The Poet and His Muse

"You have a lot of images like that," Emily said, her eyes looking at Jason as he spoke then suddenly blurted, "Wow, you have such a twinkle in your eyes."

Emily's sudden statement startled Jason but what surprised him more was when she suddenly moved her lips to his and kissed him. Jason's first response was to pull his mouth away, but couldn't, her lips felt so good, so soft and he knew this moment had been building since she arrived and though he tried ignoring why she said she came there, he also tried denying he found her alluring, tried shoving aside the way he felt earlier when her thigh brushed his, how it became the subject of his new sonnet, how her lips felt like dew on the morning grass absorbing the sunlight, getting warmer and he suddenly found himself returning her kiss, feeling her lips, feeling his tongue wanting to open her mouth and find her tongue but suddenly stopped, pulled his mouth away.

"We can't. This is wrong," Jason said.

"No it's not," Emily said.

"I can't let this happen. I can't," Jason said.

"But you want it too," Emily said. "I see how you look at me. I can feel your desire for me. You don't know me very well, but I know I am meant to be here. You told me you just wrote two sonnets and you know it's because I'm here. I'm right, aren't I?"

"This is crazy," Jason said.

"No it's not, Jason, your poetry brought me here. It was bringing me here ever since the day I found your book in that old book store. It's what caused my old boyfriend to feel jealous and leave and why I had fantasies of you."

"I don't believe this is happening," Jason said, hearing her words, feeling her intensity, feeling her hand reaching for his face, cupping the back of his head, pulling him to her lips, kissing him harder, awakening in him desires he had been fighting and now his lips met hers and he knew he wanted nothing more than to devour her mouth, open his heart and accept, even at his age, what she was offering him. He loved how their tongues felt swirling madly, his bulging cock growing hard, needing to be free of his jeans when she suddenly moved and straddled his legs, their arms around each other as they kissed, her breasts crushed against his chest, his hands moving to her ass, their bodies grinding harder, her jean covered pussy humping him as their intense lust grew hotter when he suddenly lifted her and they stood by the table embracing each other, kissing madly before moving to the long green couch on the other side of the room where she pulled him down on her body, her legs spreading to welcome him and they felt each other's desperate desire to express what was causing their hearts to beat faster, their breath to rise, their passion to take them to the ecstasy they craved like hungry animals needing to satisfy their most primal need. And that's what happened when they frantically undressed, tossing their jeans and shirts and Jason entered her with what started off gently but ended with both of them screaming at the top of their lungs as they both exploded in overwhelming orgasms that made them know that her sudden arrival that morning was a gift to cherish and accept.

Emily made a delicious dinner that night, finding several cans of tuna in the pantry, onions, eggs, noodles, bread crumbs and made a delicious baked casserole she served with a salad of lettuce and spinach from Jason's garden and a simple oil and vinegar dressing. They lit candles, drank two bottles of red wine, talked about their lives, Emily loving how Jason talked about his four children, how when his wife died at forty seven of cancer, though they were divorced, he was there on her death bed at the end, how tears came to his eyes when he remembered her dying words, "Daddy's here." She told him about her mother, how her father left when she was three and he never saw or heard from him, how she married when she was twenty and was divorced at twenty three, how she traveled, worked at various jobs before going back school for her doctorate and here she was finishing her dissertation on the poetry of Jason Petrov.

Eight months later, Jason's collection of sonnets, The Hungry Heart was published to rave reviews in the New York Times and other papers. Emily went with him on his reading tour to a dozen book stores across the country and his book was on the short list for the Pucker Brush award. After the tour, they returned to his cabin where Emily has been revising her dissertation, turning it into a book about Jason's life and work while helping him in the garden. They took long walks with Oscar, sat on his porch watching fireflies, listened to music. She loved when he read her a new poem. They made passionate love, sometimes in the afternoon, always late at night and first thing in the morning. Jason was writing the best poems of his life, sonnets, villanelles, and more and more free verse, poems that flowed from him like never before, he knew, because of her.