My Lissa...

All the vulgarities filling the world, were filling my mind when I came home tonight.

And there she is. Sitting in her nightgown, on the couch. She's had a long day. It's evident in her face.

All that beauty, those intelligent thoughts, all going to waste as she sits there, wrapped up in her blanket, from the children's bedroom. And it isn't going to waste. She's just sitting there, trying to clear her head, as I walk into the room, kissing her on the forehead.

Melissa looks up and smiles at me. Her eyes, as clear, and soulful as a Scottish maid, awaiting her lover, atop a cold and desolate plain. Her smile lights up the room, better than the lamp across the room from her. She sits here, all alone, with only her gown and her blanket, for warmth. Warmth I've felt from her since before I walked into the apartment.

Such a beautiful angel, I have here, sitting at home, and waiting. Waiting for me to get off work, at midnight, and come home to her.

I had to stop off for gas and a beverage for us to share, all the while, waiting, aching, almost, from not being able to feel my arms around her.

I just realized that I was in love with her, only a couple weeks ago. And I am fortunate enough to come home to her. My beautiful angel, with the raven hair, brown eyes, and the most gorgeous face of all the creatures I've seen. My sweet, darling Melissa, sitting here alone. Wait for me no longer.

I am home.

I sit down, along side my beloved Melissa, my hand reaching out, into her lap, to hold her hand, through the woven blanket. Her hand meets mine, softly. And she's smiling, still. She knows I love her with all my being.

And I know she loves me.

We talk for a little while, about the day's events, however meager. Stifled as I am by her beauty, I stare into her eyes, as we start up a movie in the VCR. I'm too busy, looking at her to even know what movie it is.

She really is MY angel. My beautiful one.

And I feel her clutching to my hand as I sit here, next to her, my hand in hers. My legs stretching out, meeting the toy box I have as a coffee table. Her legs, kicking out, to rest on my thighs.

Her left hand reaches over, onto my legs, cupping my left hand, as I reach my right arm around her neck.

Her hands are soft. And her hair, softer. I can smell the shampoo she's used in her bath. It's light. A sort of fruit or flower combination, I think. It drives me nuts, and I don't know exactly why.

Maybe it's just the smell that is the scent of the woman I love. I'm not sure, and I'm not so much worried about that now.

We're comfy on the couch, watching the movie. Together, we are safe. Together, we are loved. Together, we are. And I am in love.

I've gotten up a couple times, kissing her cheek when I'd go to the kitchen for a beer. And I'd bring hers back, setting it down, open, on the table, just within reach of her light arm, as she sits here, beside the man in black, with his arm around her, on the couch.

Her lover. Hers, through and through, I am.

The movie's dragged on long enough, and we are tired. Time for bed. And I need a shower.

I'm just getting out of the shower, drying my red and black hair, then my stocky framed body. I've already brushed my teeth. And I've just shaven, though, my five O'clock shadow, isn't what I've just shaven.

I slide my boxers on, green and black plaid, boxers. They are soft, and loose. My t-shirt is next, and I pull it on, quickly, so as not to make any extra time for my waiting lover, in bed.

The light is on in the bedroom. I walk in to see Melissa's face, nuzzling the sheer sheet barely on top of her. Her body is half-covered with the quilt my mother gave me, as she is cold, in the middle of the summer.

It's July and the air conditioner is on. She's laying there, the floor fan blowing at her side of the bed, rustling the sheet over her five foot one inch body. She lay there, so beautifully, in her gown, her hair behind her, on my pillow.

Her beautiful hair is blowing ever so slightly, giving her an even more angelic appearance.

Melissa looks at me again, squinting those brown eyes, I am so touched by. My heart feels as though it is melting in the presence of such a wondrous creature. And my hand reaches down, stroking her hair.

I am home, with the one I love.

I am walking the couple steps back toward the door, turning off the lights in an almost graceful way.

There is light peeking into the room from the streetlights outside, penetrating the bedroom through the small holes in the blinds over the windows.

The bed is in the corner of the room. There are windows around the bed, on two full sides. And this is where I lay myself down, next to my love.

I creep across the bed, kneeling down next to Melissa's legs, trying not to disturb her petite, poetic frame.

I lay me down.

Melissa turns over, just long enough to allow me her hand. And I curl up to her, my legs entwining hers. My right hand, clutching hers. Clutching the hand of the woman in the powder blue gown lying on the bed next to me.

I raise her hair up, kissing her neck. Slowly, I reach my left arm above my shoulder, to rest below her head, under her pillow.

I can feel her heartbeat. I feel her breathing. I feel her legs, bending at the knees, from behind our blanket boundary.

My love is not cold now, but throws covers over my legs, so that I can feel her freshly shaven legs on mine, more coarse, hairy, natural. She throws it over me, to have me hold her closer, more secure.

We lay here for a while, me, kissing my Melissa's neck gently, as she grows almost restless. It is a Tuesday night. And she has nothing to do tomorrow morning. I'm happy that she's home. Happy that she's here with me.

I do miss her so, when she isn't with me. And I'm so happy that she's in bed, allowing me to join her, in her beautiful sleep. So warm and cozy with me, here, beside her angelic frame.

The sheer countenance of love. The purest of souls. The most beautiful of all the goddesses. My darling. My dearest Melissa. Too gorgeous for a man, so unholy as me.

I love her.

As we lay here, in the bed, my right hand, that was wrapped around her waist, has just recently been pulled under her left breast. Her nipples are growing firmer. I feel on my wrist and hand, through her gown. Soft cotton.

And I do love her breasts. Their size. So supple. And firm. And beautiful.

She's begun to squirm a bit again, as I hold her, breast in hand. Mouth on her neck, kissing and lapping gently, slowly.

Her right hand is now resting on my thigh. Holding my body near hers, as if she's afraid I'll roll away from her in the dimly lit room.

My hand, moving slowly, so as not to disturb her, I start sliding down, from her breasts, to her stomach.

Now, down her side, to her waist. Again, I do this with some grace, touching her right leg, as I make my way downward from her gorgeous pale body, covered with the thin light blue gown.

She grows more restless. Her hips and well-shaped ass backing into my groin. Almost rubbing my more unmentionable parts, as she rolls over a bit at a time, holding my right shoulder with her left hand.

She is so beautiful. So immaculate. So wondrous.

And she is mine.

More, I am hers.

Melissa lay there, in her gown, under the blankets on the bed, holding me closer to her. She is on her back now.

And I, beside her, staring in awe at the goddess I see in the pale streetlight. My boxers are getting somewhat tighter now, and I can feel her hips grinding against me.

My left hand, now, behind her head, my right, touching her inner thighs firmly. My mouth, kissing hers. She anticipates.

My beautiful one is awaiting.

"Shall I continue?"