by Athena ©
A storm broods over the Pacific Ocean. Black, brooding clouds fill the sky. Thunder crashes across the ocean and lightening illuminates the sky. A lone car can be seen winding along PCH. The woman driving the car does so absentmindedly. Handling its twist and turns as easily as one strolls through their home. She speeds without thought to the wet road. Her body responding to the storm as a lost lover.
As a child she played upon the beaches shores, building sandcastles and waging wars; winning most and losing when it was convenient. As a young teen, she walked the shores in a sexy blue bikini; smiling smugly as she pretended not to hear the cat calls. Haughtily, she felt herself swell with pride. As a young woman she experienced her first lovemaking here; the sky as her roof, the wet sand as her bed. She remembers the weight of her lover's body on top of hers; remembers pretending it was the ocean's spirit inside of her instead of her lover's organ. She matched each thrust in synch with the waves crashing against the shore.
She sees the familiar neon lights up a head, VACANCY, waving to her like an old friend. As she pulls into the parking lot and opens the car door, the salt air hits her and she feels herself weaken. She struggles to walk into the office and sees a man as old as time. He sits behind the counter and watches a TV that is even older. He hands her a worn key in exchange for a look into her eyes. He sees her lust and remembers for a moment, what desire felt like. She turns and walks out.
As she reaches her room, she glances over at the storm, feeling it call to her. Upon entering, she sheds her clothes without ceremony and slides a thin gown over her shoulders in a slow caress. She stands in front of the window and stares out into the sea. As the waves swell and crash violently on the beach, her breast rise and nipples harden. At the lightening screams across the sky, her vagina contracts and moistens. She opens the window to hear the raging force around her and to smell the harsh salt air. She reaches down and caresses her burning flesh. She matches once again the oceans tempo and feels the waves wash over her. She mentally wills her lover to come to her and cries out his name in desire. She screams it loudly into the night and hears it rock against the wind. Her body tenses as weakness feels her. Without explanation, she feels his presence behind her. Leaning back against his chest, so possessively he wraps his arms around her. As he kisses the curve of her neck, she shudders in climax.
As he wrapped his arms around her, he felt her desire and rode with her. He has known her from the moment of her conception, tucked safely in her mother's womb. He felt her first heart beat like an earthquake rocking his soul. He is neither man nor god, but has come to her as both. He is a force of nature, a moving, driving spirit. He calls to her in his thunderous voice and illuminates the way with lightening.
He watched her as a child; giggling with her bright yellow sand bucket and matching shovel. She made endless trips to the water's edge, delicately filling her bucket with water. She lamely tired not to get her toes wet and would squeal in mock protest at the tide's return. She would run back to her spot on the beach spilling more than half of what water she managed to capture. She attempted to turn the sand into mud to build a stronger castle. Oh, how he laughed each time the waves flattened her castles. While she cried out in vain as if to stop them. Once, in a particular moment of preservation, she laid her body in front of the castle. She had pointlessly hoped to block the water's destruction. Instead, only filling her belly with salt water and her eyes with tears. He had hoped she would learn the "temporariness" of things and build a solid foundation for herself. But in the meantime, he could not help but laugh.
As a young teen he had watched her and came to her many times as a sun surfer. Stealing kisses from her under the pier. He marveled at how she filled out her bikini and the firmness of her tan body. She would giggle so shyly, so sweetly. He once commanded the ocean and the wind to dance with her, the water pulling her suit off and the wind to carry it away. His delight was overwhelming, watching her scamper around naked, running for her suit. Blushing and romping about aimlessly.
As a young lady she brought her lover to the sandy beach and lay with him. He entered this bumbling one and took physical possession of her for the first time. He felt her heartbeat and blood rage. Her body was swollen and ripe with desire under his weight. He felt her awaken under his touch. Her innocence and beauty exposed to him. He guided her spirit to the place of lovers and let her run free. He knew she loved him and would always love him, even though he was beyond her comprehension
Over the years and into her adult life she had come to him often. She would walk the sandy beaches, searching for him. She eagerly sought him out to celebrate her triumphs or unburden her soul. She danced under the moonlight on her wedding night, sharing her joy with him, and seeking his blessing. Years later, she mourned her greatest loss here, in solitude with him. He called the wind and the sea and sky and raged a magnificent storm in her honor. Somehow knowing this would free her. He also knew she came here in search of herself. She struggled to sort out who she had become in contrast to who she was once was; struggled with her desires, torn apart by them.
As her climax subsides and her brain is powerful enough to command her muscles to move, she turns in his arms and faces him. Looking into his eyes, she knows that she is home and that she is safe. He drops his hands to her waist and effortlessly picks her up and carries her to the bed.
"You have not come to me in quite awhile, My Athena" he chides her gently. "I have been forced to lay havoc on the earth to draw you to me."
She smiles despite herself, loving the sound of her name on his lips.
"You have outdone yourself tonight, My Lord, this power I have not seen before."
He laughs inwardly, but says nothing, knowing the depths of his power and what little she understands. The storm outside matches the one in her soul and tonight he will release her.
He sits on the side of the bed and quiets his mind as he searches within her to pinpoint her torment. Her love for him is unfaltering but something is not right. It is as if a piece of her is missing. He lays a tender hand over her breast and cups the softness, searching for the rhythm of her heartbeat underneath it. When he finds the force that pushes her blood throughout her body; he closes his eyes and loses himself into its rhythm. It beats strong and steadily under his hand, but without pleasure. His face darkens as he feels the struggle that weighs upon her soul. He has never been able to understand her self-doubt, her needless worry about those around her. She is a woman that loves and loves completely, but has never been able to accept the hardness of another's heart. She torments herself with their actions, as if it is her failing that she can not make those she loves happy all the time. He has watched her become more like a chameleon over the years. Changing her desires to meet those around her until she no longer remembers them herself. But they lay deep within her, struggling to come out and she is exhausted trying to suppress them.
It would be useless to tell her that those who love her; love her because of her desires, not in spite of them. It would be just as foolish to tell her that they grieve in her self-torment. He must find a way to show her and let her come to accept it on her own.
He draws her into his embrace and holds her close to his heart. As she feels his powerful rhythm take over her own, she trembles. She only feels safe when she is in control and surrendering to him is not as easy as it once was. She sub-consciously fights against him, willing her mind to overpower her spirit. But as her blood pumps and rushes threw her veins it lends to such a peaceful feeling. She clings to him tightly, afraid to let go of him, afraid to let go of herself. This fear that haunts her, he does not understand. But he clutches her tighter into his embrace and whispers cooing words of reassurance. As the last traces of deviance leave her, her body stills and breathing calms. She is in his care and the fear evaporates. He lays her down and looks deeply into her eyes. He searches to see what she sees. He is saddened by her pain; but determined to draw it out and release it.
"My sweet Athena, tell me what has caused your heart to hide, tell me if you know."
A single tear crosses her lash as she looks at him in frustration. "I do not know, but I can not escape it."
He lies down beside her and pulls her against his chest. Wrapping his arm around her and holding her securely, he feels her hide beside him. Even in his arms, the arms that have held her a thousand times, she can not be free. It is then that he realizes what her burden is. She is afraid of herself. She is afraid of what she might do if she allows herself to feel what she has bottled up inside her. He leans over and kisses her gently, bringing her lips to his own. As he breaths life into her with the power of the wind, she weakens instead of strengthens. He does not relent, but calls upon the wind that roams the earth to come to him. As the whirling power surrounds them she holds onto him tighter and presses her lips against his, creating a vacuum without escape. He holds her close and feels her strengthen. He lowers her head and kisses her neck, suckling the skin until she can not separate the pounding of her heart from the tonguing on her neck. Her body is alive and almost as charged as the lightening that crashes against the sky.
She feels a need she can not name and a hunger that only grows. He rolls her on to her back and covers her body with his own. He is a blanket she wraps around herself that soothes and seduces, comforts and caresses until she would rather smother herself within him, than let go of him. He leans down and cups her breast within his hand, squeezing it gently until the nipple pulses with her heartbeat. She closes her eyes and rolls her head from left to right on the pillow; this trance she feels overwhelms her and tears form in her eyes. He moves from breast to breast, teasing and coaxing until his slightest touch sends currents of pleasure throughout her body.
As his mouth nourishes her breast, inspiring the desire that burns inside her, he lowers his hands to her belly. Grasping her sides, he strokes her meticulously. Every inch of her soft flesh feels the strength of his hand. She is the most vulnerable here and his attention never waivers. He slides his fingers, delicately but firmly in between her ribs and glides them up and down while the tip of his tongue traces a straight line from her xiphoid to her pelvis. He feels her tensing as this pleasure pushes her too far towards the edge of complete surrender.
"Athena, you must let it go" he whispers to her, "You can not have both. You can hold onto your fear and this desire at the same time."
She knows his words are true and once again wills herself to be steady, but it takes the constant motion of his hands coupled with the sucking sensation on her waist to give rise to abandonment. The tears that threatened her before flow freely as the sweet release washes over her. He slips his hand in between her legs and searches for her ache. He finds it throbbing angrily, enraged at having been so long denied. His own desire grows and the world outside suffers for it as he represses it. The thunder rocks and rages across the sky without mercy, as the wind propels the rain to penetrate the ground. The ocean is the only force that is happy as it swells and swirls and crashes against the shore. Athena can hear her heartbeat in tempo with the slamming of each tides return.
The warmth between her legs is now fire and the creamy offerings of her vagina simmer against her sex as if it might bubble. As he slips his finger inside her, she bucks off the bed in one violent jerk. She sits straight up and reaches for him. He sees that the fire in between her legs matches the ones in her eyes. Athena pulls him towards her demandingly, but he contents himself with his work. Pushing her back gently to the bed, he has no intent in giving into her so easily. He pumps his fingers into her and tastes of the cream she has so determinedly guarded. She lays back and writhes under his administrations. Her own hands pinching the blood out of her nipples only to find them completely filled as she releases her grip. She tosses her head back into the pillow and shakes it from side to side, while arching her back and thrusting her hips against his fingers. Her eyes closed tightly as her moans grow louder and she loses herself over and over. Her desire has turned to passion and she gives into it freely as she lets go of whom she thinks she should be and embraces who she is.
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