An Autumn Eve of Wintery Fire

You wring my hand further down into the depths and rub. Your nectar trickles out of you, dampening where we lay. You push two of my fingers along yourself, pirouetting them into a lewd waltz. I am beginning to lose control and finally begin to break your rule. I dig my teeth into your collar and taking control once more of my hand. Inside, a rolling boil has now seeped into dangerous territory and it is here we finally arrive at true madness.

You slam down onto me with the force of a dying sun. You are shaking wildly, stars whirling overhead as you erupt. My own summit timing perfectly with your own and cascade a torrent throughout. We are screaming the symphonic cacophony of true lust's anthem to the silent applause of the night.

Time passes and our breathing resumes its normal tempo. We lay mute, no word is muttered, nor voice spoken. I can sense dusk beckoning you away into its calm cradle and you leave me alone in the gloom of twilight. Despite its allure, I forcibly shove midnight's loving embrace away long enough to move silently around you as you succumb to your weary mind and body.

I cautiously place my arms under your resting head and slender legs and hoist you up. I move through the pitch-black room with ease. I place you on the cool mattress we never did end up making it and cover you in the down duvet. I position myself in and sneak toward you no as not to disturb your slumber. I place my arm around you one final time, holding you close.

Though I wish not to look away for a moment, the caress of night takes hold. My eyes close and I drift into inertia...

When my mind takes hold again, my recollection of your returns in full. Whatever dreams had been playing just moments ago fade into dark depths as I begin to wake. I can feel light piercing my eyelids, pushing me further awake. I do my best to remain in comfort of the darkness, forcibly keeping my eyes closed. I don't feel you. I move my arm where you'd previously been in a slight waving fashion, but you are gone. I don't want to open my eyes.

I can smell your perfume still. It lingers faintly but instantly pulls forth an image of you in my mind. I feel a dent where you'd laid. The twinge of pain hits me again. Despite my hearts best efforts to keep my eyes closed and remain in this memory forever, my brain tells me to open my eyes. The light stings as they open and the only thing I can think is to close them once again. But something inside pushes me, forces me to open and acknowledge the new day. Finally, my eyes open. Immediately, they want only to focus on where you once were.

As reality begins to focus once again, I push myself to sit up. Light pushes through the blinds, illuminating the room and indicating the sunny morn outside. I slowly sway my gaze across the room, hoping that you'll be there. The silence only further confirms what my eyes see as the room is completely empty. The green bottle and two glasses sit on the table, empty and secluded much like my current sentiments. Though my hopes are fading I look to the bathroom, but yet it too remains dark and vacant.

I breathe a sigh of unfulfilled expectations and move my feet out from under the covers. They sting from the coldness of the concrete. After a long stretch, I move myself into the desolation of the room.

Not more than a few steps in, something catches my eye. A small white piece of folded paper has been fixated to the door.

I throw myself at it, lunging like a careless pup after a new toy. I'm not more than a few short meters away when something stops me in my tracks. Sudden instant pain shoots up my leg as my small toe collides with the foot of the sofa. Instantly, my first instinct is to kick the villainous pole which only manages to succeed further in damaging my already victimized limb. I bite my lip hard, attempting to hold back and subdue the pain. I mutter how much I hate the stupid thing, then refocus back to the task at hand. I limp the last few feet and snatch the paper off the door.

I resist my first urge to immediately open the letter and withhold the excitement growing with me. I open it and surprised to see its contents. A simple seven-digit number with a vivid red imprint of your lips just below. There's no name, and no other details other than what you've provided. I take the note and move to the sofa, sitting in the middle. I grab my trousers and jumble through its pocket's contents until I grasp my phone.

I swipe the screen and press the green button at the bottom. I enter the numbers and am just about to call, when I stop. I think for a moment contemplating my next course of action. I look at this line of digits and slide my own to the save contacts button. I'm unsure what to save it under with so few actual details that I can provide the little machine.

After a few moments, I end up resigning the contact name to the a few descriptive words that come to mind; Autumn's embers. I also change your ringtone to something more memorable should conversation's continue. I flip through the options and settle on foreigner's urgency and click save. I stare intently at the title and resist all urges to immediately press the contact call button.

I know this game well... I wait...

Well, hope you enjoyed. Depending on things, I may continue this to see where it plays out. In my mind, their next encounter will be at an upscale restaurant meeting with friends. Be nice to see how things progress should they find each other again, but who knows... Anyways, take care and thanks for taking the time to have a read. Comments are appreciated.

I'd also like to take a final moment to thank the members of R4R30Plus for all the support and a certain Sour individual who nudged my story in the right direction. Much appreciated folks and thank you all for keeping me alive when sleep just wouldn't come.

Take care folks and hope to see you again soon.

With love,

D. Montague.