****** The Night by thisold1 ******
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The Night


WARNING: For those perverted males who want graphic action, please hit the back
button, you will not like this story. This story is aimed at the more romantic
female who comes to White Shadows site; I hope at least one of them will enjoy
the following story.


For so many years I had dreaded the night. Strange, horrible monsters had to be
there, waiting to devour me in my passing. They loomed outside my window,
making me think there were Satanic helpers who posed with outstretched arms to
reach in and grab me. To me the night offered nothing of romance, and a dark
one needed to pass into the safety of sleep. This night changed all that.

He had told me he would show me a magic I had never known if, only this one
time, I would follow him into the night. Now, upon a hillside I sat by him upon
a blanket spread out over the fragrant grasses, as dew, as if sent from the
full moon far above, painted each blade a silvery, shinning color.

I could see no real magic and kept looking around to find the monsters and wild
animals that had to be only waiting the right moment to attack. I could feel
his closeness as I looked up, trying vainly for a minute or two to count each
and every star.

"Look up there," his whispered words startled me, "see the Big Dipper?" My eyes
followed his fingers and soon I was looking at stars that did look as if
someone from long ago had lost a dipper that, one day, evaporated to become
these tiny pin-points of light. "Look up the handle," he whispered as the wind
played in my hair, "see the double stars?"

It took me a few seconds to find the objects but, as my eyes took in the
handle, the faint light of a star, cast just beside one much brighter, popped
out at me as if by magic.

"I never seen that before," I offered, sliding even closer to him.

His arm went around my shoulder as my eyes moved from star to star then, as he
pulled me closer, I turned to stare deep into his eyes. Seldom had a man looked
so deeply in my eyes; seldom would I have allowed anyone to look as deep as
this man was.

"Scared?" He asked, his lips coming closer and closer to mine. "Think a monster
is going to leap out and get you?"

His arms went around my neck and our lips touched softly as the cry of an owl
sang from a wooded area off to our left. I felt his lips move over mine as he
pulled me even closer to the warmth of his body.

"I think a monster did just reach out and hold me," I giggled, not knowing what
else to say, and feeling that I had to say something.

I leaned back, putting my hands on the quilt as his eyes continued to invade my
soul. "You'd really think I was monster if you knew what I was thinking," he
chuckled, lying down beside me on the quilt.

"What is that? That you want to kidnap me and take me off to some secret
island?"

"No. Not really. Just lay here and hold you and touch you."

I looked down at him, his eyes shinning softly in the moonlight as he now cast
his gaze from star to star, but I knew his mind was reaching out to me in a way
I had never learnt how to respond to.

"Why do you like the night?" I asked, breaking his gaze at the stars when he
sat up beside me.

"Because," he started, his left arm going over my shoulder, pulling me closer,
"I can hide from all the real monster that you see in the daylight."

I felt his right hand cup my cheek, slowly pulling me closer until our lips
were again locked deeply in our nocturnal kiss. I moaned out, loudly as the
hand moved from my lips to my throat. I felt my heartbeat pounding in my throat
as fingertips moved on down and over the cloth of my blouse until he cupped my
left breast as if it were only too breakable.

"Magic?" I asked, laying myself back to the quilt.

"No, just my hand on your boob," he chuckled as he lay down on his left side,
his right hand reaching out to caress my breast again.

"You are so strange," I offered, my hand coming to rest on his as he massaged
my breast through the material. "I expected you to throw me to the bed and-
Well, you know how it goes."

"Is that what you want?" His question taunting at my mind as I felt his fingers
start to undo my blouse.

"No," I whispered, remembering the others, all unlike him in some odd way,
doing just that: Throwing me to the bed and hammering into me until THEY we
done, leaving me to wonder if there wasn't more.

Her spread the blouse open, revealing my white bra to the moonlight. The bra
glowed in a whitish-blue cast. I caught myself looking down at the twin mounds
as the moonbeams kissed faintly over the silky material.

Closing my eyes as his head descended to the tops of the twin mounds, I felt
him take first the right breast, clad in its armor, into his lips, then
massaging at it deeply before moving to the now eagerly awaiting left nipple.

No one had ever done this. Everyone else had acted like my bra was little more
than something to discard as they raced to plant a couple hot kisses on my
nipples and move on to what they thought I needed most. My body and mind had
cried out for them to worship my breasts with their lips, but they never took
the time to hear. Now, as the moon smiled down, this man was not asking but
showing me what it was like to be worshipped.

I arched my back, reached behind myself and undid the bra as his body moved
with me, his lips never stopping their deep massage, a massage now reaching
into me and screaming to me to let go.

"I'm glad you did that, Babe," he chuckled as the bra was pushed up off my
waiting breasts.

"Why?" I questioned as he just lay there and looked at my breast as if they
were some special gift.

"Because I seem to have developed ten thumbs right now."

"Its not the fingers I am thinking about," I laughed, knowing he was very much
like most men when it came to bra snaps and being turned on. "I have better
ideas," I moaned as I pushed his head back to my breasts.

I felt his hot lips on my very erect nipple, sucking, teasing and lighting a
fire deep in me that could only consume the fears of the night, men and life in
general. The wind, playing in the tall grasses, reach out and played over the
other nipple in its passing. It felt good, his hot lips on one nipple, and the
coolness of the night playing over the other. Here was magic.

His fingers found the fasteners to my pants as his lips and tongue continued to
worship my breasts. I had to giggle as he quickly proved that he was very able
to prove that his fingers had now, as if by the magic of lust, turned into ten
thumbs. After a few giggles he did manage to undo my pants without any physical
harm to him, me or my pants, and slowly slid them down off my hips.

Fingertips played just under the elastic of my panties as his eyes, now looking
as two warm stars before me, touched a part of me I had dreaded to let anyone
ever touch. Never before had I wanted a man like this.

Never before had all the love songs crashed together in my head as when his
hand, changing me from the girl he had met into this woman he took into the
night, slipped deep into my panties and his lips cast the softest of kisses I
had ever known on my lips.

Kiss to kiss, giggle to giggle and from one moan to the next, he took the time
to build the fires of my body and mind into an infernal I knew would never die.
A flame of endless need now burnt in my mind as my chest pushed up to suck in
even more of the cool, night air that I would never fear again.

My lips sang out songs of lusty needs to the night sky as stars sung back their
lovers lullaby. Hips lips tortured me into becoming even more me as his fingers
taught me of the boundless need I was about to share with him. Lips and
fingers, the touch of magic as they cast us away from the world for but this
night

Slowly I became naked to him and his beloved night as his lips cast spells of
magic upon my body and mind. One minute his eyes kissing into mine and, the
next instant, his lips kissingly exploring a new part of my body until, with a
shrill, whispered moan, I felt his lips touch where I had never thought lips
could create such feelings.

My hands touched his head as he taught me this most unearthly of all that was
magic. Kiss by kiss, and fingertip by fingertip he helped me sing my first love
song from my heart.

In an instant of deep kisses, the universe exploded, carrying my mind upon a
hotly burning cloud of lust. I could hear my voice gasping for him to never
stop as my body arched out to learn even more from this book of magic he seemed
to hide behind his eyes.

For long moments I lay on the quilt as his fingertips brushed softly on the
cheeks of my face. I kissed fingertips as they touched my lips, casting but the
warning of the memories we were casting in the moonlight. Far above, a solitary
blinking light of a jet airliner, leaving a ghostly trail of white in its
passing, winked down to me from between the faintly glowing wingtip lights.

The far away, haunting sound of a train's whistle, carried on this night's
wind, was cast as a warning to some lonely, country crossing that would not
have anyone there to heed its warming. The train was entering the night as
surely as this strange man was now entering me and, as I pulled him closer to
me, I wondered if I would be able to let go of him when the first light of dawn
overtook us and the train.

As the moon sung down to us, and fireflies danced to their own passionate
needs, he became me as I became him. Our words blended with clouds, moonlight
and the heart of the other. No longer created by lusty needs, we had now
created something which went far beyond wants and needs, now we were quickly,
moan by moan, and gasp by gasp, blending our bodies to become but one thought
that, in our cries of ending, were cast to the night upon softly whispering
breezes.

A bird's morning welcoming song touched my thoughts as I lay on the quilt, my
eyes now seeing the stars as less a science and more a magic created for just
such moments that we had just explored. The bird, singing to the tiny slit of
light peeking over the eastern horizon, knew more about life than I did until
this night.

I sat up beside my lover, the dull glow from the cigarette hanging motionlessly
from his left hand as he draped his arms over his bent knees. "What are you
thinking?" I whispered to him as if I were afraid I might disturb the oncoming
creation of another new day.

"Life cannot be long enough to tell you what I feel," he whispered, looking
westward to the setting moon, hanging just above the distant tree line of still
darkened woods. "You are her song."

"Why do you do this to me?" I asked, our naked bodies touching the other's
warmth as other birds woke up and added their songs to the damning day. "Are
you going to be gone now? Will I ever see you again?"

"Close your eyes," he whispered turning to me. I closed them tightly as his
fingers again played on my cheeks. "What do you see?"

"Us," I whispered back airily. "I see us here."

He never spoke a reply as we slowly dressed and headed back to the old
farmhouse where my mother and father still slept, unaware of the magic a young
soldier, wearing his green beret so proudly, had taught their young daughter.

This is the memory that has haunted my dreams from that night forward. One day
I knew how to live by closing my eyes and being with him for, less than six
months later, this shy boy from the mid-west, proudly wearing his green beret,
cast his soul to the universe from a hill in Vietnam, a hill hotly contested by
two thugs trying to prove themselves the better. It had been a mortar round
that had ended his too short a life. A mortar round, maybe made by a woman who
also had a loved one she feared for, that had caught him, carrying a wounded
buddy to safety.

But, even today, as I stand here to see his daughter- my daughter- OUR
DAUGHTER, hold softly onto the hand of a man so much like he had been and say
in whispered words, "I do," I know that, on a black, shiny wall in Washington
my man of magic sheds a tear of joy.

When I still have to cry for him, I go out and sit at night and cast my tears
to the stars and the moon, to the Big Dipper and those two double stars that
are him and I. Yes, he taught me magic on that night so long ago, and he taught
me to pronounce it as "love" as this eternal fire burns deep in my breasts,
just as an eternal flame burns in the quiet nights on a grassy place watered by
the tears of too many who remember the too many names on those black, shinny
stones.

thisold1@hotmail.com

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