanity; they somehow embrace me as one of their own. And contained within the very essence of her being were constellations of stars that glimmer and hold me enslaved to their passion. I see them when I awake in the morning and I clamor to them without question or hesitation in the eve. And within her there are prepubescent ideals that shriek innocence. Yet they swell within her womb and breed maturity, intelligence and pride. Her brood manufactures hurtful truths, yet waning is my belief that they are not real or they will one-day fall wayside. Ode to the sharp cinnamon-apple taste of her skin that lingered forever and fatefully on the tip of my tongue. It began with the mere mention of sex and its aroma wafted fruitfully toward my inflamed nostrils until it ripened and pierced my heart. Denying the aforementioned sentiments is an affront to the words destiny and fate. I would die, neigh give the very last beat of my heart to undo what has been done. To digress, it is electricity- one hundred million volts pounding and coursing through cold hardened veins. In its simplest forms it is raw and untreated. Yet complexity forces me into the realization that fault lies somewhere deep within mine own self. “I love you Tessa.” I spake as I caressed her cream colored shoulder and drank in her breath. Her eyes closed briefly. This very action instilled upon me the truth that I have known all along. Her head dropped partially in shame, partially in a loss for words. Her rose colored cheeks faded and then her eyes opened. Upon the edge of the woodlands we gathered imagining shaped clouds of colorless folds- unbounded in riches and unfettered by ideas. Tessa looked at me and then quickly looked away. I could hear her breathe; I could see her heartbeat. “We believe what we want to believe.” She whispered softly before she blanketed herself. “I think you have always known that.” Seven years collected in memory- where delusions rise to the surface and hold me condemned to die by my own thoughts, my own feelings, my love. I still remember those words as if they were being spoken at this very moment through her raspberry pouted lips. “I think you have always known that.” I have. Even now there are doubts hanging, lingering as if I had not put my entire existence into her happiness. Begrudged heart separated from how it all began. I slowly came to the realization that it was out of my hands. “I do love you.” I reiterated my stance. To be shunned and castrated from your life-love demanded more than just soft words and idle threats. Yet I still cling to inane attempts at saving face or dreams “I love you,”- how foolish that must sound to the strong and the bold. “I love you,”- yes goddamn you, I wish I had never spoken those words. I found myself smiling with embarrassment and humiliation. Yet I still dream- even now- there are no escapes from my prison. I am forced to move forward and never, ever look back. For my passions are not lighthearted in nature, neither are they lacking in enthusiasm. And for those of you that dismiss my endeavors with not so much as an acknowledgement, I say to you, we are of one body and one soul bounded throughout eternity. I still grow tired reasoning- for we are what we are, nothing less and certainly nothing more. We the pathetic, the loathsome that come together in a place and time that is neither recognized nor damned by God. I reach out my hand heavenward and touch his fingertips before I realize that there are only judges and sacrificial lambs brought to slaughter. “We believe what we want to believe.” My Tessa said, reiterating her position. O’er the lands scope and horizons there were tall foliage scraping past the plains of grain and gold. They danced together in unison as if they were claiming the universe as their own. Beseeched of bountiful graces I am lacking in imagination, yet this plant life cursed at me as if I trespassed against it. I am a fool- I am seven years less- less being, less capable, less me. The masterful willow spat at me; I knew I was defeated. That was the very last time that I saw my Tessa. Ode to the apple-cinnamon taste of her skin. Ode to what once made me complete. So you see… I have taken many appropriate steps to confuse what is right and what is wrong. These harbored thoughts are what bring me to this place. My shallow intellect is bounded with crazed lunatics that seem to know my name wherever I go. And there are misguided factions bartering for my insanity; they somehow embrace me as one of their own. Dreaming these dreams of madness can be wearisome at times. My utterance of help is barely audible to the nurse as she hands me the white colored capsule. She cannot begin to comprehend what it means to be half a person- half a man. Seven years forgot, still staring at these four padded walls. I will miss you Tessa.