Too Late for Love

"My god...it's full of stars."

Simon followed Irene's gaze upward to the vast dome of clear sky that hung over their heads, seemingly so close he could reach up and touch it. Then he looked back down at his fiancée and grinned. "I love you when you get geeky," he said.

He knew exactly what she meant, though. The sight was a little more familiar to him than to her, but it always left him just as awestruck as the first time he saw it. This far out from the city, away from the light pollution, you could really see the stars in a way you couldn't at home. Instead of a few faint, twinkling dots, the sky practically teemed with a panoply of gleaming lights. Simon was no astronomer--he could just barely pick out Orion and the Big Dipper--but something like that hit you right down in the gut.

It also reminded you how late it was. "Come on," he said, hefting the cooler out of the trunk. "One more load, and I think we can leave everything else for tomorrow."

Irene grabbed a bag and dashed ahead to get the door for him. "Mmmmm," she purred. "I feel like I'm marrying into royalty. One of the privileged Minnesota aristocracy, those lucky few who have a cabin on 'the lake'. Remind me to thank your uncle yet again for letting us stay here."

"Not a problem," Simon puffed out as he walked the cooler into the cabin. "He...oof...he always says that he doesn't get enough use out of the place." Simon let the cooler fall next to the fridge with a thud. "Whoof! You don't notice just how much two people eat in a week until you have to bring it all up in one load." They didn't technically have to bring all the food along with them; there was a little general store about fifteen miles away. But part of their unspoken agreement was that for the next seven days, they would be leaving the car keys by the door, the cell phones off, and the laptops back in Minneapolis. This was their first real vacation together, and they wanted to make the most of it.

Irene was already unpacking the second cooler, slotting food into the fridge and freezer with an almost military precision. "I'm just glad that your uncle's idea of 'roughing it' doesn't extend to a lack of electricity. Means I'll be able to do some real cooking." Even though they'd eaten on the drive up, Simon's mouth watered a little at the thought; spending a whole week without having to order out because one or both of them was too busy to cook sounded a little like heaven.

It seemed like only a moment before Irene had everything stashed away, but part of that probably came from the fact that Simon kept spacing out. The long drive from the Twin Cities, the excitement and anticipation of the trip, the hot, sticky work of unloading the car...it was all beginning to catch up to him. "Come on," he said to her with a weary smile, "let me show you the bedroom."

Irene smiled flirtatiously at him. "Is that an invitation, Mister Landry?" she asked, brushing her hand along his arm.

Simon chuckled. "It's an invitation to bed, at least," he replied. "It's a little too late for anything else. Like unpacking, that will probably..." He paused to let out a yawn that was only a little bit theatrical. "...have to wait until I've had a good night's sleep." He took Irene's arm and led her into the bedroom. "I should probably have stopped a few more times, but then we'd have gotten in even later. And dealing with traffic on these little two-lane highways always--"

Irene's squeal of delight interrupted him. "Oh my god!" she gasped. "Is this actually our view? I mean, it's not going to go away when we wake up?"

Despite his stiff legs and aching arms, looking at Irene right now made Simon feel better than he had in years. Irene's eyes actually seemed to glow in the moonlight as she took in the calm waters of the lake, perfectly reflecting the starry skies like an endless dome of the heavens all around them. Her face was filled with a serene happiness so profound that he almost didn't want to interrupt it with a kiss.

He kissed her. (It was only 'almost', after all.) "All ours," he said. "Here, let me get the lights so we can see our way to bed."

Irene grabbed his wrist and pulled him close. "Oh, no," she said. "The light is perfect just the way it is. In fact..." She reached around the door frame and switched off the lights in the living room. "There," she said, giving him a kiss of her own. "A beautiful view, a warm bed, and nobody to hear us for miles...and miles...and miles." She punctuated each pause with another kiss. "Do you know what I'm thinking?" she asked.

"I think I do," Simon said with a knowing smile as they headed towards the bed, "but I'm not sure if I can oblige you tonight. The way I'm feeling right now, I think I'm going to fall asleep as soon as I'm horizontal. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is sleeeeepy."

Irene's flirtatious smile turned into a devilish grin. "Oh, I think we both know that's not a problem," she responded, tracing a finger down his chin. "Don't we?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Oh, no," he said. "Don't you even think about it. We're going to have seven days and seven nights for all the kinky sex you want, love." He sat down on the bed with a thump. "Tonight, we need to rest." He looked at Irene. "Well, I need to rest."

"And you will," Irene said in an innocent voice. She looked upwards at the ceiling as though to insist that butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. (Whereas Simon actually knew that her mouth could be quite deliciously warm...but even thinking about that couldn't keep him awake for too much longer.) "You can just relax, honey, and let yourself be as sleepy as you want to be." She smoothed back his hair with a gentle stroking motion.

Simon couldn't help himself; he let out an explosive sigh of exhaustion as he felt Irene's fingers running through his hair. "Oh, this is so unfair," he mumbled, feeling his eyes flutter slightly under Irene's touch. "This is not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to get some sleep."

"Seems like the perfect solution to me," Irene said, looking him straight in the eyes.

That was just about all it took, really. He'd relaxed in trance so many times for her, and he was so used to staring into her eyes and relaxing, and he was very sleepy, and...and he was very sleepy... "This is what I get for dating a hypnotist," he muttered with a tired grin as he sank back onto the pillows.

Irene leaned over him, looking down into his eyes. He felt the weight of her body pressing into his, and it made him feel like he couldn't get up even if he wanted to. He didn't want to, the bed felt too comfortable to imagine moving, but... "This is exactly what you get," she purred out. "You get tired...and your body gets heavy...and you get so very sleepy, don't you, love?"

"Sleepy..." Simon blinked heavily, trying to remember what exactly he was supposed to be fighting here. Irene's words were coaxing him down into a deep, heavy, sleepy trance, just what he wanted and needed when he was so tired from such a long day. He could just relax, and he'd probably be asleep before he knew it.

"Good boy," Irene whispered in his ears. "And you feel so limp...and loose...and lazy...arms and legs like water now, too heavy to move..."

"heavy," Simon sighed out, hearing the soft tones of trance in his voice and remembering, as he always did, that just hearing himself sound like that sent him deeper into hypnosis.

"And you don't need to do anything at all," Irene said. He felt her fingers undoing his buttons, pulling his shirt over his head, running along his bare chest. "It feels so good, and you don't need to do anything but relax...and feel..."

Simon heard the husky tones of arousal in her voice, and he wished he could summon up the energy to respond. He loved her when she was in these moods, when suddenly everything else fell away and the only thing that mattered was satisfying that yearning for each other's sex. But he was so deep already, so sleepy and relaxed and the part of him that could think was receding further and further into the mists of trance with every passing second. He settled for whispering out, "love you," and hoping Irene would understand the rest.

"Love you too, sweetheart," Irene responded. He felt her unzip his pants, and it was only when he felt her nipples brushing against his crotch that Simon realized his eyes had slipped shut somewhere in the past few minutes. When had it happened? He remembered looking into Irene's eyes, he remembered how powerful and magnetic they were, how easily they compelled a deep, sleepy trance... Simon sighed, and let the realization slip away as he fell further into hypnosis.

"Good boy," Irene whispered, and Simon felt his hips buck upwards in dreamy pleasure. Her hands were all over his cock, stroking it to fullness...her hands, and then the soft skin of her tits, whispering like silk against his shaft. "Relax and go deeper for me, love. Deeper and deeper and deeper..." Irene's words dissolved into a moan, and Simon knew he had to be very deeply hypnotized indeed, because every fiber of his being wanted to open his eyes and see the look of lust on Irene's face. But he was so very, very tired...

He didn't have to open his eyes, though. That was what Irene was telling him. That was what was so perfect about the whole thing. He didn't have to move, he didn't have to wake, all he needed to do was just what he was doing now, feeling the pleasure of Irene's touch and letting it build his deep, dreamy arousal. He was so sleepy, but that was just right. That was just perfect.

Simon felt Irene settle onto him, and he let out another sigh of pleasure, but it was drowned out by Irene's moans. She groaned like a starving man at a banquet, grabbing his hands and rocking back and forth on top of him. She was so warm and wet around him, and he knew she needed this so bad; she couldn't wait until tomorrow, she couldn't wait one more second, and he felt like he was sinking into a hot dream of perfect sex with a beautiful woman. He managed to remind himself once that it wasn't a dream; then she clenched around his cock, and he lost the knowledge in a surge of pleasure and never regained it.

It felt so wonderful, Simon knew he'd have to tell Irene about it in the morning. It was so vivid, the way his hips surged upwards in spasms of pleasure, the way her cunt pressed with fiery heat against his crotch as she rode him, the way her uninhibited moans of pleasure sounded like music to his sleepy ears. Even her words, the way she tried to speak, saying "Deeper, deeper, ofuck cumming cumming cumming..." and then dissolved back into more grunts...it was so hot, so sexy that Simon tried to cling to every memory of the dream. He hoped he could do this for real tomorrow, once he wasn't so sleepy. So dreamy. So deep...

"so deep," he heard himself saying, and somehow that was just what he needed. Hearing himself speak in those perfect, vacant tones, imagining himself so deeply hypnotized that he couldn't think at all, just respond...that pushed him over the top so that he felt himself thrust upwards one last time and then cum, his orgasm echoing in his mind with all the more force because there was absolutely nothing to distract him from it. He gasped, moaned, shook, and finally felt himself spurt inside Irene's cunt as she clenched around him again in one last orgasm of her own.

And then Simon felt her cuddle up next to him, and everything after that was lost as he drifted down into sleep again.

THE END