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And, then it does, it happens - a primitive scream that sucks all the air from her body and sends birds scattering noisily out of the trees around us. Leigh's head is thrown back and my knees buckle, unbalancing me, so that I fall forward, driving her through the water as my hot seed squirts deep, deep into her cunt. Lake Morpheus splashes up around us and we drop onto the wet bank, panting and clasping each other tight. I feel her sex quivering around me, milking every last drop of sperm from me, her nipples brushing against my chest as her breasts rise and fall.
I nuzzle my face against her flushed throat, chanting, "I love you, Leigh, I love you..."
Leigh nods slowly and sighs, her mouth not yet able to form the words she wants to tell me.
***
That was yesterday. This is today.
And so, now I sit here by the window looking down at the Atlantic, sunlight glaring in at me, my emotions bubbling up like molten lava as I drink a malt whisky from a plastic cup in your honour.
The little six-year-old hazel-eyed American sitting beside me looks up, puzzled. I can feel her confused stare. I expect she's never seen a grown man crying but I just can't stop. I can't stop this streams of tears. I don't want to stop them, Leigh. I've not cried this much since I was her age and in a strange way it feels good. (Parting is such sweet sorrow.)
"What's wrong?" asks the little girl in a concerned voice.
Her mother pats her knee, reassuringly. "Shush now, Chloe Louise. Mr Lennox is just pleased to be going home. You know, sometimes adults cry when they're happy, honey."
Chloe Louise frowns, obviously thinking to herself that adults are strange creatures.
I laugh and wipe my face. "I'm just a little bit sad 'cause I wanted to bring my friend with me, Chloe," I say.
"Oh." The little girl looks thoughtful, nodding her head slowly. This is an emotion she can understand. She shrugs her shoulders, raising her eyebrows, hopefully. "Maybe next time?"
Yes. Maybe next time.
And, next time I promise it's for keeps, Leigh. You see, I've discovered that we are ceangailte ri cheile. (That's Gaelic for "tied together".) I miss you, baby.
morray
***
AUTHOR'S NOTE: You can read more of my erotic fiction here on Lit, posted under the names Alexander Tzara and Roger Simian.
