White Lily Ch. 02

I dive into the cold ocean.

"No...you asshole douchebag goatfucker!"

Amanda's face is contorted and ugly with searing spite.

My last backward glance at Amanda: Lycanthropic eyes flashing hatred, lips twisted in an insane snarl, wet hair coiled like snakes about her face and I am gone, swimming back to my secret place, to my white lily.

As I clamber up the rocks to the cave the intensity of the drama therein hits me. Ominous gurgling threatens from the back of the cave as the tide makes its way through strange and secret crevices.

Everything seems loud and urgent, violent and threatening.

The ocean, deep and powerful has a majestic power as it surrounds Ally and she looks afraid, her footing swept away with each incoming swell.

It is an illusion, I know the patterns of my secret place, but Ally does not.

The intensity of her fear, of the awareness of her frailty against forces oblivious to her suffering, of the unknown, all are too real.

The ropes untied we swim to the beach and lie naked and breathless among the surf.

Lying together as the waves flow over our bodies and out again, we make love. Maddening, sensual and bitter-sweet. Painful and gentle, uncountable love letters with every caress and touch until our two bodies are lost in one eternal erotic moment.

It seems to last forever and vanish in seconds as we orgasm together, both of us searching even at that point of utmost sharing for more, for an even deeper union.

Always there is more, always there is a small death. Always the bitter-sweet.

As she orgasms Ally claws her nails into her burnt breast. It is the need of her dark lady within. My own darkness recognizes her and I kiss her hand.

When it is over and we have laid in each others arms, Ally roles over onto her front, one hand cupping her face, small breasts wet with the surf.

Content and satiated for a while her dark lady slumbers.

"This was too much." Ally's voice is trembling.

"I know it. She's gone."

"But you allowed it."

"For the dark lady inside you."

"And for me?"

She sits up, huddling her knees and watching the sun setting on the ocean.

"All this was my love letter too you."

"I read it."

"And?"

"Maybe love is not enough."

Ally's words frighten me to my core and I reach out to touch her.

"I...it was part of my life's work...my creation of you...my white lily...without the cracks..."

"..how can the light get in." We repeat our oft said phrase in unison. Ally smiles across at me, her eyes tearful and sad.

"It was too much...bringing Amanda..."

Ally is openly sobbing now, her shoulders shaking horribly making me despair at what I have done.

"You'll never know the pain I have suffered or the hurt I had to rise above."

Even now her eyes hold no anger, only pain.

"Then why?"

"Because you wished it."

Her whispered words are like thunder, humbling me to my core. Her generosity of submission has been overwhelming in its devotion to me and seeing her huddled and weeping I hate myself.

I hate myself for not realizing her preciousness before.

Worse, for realizing it and stamping on those delicate boundaries regardless. It was not Amanda who stole and crushed Ally's white lily that night. I see that now. It was me. Every atrocious moment was me.

I watch Ally got to the trunk and begin dressing in the twilight. Once dressed she returns to me and softly takes my hand.

"I'm going now."

"Ally please, the last part of my love letter to you. The Anchises statue, do you not see: 'Suffer me not to live a strengthless shadow among men, but pity me: for no man lives in strength that has couched with immortal Goddess.'...Please."

"Bye my love...it was just too much."

Her hand slips from mine and I watch her walk up the sand dunes, turn and wave in silhouette and then she is gone.

I sit naked on the beach watching the last traces of the sunlight dip behind the ocean.

It's dark now.