The sky is velvet tonight. A mix of browns, purples and mauves mingle on the hazy cloud cover that rests seemingly just above my head. The air, thick with humidity wraps around me, soaking into my pores. It’s a lovers’ night—a night where I should be surrounded by love in Nathan’s arms the same way the fog is enveloping my quaint cottage. I’m experiencing the strange sort of torture it is to find love, and then to have it go away again and again.
But just a few days ago, love was here. In my home. In my bed.
Nathan had an event to attend in town and asked me a couple of weeks ago to be his plus one for the evening. I readily agreed while mentally rifling though my closet attempting to answer the question every woman asks herself on occasions such as this, “What on earth am I going to wear?”
The day of the event I left work early to allow for ample primping time. Nathan’s flight from god-knows-where landed in the early afternoon. So, as I lounged across my bed after my shower in a flower printed nighty, flipping though a fashion magazine, getting ideas for how to do my makeup, I wasn’t surprised to hear the creak of the screen door open as he inserted his key in the lock and let himself in. The now-familiar thrum thrum thrum of his suitcase wheels as they rolled across the hardwood floors and down the hall to the bedroom told me he knew where I’d be.
“Don’t get up,” he said, just as I was marking my place and turning to greet him.
He walked over to the bed and kissed me gently on the lips before unceremoniously flopping down beside me. With arms linked behind his head, he watched the ceiling fan spin its slow, never-ending circle and let out a long, tired sigh. Magazine set aside, I nuzzled against him, taking in his scent mixed with the stale aftertaste of pressurized air that always clings after hours spent in a flying aluminum can. The steady sound of his breathing, that comforting whoosh of inhale and exhale, the audible verification that another human occupied the room, soothed my lonely soul.
When he rose to get a drink of water, I went back to my magazine, slipping into the easy take-each-other-for-granted vibe we both lapse into. I think perhaps it’s our way of pretending we aren’t apart so often. So I was surprised to feel his hands on my ankles, simultaneously flipping me over and pulling me around so that my edge of my rear met the edge of the bed. Lean fingers ran up the outside of my thighs, over my hips and up to my waist, grasping the nude panties and pulling them off efficiently.
I grinned up at him, watching as he unbuckled his belt, unfastened his pants, unzipped his zipper and released the hard member causing his trousers to tent. Cock in hand he stepped between my parted legs and, with its tip, teased at my entrance, testing my level of readiness. Slippery labia opened willingly, and we coupled, and moved as one, two parts making a whole.
My first orgasm rolled in on us quickly, the clenching of my hands on the white sheets mimicking the clenching of my channel. Nathan moaned as my hips arched toward him, meeting each thrust. He leaned over me, pulling a breast out of the delicate nighty, taking the nipple into his mouth, sucking the already hard point. I moaned. The tempo of his pistoning increased. The sound of his balls slapping hard against my ass put me over the edge for a second orgasm, this one multiplying the wetness of my well.
He slowed, savoring the moment, keeping us balanced on the precipice of ecstasy. Deep inside me he drove, until our very bones kept him from going any further. His body pressed down on mine, his arms encircling my breasts and hands gripping them as if they could save him from drowning. I could feel his cock swell, my cue that he was close.
“Fill me darling,” I whispered.
And he did, just as I reached further within and released a final climax of my own.
The fog has given way to the rain now, it’s job as harbinger complete. The velvet sky opens, and from great heights it cries down the cleansing deluge. Thunder and lighting blink in the distance, getting ever closer. I’m experiencing a cleansing of my own, and am braving the storm of loneliness in the process.