Midnight Plush

It was that short moment of evening when the sky glows like a blue jewel and if you don't stop what you are doing and enjoy it, you miss it. She could see it through the windowpanes, and she cocked her head toward them, stopping the conversation.

"You see that, the color of the sky? I love it when it looks like that. It's so..." she searched for a word, "...peaceful."

"Refracted sunlight has an emotional effect," he said, looking interested.

She smiled widely. That was Isaac, always analyzing everything. Except the one thing he should have been analyzing the most: himself. He never understood the dark forces that drove him, and he had sublimated so much of himself that he wasn't aware he even had any emotions. But she was. And she loved him. And she suspected he loved her, or would have if he could only breach the fort he had built around himself.

Initially it had been a meeting of minds. She was introverted, her personality coagulated around ideas rather than experiences. So when they had met at a party, after painfully introducing themselves, it had been a shock that they had so much to talk about, so much in common. Soon Wallflower Amy and Antisocial Isaac had retreated from the commotion--together. They talked for hours, the kind of fast, fascinated talk most people reserved for gossip. About everything from viruses to theology to whether Macs were better than PCs. They did the same at the next party, and the next, until finally Shy Isaac got up the courage to ask Amy the Brain out. Now they were together constantly, and connected more and more tightly. Except in the physical sense. They had had talks that she could only classify as intimate, but Isaac had never even held her hand, and she was pretty sure he was clueless about physical affection.

She, however, was not. There had been one long-term relationship, a nice love, that had ended when the guy had gotten a job the whole way across the country. He'd not been her intellectual equal, but he was a good man and a good lover. Now her mind was happy, but her body was in overdrive demanding sex--demanding Isaac.

She swallowed. They were in the living room, her sitting on the sofa, him in a chair pulled up opposite her so they could talk face to face. Now how am I going to do this? she thought. Seduce a guy whose body is just a carrying case for his brain? She could ruin everything if she freaked him out. But...she could also unleash him, and liberate a love that would make Antony and Cleopatra look like Beavis and Butthead.

"Everything has an emotional impact," she said finally. "And now it's almost dark, and that has an emotional charge as well."

"How?" he said. His face was half-silhouette now, lit only by the small lamp in the corner of the room. But he was leaning toward her, interested.

She drew a breath. "Velvet darkness," she said, making her voice smooth and mysterious. "Midnight plush. You see how intimate it sounds?"

Was it her imagination, or did his face flush? Briefly his eyes fluttered down; then he dared to look into hers. His lips opened a little and then he murmured, "Yes, I see."

So there was just one little crack in the wall of the fort.

"Do you feel it?"

"What?"

"The intimacy."

"Er...yes." Again his eyes fluttered down.

The cushions rustled as she slid toward him. "I do too," she said.

"I...ah..." his mind was stuck in some kind of Mobius strip, or else it was trying to force a new pathway. She waited to see which it was, and then he moved his hand forward and lay his fingers against hers. She was stunned at how intense the shock of pleasure was, just at this one simple movement. True, she hadn't made love in a while, but this was more than that. It was different now because Isaac was her mate. There could be no other man, because no other man was like him.

He was looking at her with deep concentration, and she could guess that realizing she was his mate too was taking some time to synthesize. Or maybe it was more. Finally he said, in an aching voice, "I know nothing about this."

"About sex, you mean?" she said, twining her fingers with his.

He nodded, looking unhappy.

"Well, then, we'll learn together."

"But you have already..."

"Yes."

"Then how will I..."

"You will. Trust me. You're a man, and it comes naturally."

I scored big points calling him a man!

Gently she lay her free hand on his knee. His body was quaking, and even in the low light she could see he was already hard. So, slowly, she slid her hand up his thigh, till she had her prize. He startled slightly, and exhaled a shaky breath, eyes closing. She ran her palm over him, feeling him swelling, lengthening, and he opened up to her. She switched to just her fingertips and dragged them along the length of him, and he pressed forward into her touch.

"Do you like that?"

"Mmhhf."

"I like it too. I like touching you."

"Aaahh." His eyes were heavy with desire, burning, his lips open and flushed, body pushed toward her, hands gripping the chair legs.

"Do you want more?"

He nodded.

"Then why don't you kiss me."

She could see nervousness and excitement duking it out in his mind; then excitement won and he caught her by the waist and pulled, and she came willingly into his lap.

"I don't know how to do this," he whispered.

"It doesn't matter." Inspiration smiled on her again. "I don't want the kiss just because it's a kiss. I want it because it's your kiss."

"Oh," he said, and slowly, timidly almost, approached her face with his. His nose slid alongside hers, and then his lips onto hers. She wanted to devour him, but she willed herself to let him take the lead, only coaching him subtly, parting her lips under his and then reconnecting, till he found the rhythm and lost some of his restraint. Her lips burned as he kissed her from side to side, trying to get the most contact he could, their breath mingling between them. Finally he drew back a little, and she ran her fingers down his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble. His arms were around her, fingers splayed out across her back.

"Do you want more," he said softly.

"Yes."

He shifted his hips a little, nestling his erection right where it should be. She was wet already; now she tightened as a stab of pleasure coursed through her pelvis. He kissed her again, this time with no hesitation, exploring her lips until she opened them and his tongue flicked out. She raised the tip of her tongue to his, and at the texture her nipples tightened, all her veins seemed to constrict. It was just the tips of their tongues, the masculine smell of him filling her nose, his hands now running up and down her back. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his hips rocking under her, and finally he blurted out, "Oh God, I can't wait any more!"

He picked her up like she was a feather and wheeled her through the door and to the bed. There was going to be no thinking now, only the essence of man and woman loving each other. He flayed off his clothes in a mad whirl of limbs, and she didn't care if there was a lack of romantic undressing; she was beyond that anyway, so she pulled her own clothing off and then Isaac grabbed her and they tumbled onto the bed. It was almost as if it were new to her, the feeling of another's skin; she ran her hands over him, acquainting herself with the contours of his body, feeling him begin to take her over. "I'm sorry--I can't wait--" he gasped, and quickly she guided him, rising up into him as he pushed down into her.

"Uhhh," he moaned, unable to form even one cogent word. It was like lightning ricocheting inside his body, leaving him weak and tense at the same time. Somehow his body knew what to do, and he began to move, finding the right rhythm, feeling her following beneath him. What he wanted to say was: Oh God, I love you so much, I need you, never leave me, but his tongue was suddenly five inches thick and all he could do was mutter over and over, "Oh God, oh God, oh God." It was a delirium, a mania, so that he could only think in pictures, and the pictures were: the pressure of their skins together, the wet tightness of her around him, her closed-eyed face with lips open in pleasure--pleasure that he was giving her.

She had her hands on his hips, feeling the muscles flex over and over as he gave her the whole length of him again and again. She could hear him breathing faster, felt him moving faster, knew he wouldn't last much longer; and then he bucked and screamed, and she felt him pulse inside her, shuddering. "Stay right there--" she said, and moved a few more times against him, till her own body dissolved and then shattered, and she rocked upward, whispering his name.

He came down beside her and she nuzzled into his shoulder. He slid his arm under her neck, looking over at her--his lover, his mate. He shouldn't have to ask, he thought, but the question was pressing against his mouth with the force of a tide.

"Did I do well?"

She smiled. Several wisecracking replies presented themselves, but she knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear. So she simply said, "Yes, you did."

He wanted to respond, but his eyes were sliding closed, his thoughts becoming disjointed, and he drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later he woke up. She was still lying along him, not sleeping but just relaxing. He jogged her slightly, and she draped her leg across his abdomen.

The agony of another question. The moment of truth.

"Amy."

"Hmm?"

"I--well, er..." Oh, just say it! "Will you, would you, marry me?"

She sat up, gasped.

"If you want to, I mean." Please say yes! I can't live without you!

"Oh, do I ever want to! Yes!"

]]**[[

They lay silently together, with no need for words. She looked at him. Isaac's hair had gone gray, and two pregnancies had taken a toll on her body, but that was the way it was supposed to be, wasn't it? Growing old together, growing into each other. She ran her hand across his now slightly convex belly.

"That tickles."

She giggled.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" He rolled over, half on top of her.

"Shh, you'll wake up the kids."

He sighed and smiled. "Well, given that they exist, I think they know what we've been doing all these years."

"I've never heard you complain."

"Who would be that crazy?" He kissed along her cheek, to her ear--he knew what that did to her. Now his breath in her ear: "Because I love you, lady."

"Oh, you're the man."

"Fifteen years of practice." Now he slid himself over her, and she gave in. The kids were asleep, and her body was awake, still demanding Isaac. She came up to him as he came down to her, and the circle they had created was sealed again.