So Many Years

He pulled her up to him and laid a kiss upon her lips that reflected all that he felt about what was to come, and he tasted himself on her, and though he could not physically stir down below, he was aroused by this and knew that he wanted to have her, often and completely during the days he would be there. For those six days, he had seven years of lovemaking to share with her. For those six days, he had to make her the woman he had so many times told her she was; he had to gild her memory of him, and he had to make every kiss, every stroke, every tiny, tiny lick worth it, and more, because certainly the Girlfriend would not approve of this story. Surely the guilt would interfere with one of their sessions during those six days.

But right now, there was only her, she for whom he had waited so long—so many years. Right now, there was only the pungent aroma of her sweet sex drawing him in; there was only the longing in her eyes as he turned her over and stalked his way down her fair, soft skin and removed her pants; there was only her need to be mastered by him and by his skill and by his promises. 'I owe you one, babe.' He didn't know if he thought it, if he whispered it, or if the thought jumped between their minds like a wave sent out into the universe; no less, he nestled himself between those long, long legs and he cast a gaze up to her that hinted of everything he wanted her to experience.

And between them, hanging tangible in the air, was something that blew in on the breeze, that breeze brought on by the romance of the trees around them, and a shadow passed over the moon and he descended on her, as darkness descended on them, and the only sound before all the light was shut out was the catch in her throat as lust sealed it shut. It had been so many years.