The Portrait

As he walked up to his bike, he resigned himself to spending the night out in the country. He was lifting his helmet to his head when a feminine voice behind him spoke.

"Excuse me," the voice politely said, startling Michael to the point where he accidentally swallowed his mint.

Coughing, he turned around. "Yes?" he asked. He froze in shock as their eyes met and comprehension dawned. It washer! The woman from the picture! Standing not ten feet away. She was dressed casually: a cream colored scoop-top blouse and artfully torn jeans that gave tantalizing glimpses or the tanned skin beneath. Her small toes peeked prettily from beneath the white straps of her open-toed shoes. "It's you!" he managed to croak.

She didn't seemed surprised by his unusual reaction. She was probably used to men acting like idiots around her. She smiled enigmatically. "Who else would it be?"

He wasn't sure if she were making fun of him or not, her expression gave no clue. This was insane. Who was she? Was he crazy? Wasshe crazy? How could she have followed him here?How could he have known to draw a portrait of her!?

Her smile deepened, "You look like you've seen a ghost. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Not a ghost," he managed.A goddess maybe. "Where did you come from?"

"I was waiting for you inside. I heard your conversation, and I figured you could use some help," she replied as she motioned toward the bar.

No way was she in there, he thought.I would have see her for certain, and none of the other guys had seen her either, he was sure of it. A woman like that would attract male attention like ants to honey. He fought to regain some semblance of emotional equilibrium as his eyes devoured every detail of her. She was tall, nearly his own height.My god, she's even more beautiful in person. Even under the harsh, jaundiced illumination of the street light she was stunning. He fought to form a coherent sentence. "What kind of help?" he asked with mock casualness.

"Well, it seems to me you need a place to stay. As it happens, I have just such a place, but I lack transportation." She smiled mischievously.

"That is very, very nice of you; but I don't even know you. How do you know I'm not a psychopath or some other kind of freak?"

She responded with an impish smile that made his heart race. "How do you know I'm not?" she asked as she looked coquettishly up through dark lashes.

I'd almost welcome death if it came at the hands of such beauty, he thought. Well, so much for rationality.

As if reading his thoughts, the woman tilted her head and gave him another heart-stopping smile.

"Well, you don't seem the type. I usually have good instincts when it comes to people," he said.

She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Usually?"

He decided not to tell her about his dating failures. "Well, I've been wrong before. Besides, I don't even know your name."

She stepped closer and looked into his eyes. He recognized the scent he smelled earlier, it was her. But now it didn't fade away, instead the heavenly fragrance seemed to wrap around him, ensnaring his senses. He was acutely aware of the lush curves of her body as she moved closer. He now knew what it meant when someone said they could drown in a person's eyes. Deep, fathomless, and exquisite-he never wanted to look away. He belatedly realized she had said something. "I'm sorry?"

"I said 'You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine.'"

"It's Michael," he said, embarrassed as he held out his hand.

She shook it, her hand was warm and soft, but her grip was firm. Electricity seemed to shoot up his arm at her touch. "Michael," she said as if testing the sound of it. "The name of an angel." He didn't know what to say to that. " I'm Autumn."

"My favorite season," he said, smiling.Smooth, a voice in his head mocked.

"Charmer. I'll bet you say that to all the girls."

"Not really. Most of them aren't seasons."

She laughed softly, like silver chimes borne on a warm breeze. "Well how about it? You give me a ride and I'll give you a roof for the night. In the morning you can go to the gas station. That is, unless you would prefer to spend the night out in the cold."

The experience seemed surreal. It was too vivid, too real to be a dream, but his mind reeled from what was happening. Here was the woman who had been haunting his dreams standing before him in the flesh. At least he thought so, it could be he had finally cracked from the strain and was imagining the whole thing.I don't care, he thought. No matter how bizarre the situation he was not going to pass up the opportunity to see more of this woman. "I'm always pleased to help a damsel in distress, but my bike's almost out of gas."

"That's okay, it's not far."

He had run out of excuses. He didn't know whether to feel nervous or excited. "Alright then." He slipped his jacket off and handed it to her. "Here, put this on, it's getting cold."

She hesitated before taking it. "Thank you," she said softly. Her full lips curved into a smile. "It's rare to find a gentleman in this day and age."

"It's rare to find a lady," he replied, and she smiled again. He handed her the helmet.

"No, thank you. The jacket's enough. I don't want to be responsible for you crashing if you get a bug in your eye."

"Fair enough," he said as he tugged it over his head. As soon as he was settled in the seat, he patted the pillion behind him. "Hop aboard."

With a dancer's grace, she climbed behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You've done this before haven't you?" he asked with a smile.

He heard the smile in her voice as she answered, "Once or twice."

Michael found that he was jealous of whoever she had ridden with before, but he pushed the thought away.Dumbass! You barely know her, you've got no right to be jealous.

With his precious cargo, Michael carefully maneuvered the bike back onto the road. Mindful of potholes and other hazards he kept the speed low until the made their way back to the country road.

At the intersection, Autumn pointed to the right. Once on the road, he picked up the speed. Autumn clung tightly to him. Now, it was more than a daydream, now a beautiful woman really was clinging to him, her body pressed tightly to his. Even over the wind, he could hear her delighted laughter.

She was right, it was a short trip. Less than two miles down the road, Autumn tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the left. It was a good thing she did. The path she gestured towards was little more than a jeep trail and barley wide enough for a car. The trail meandered for a few hundred yards on the woods before opening up into a clearing. A small cottage lay in the center. He turned his head toward his passenger, and Autumn nodded her head in response to his unspoken question.

Even unlit, it looked inviting- a small flower garden was arrange in front of the windows, and there were stepping stones that led to the porch. He felt a small pang of loss as Autumn climbed down. He already wanted to feel her arms around him again. He followed the graceful apparition to the door as if in a trance. She opened the door immediately- apparently there was no need to lock your door this far out. He realized something else: there was no car here either. How did she get around? Relying solely on the kindness of strangers. The thought should have disturbed him, but it didn't. He felt as if he knew her already, had known her for ages.

Autumn crossed the threshold and flicked a switch, illuminating the interior. It was surprisingly sparse: just a couch, a small coffee table and a bookshelf. She removed the jacket and placed it on the armrest of the couch before turning to him. "Here we are. Home sweet home." Noticing his scrutiny she added. "I know. It's pretty bare, but I don't have much need for material things, I like to keep it simple. Why don't I get us some refreshment?", she asked brightly.

As she walked to the adjoining kitchen, Michael perused her bookshelf. The books were leather-bound and old, but well cared for. He was an avid reader, but he recognized none of the titles. He didn't know what to do with himself, there was nothing else to be seen, no television, no computer, nothing. She really did lead a Spartan lifestyle. He was tempted to venture into her bedroom, but he didn't dare. He was trying to think up a topic of conversation when Autumn returned carrying two glasses of lemonade, the ice cubes in the classes clinked softly as she set them down on the coffee table. She sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her.

Heart beating like a kettle drum he did so. To cover his nervousness he feigned casualness by reaching over and taking a glass of lemonade. He was pleased that his hand didn't tremble. Much. He sipped. "This is good, but isn't it supposed to be martinis or something?"

She gave another musical laugh. "Are saying you need to be drunk to talk to me?"

"No," he replied quickly. "That's just the way it is in the movies." He blushed, realizing he sounded like an idiot. Suddenly, he did wish he had a little alcohol-fueled courage. "This is going to sound crazy, but there's something I need to tell you."

Her only response was a slight nod in invitation.

He ran a hand though his hair as he pushed on. " Please believe me. This isn't some pick up line, but I feel as though I've known you my whole life. Like I've been searching for you. I've dreamt of you, not an abstract concept of 'you'-you actually. Just yesterday I drew your portrait, and I didn't even meet you until today. Now that I'm finally here with you, I..." he trailed off lamely. He stared at the glasses on the table. He didn't want to see the look on her face at his insane story. He braced himself for her onslaught.

A soft hand touched his arm lightly. She wasn't afraid or angry, she was smiling radiantly, displaying a row of dazzling teeth. "Of course I believe you. I've been waiting for you. I told you that at the bar. I've been waiting for you for so long. I know you've been searching for something, something you could never define, something missing from your life. It's been agony for me, for both of us, but your mind couldn't accept it. You resisted my call for so long."

"Your call. Like a siren's song?" he asked, only partly joking.

She tilted her head slightly as she regarded him, a lock of dark hair sliding liquidly down her cheek. She lightly traced his jaw with her fingertips. To his surprise, she was trembling slightly. The contact sent tingles of pleasure to his brain. "I've watched over you your whole life, hoping, praying that you would come to me. As your mind became more open to possibilities, I became more substantial to you. Slowly over the years, you've come closer, and now, finally you can see me. I was with you in the park when you ran, I was riding with you yesterday. I've ridden with you many times, but only recently have you begun to sense me."

"Like a guardian angel? Have you been constantly watching over me this whole time." Embarrassment flooded through him as he recalled some of his behavior when he was alone.

"Not every second," she smiled, "but I've always been close."

"Why can I see you today, what's changed?"

"When people are young, their minds are open. They can see things older people can't, or rather choose not to. When you were a baby, you could see me as you do now, but as you matured your mind erected barriers. It's a natural defense, most minds aren't strong enough to comprehend some of the things reality holds." She grasped his hands in her own. "You mind prevented you from seeing me, but our souls were calling to each other. Your soul began to rebel against your mind's refusal to accept the true reality of things. That's why you've had these feelings of loss, that's the source of your dreams."

"So are you a spirit? A phantasm?" He squeezed her hands softly. "You feel pretty real to me."

"What I am is someone who loves you Michael, with every fiber of my being. I've loved you since I saw your shining new soul at the moment of your conception . So pure, so bright. I knew we were fated to be together. I've shared your pain and loneliness, I've felt your doubts and your feelings of worthlessness." Tears began to form in her beautiful eyes and slide down her smooth cheeks. "I'm ashamed to say, I've been the cause of some of your pain."

Michael couldn't help it, he surged forward and held her in his arms as she sobbed. He story sounded crazy, impossible, but he didn't doubt a word-her story resonated within him. He knew it was the truth.

She pushed back enough to look at him through eyes shining with tears. "I don't deserve your kindness. I'm responsible for your loneliness. Whenever you met someone, someone I could sense would be attracted to you I drove her away. I influenced her enough to not want to see you again. That's why their behavior seemed so erratic. I...I couldn't stand the thought of someone else being with you instead of me, so in my selfishness I made sure you remained alone. I...I know..." She dissolved into tears against his chest.

Michael held her and caressed her through her veil of silky tresses. "Shhh, please don't cry. I don't care about any of that. Strangely enough, he didn't. The woman in his arms had completely bewitched him. "Now that I've met you, I realize you just saved me from a lifetime of regrets and false hope."

Autumn looked up from her weeping and gave him a tremulous, watery smile. He heard her breath catch as he bent and gently kissed the tears from her eyes. Following their trail down, he softly kissed paths down her cheeks to the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted open in invitation. She felt a flutter in her stomach.I've waited so long for you my love, she thought. As he moved his lips slowly closer to hers she shivered in anticipation. Just as his lips began to brush hers, a fraction of an inch away, he pulled back with a worried frown.

What had come over him? He had never been that bold. He had only just met this woman, and he was losing all control, he wanted to rip her cloths off and ravish her right there. "I, I'm sorry, we just met, and already I'm...I just had to kiss you. You were crying, and I just...I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

Autumn's cheeks were flushed, her breasts strained against the fabric constraining them as her lungs labored for breath. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Taking advantage? I've been in agony craving your touch, needing it, foryears. No, I've waited long enough." With that, she grabbed the back of his head and crushed his lips to hers.

Fire exploded in their minds at the passion they felt , it was passion that seared them both and threatened to consume them. Michael could hear the blood pounding in his head as her kiss threatened to overwhelm his senses. She melted against him, her breasts pressed against his chest and his pounding heartbeat.My angel. Their kisses became deeper, more wanton. Each could hear the other's gasps for breath in between each hot, passionate kiss. Their mouths moved together as if each sought to drink in the other. Tentative at first, Michael grew bolder as their passions rose. He cautiously began to explore her sweet mouth and lips with his tongue. She responded by moaning against his mouth and caressing his tongue with hers. After an eternity of bliss, she broke their embrace.

The sight of her turned heated his blood. He felt drunk with passion. Here eyes were dark pools of flame, her lips were darker and swollen from the violent crush of their lips. "Are you sure you've never done that before?", she asked breathlessly. Without waiting for an answer she grabbed his hand with her own. Her skin felt hot but her grip was firm as she almost bodily pulled him along with her. "Come on," she urged in a throaty whisper.

She pulled him into the bedroom. The lamps beside the bed bathed the room in a warm, soft glow. She dimmed them further until the room was bathed in twilight. Then she pushed him on the bed and climbed atop him. Her dark, silky hair formed a curtain around her face as she leaned above him. Her eyes shined with emotion as she looked down on him. "All these years, and now we're finally together. I can scarcely believe it."

"This has to be some impossibly beautiful dream," he murmured as he gazed at the vision above him.

"Let's hope we don't wake before the good part," she whispered as she bent down to reclaim his lips.

As their hungry mouths met with renewed vigor, Michael surprised her by grasping her and flipping her over so that he was above her. He grabbed her delicate wrists and held them over her head. She gasped at the reversal, her expression a mixture of surprise and defiance as she dared him to do his worst. He bent down and teased her with light, tingling kisses that turned to deep lingering ones that left them both gasping for breath.

He released her wrists. Slowly, with infinite care, he pulled her blouse over her head. She shivered as her feverish skin was exposed. She made a sound in her throat that was half growl and half moan as he kissed a path down the smooth, soft skin of her stomach. She smiled in anticipation as she felt his fingers unfasten her jeans. She could feel his restraint. He was struggling not to bodily tear her cloths off and thrust himself into her there and then. The thought of being violently taken like that both frightened and aroused her. Not wanting to impede his progress she kicked her shoes off just as he peeled the jeans off of her legs, but he had no time to enjoy what he had revealed.

She could wait no longer. Clad only in a white lace bra and panties, she sat up and ravished his mouth with hers before gripping the hem of his shirt and almost tearing it from his body. She then placed her hands on his chest, taking a moment to luxuriate in the contrast between the hard muscle and soft hair, before shoving him backwards. Yanking the zipper down, she violently pulled his jeans, and in the process his underwear, off.

Her eyes feasted on the site of his engorged manhood. So beautiful, and all hers. She wanted to trace every contour, study every detail before taking it into her mouth. She wet her lips as she imagined tasting him, licking him. She could almost feel the heat radiating from it. She smelled the musky male scent of his arousal, and felt something tighten within herself. She reached for it, but before her fingers could close around the object of her desire, he again grabbed her wrists in his iron grasp and pushed her down on her back.

She squealed in protest but could say nothing as his mouth descended to devour hers. He fought for control with every ounce of willpower he possessed. The scent of her was maddening, he couldn't think. He was lost in a haze of lust, and he used every shred of discipline he had to force himself to slow down. Autumn was everything he desired and more. He was going to take his time exploring and savoring every exquisite inch of her.

He trailed hot kisses along her fevered skin from her mouth to her jaw. He then kissed and lightly sucked a trail down her soft, elegant neck. He could feel her pulse beat wildly against his lips as she gasped and whispered semi-coherent entreaties to both stop and never stop. He lightly bit the soft skin of her earlobe before trailing back down to her collarbone. He kissed and lightly licked at the sensitive junction where her delicate neck flared to her graceful shoulders.

Autumn was delirious with ecstasy. All she could do was run her fingers through his hair and knead the strong muscles of his back and shoulders as he tantalized her. She quivered as he kissed and bit a trail down the inside of her arms, and gasped as he took a slender finger into his hot mouth. The feeling of his lips and tongue on her finger coupled with his fingers tracing intricate designs on her stomach and thighs made her moan softly.