Melanie Ch. 04

But the void was in both of them and it was imperative that it was filled. Their movements quickened, almost imperceptibly at first, and he sucked her neck as she gasped, rising and falling on him as he thrust deep into her. Their ride together became a maelstrom of emotions and sensations as they thrust and twined, melded together yet still apart, wanting to remain in the almost-painful moment of joy, yet seeking the release which transcends it.

His finger sank in her arse and she arced over him, face a paroxysm of wonder at where she was, and as she sank on him yet again his balls tightened.

- My sweet darling, he grunted, you are my world. Her mouth opened on his and the explosion shook them as they orgasmed together He licked her eyes as the lids fluttered, eyeballs almost out of sight upwards. Held her close as they both came down, eventually re-emerged into les Jardins de Luxembourg. His fingers stroked her back through the silk and he drew her tight into his shoulder.

Her eyes slowly rose to meet his: Darling? He stroked her cheek and she shivered.

- No words, my sweetness, no words. No need for them. And they nuzzled close and warm, his cock still inside her, till a white miniature poodle trotted up to where they sat, and sniffed around them. Melanie hastily lifted herself off him, spunk running down her thighs, and they had just rearranged themselves by the time the patrician lady owner of the poodle appeared. She merely nodded at them, called her dog, and stalked off again.

Sandy kissed Melanie's head, loving her soft long locks: Ach darling. I know this is total madness, but I am in love with you. When you leave Paris you'll take all my love with you.

She turned her face up to his: I know that, my sweet dill. But nobody has to leave yet?

He knew the look by now, the half-closing as her eyes hooded over. Loved it, loved her need, and though his cock was finished for the present, his mouth and fingers weren't. He knelt at her feet and moved his head up under the silk, absorbing her fragrance as he licked into her. Her legs parted wide as his tongue cleaned his spunk from her thighs and she moaned when it touched between her legs. He flicked at her clit, knowing her need, no teasing now. She flinched as he brushed her, eager to please her, worshipping at the altar of her sexuality, and as her body flexed before him, his mouth fastened on her clit. His fingers sought her anus and she rose from the bench -- how well he had come to sense her in just a couple of days -- and as his fingers sank in her she arced further up, keening as his mouth adored her sex. Then she went rigid. And groaned, the most intensely sexual sound he'd ever heard. He continued licking and sucking but she pushed his head away as her body subsided.

- My sweet lover, she muttered. I'm done, I can't take any more.

- Thank fuck for that, he smiled, leaning over her now, pulling her mouth to his. But she was spluttering with laughter.

- Uh, had enough now, have we?

He muttered: I thought you were supposed to love me? And she folded over, her face flushed and smooth in the afterglow of orgasm, consumed with giggles.

*****

They walked in the gardens for a while, the empty tug of their imminent parting bearing heavily on them. Then he remembered something.

- Melanie, you haven't opened your envelope yet?

She blinked uncomprehendingly: Envelope? Oh! My prize you mean? No, I haven't, silly me! Must have been too busy. She dug in her handbag and withdrew the paper, nails digging to open it. Read for a minute, looked up into Sandy's face: Um, Sandy, it's Glasgow you live in, isn't it? An equivocal smile played round her mouth.

- Aye, Glasgow, why? What's the prize love? She passed him the letter and he read. Looked in her eyes, something close to disbelief in his: This is real, right, you didn't make it up? You didn't forge it for a joke?

- No, it's real. At least I think it is. She took the letter from him and re-read it: No, it's quite clear. My prize is that I am invited to do a reading, and some tuition, at a Poetry Festival in the School of Creative Writing at the University of Glasgow. In three months time. All expenses paid. From Adelaide. Oh Sandy! Her face crumpled: Maybe there is a god after all? She flung herself at him, arms round his neck.

They clung to each other for minutes, sobbing and laughing, kissing all over each others' faces. Then he drew back from her: But will you be able to attend lassie?

- Will I be able to attend? Too right I will! Come hell or high water I'll be there! What a privilege, an honour! Even if you weren't there I'd want to go, but Sandy! It lasts a nearly a week! We can be together for a whole week. And I'm sure I can make arrangements at home to allow me a holiday whilst I'm there. You will have time to give me a holiday, won't you darling?

- Oh, my love... He drew her to him and their mouths fused, arms tight around each other as they absorbed the news. Both sensed that this extraordinary coincidence could change their lives. Eventually they moved apart. Their eyes were sparkling into each other but there were unspoken questions there too. Sandy glanced at his watch: nearly five.

Maybe we should get a coffee, a glass of wine? This has changed everything. We need to talk.