The only reason I haven't deleted this is because I love the comments.
Yet another story. Rather girly.
She leaned back in her chair, sipping a fruity drink. The sides of the glass were frosting, and her fingers were ice cold. She didn't mind, though, the temperature was close to the hundreds, even in the shade, and the breeze that teased her hair was anything but cool. She pulled the lime slice from the side and sucked it lighty, her tongue curling deliciously in response. Her eyes scanned the horizon, where the sun was slowly beginning to make love to the sea, spreading its color across the sky. A lovely sight, for certain, but lovers are soon parted, and darkness would come, consuming everything.
She found it difficult to grasp the fact that she was on her honeymoon. Her honeymoon. It wasn't that she never thought she'd have one, she just hadn't been expecting it to come for a few more years. She was only twenty-one. When he'd proposed, she'd accepted without hesitation, and she had no regrets about that. It had all just been so sudden. They'd met at work, dated for just about a year, and gotten engaged last summer. Now it was February, and here she was, sitting on the gorgeous deck of a little bungalow in Guadeloupe, watching the sun set over a private beach, and drinking a ten-dollar colada. It was insane.
Thinking of her new husband, she wondered where he was. He'd left quite some time before, claiming a full bladder and an empty stomach. She figured that had been at least fifteen minutes ago. Leaving her glass on the table, she ventured back through the sliding glass door, shivering when a chill raced up her spine from the slight drop in temperature.
"Honey?" she called. No answer. She tried again, a little louder this time, with the same results. Now a little concerned, she crossed the living room and entered the hallway, pausing to peek in each door as she passed. She quickly found herself at the slightly-ajar door to the bedroom. "Sweetie?" she said quietly, tapping on the wood with the knuckle of her index finger.
"Hold on a sec," he replied, making her jump slightly. Once her heart started again, she wondered what he was up to. She had an idea that the flickering light seeping out was candlelight, so she guessed it was going to be something cute that was going to end in sex. She grinned to herself, waiting as the minutes ticked by until, finally, he summoned her.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside, then gasped as a wave of heat hit her. The house had been cool thanks to a few ceiling fans and open windows, but the bedroom was just as warm -- if not more so -- than outside. After a moment, she realized that she had been right about the candles after all, but she had only expected a few. Instead, she was greeted with dozens! They were everywhere: the dresser, the television cabinet, the shelves, the headboard. There were even a few on the floor, and she insanely worried about the wax dripping onto the carpet. Then, he appeared, stepping in from the small balcony.
She felt the usual stirring in her nether regions as her eyes took him in, though it was more pronounced than usual. He was shirtless, as he had been for almost the entirety of the vacation, and he had developed a deep, healthy tan. His pants hung low on his hips, allowing a glimpse of the pale skin beneath the tan line, guiding the train of thought to what was under those pants. He didn't have any boxers on, she noticed. With a soft growl, she moved to him, placing her hands on his chest and reaching on tip-toe to kiss him. The contrast between his hot skin and her chilled hands was exquisite.
This was the longing that had drawn her to him in the first place. She'd been attracted to him immediately, when he introduced himself on her first day on the job, and, as time had passed, she'd gotten to know him quite well, and adored every piece of him. It still amazed her that she actually had him, that he was hers.
He broke the latest kiss and gazed down at her, his pretty eyes searching hers. She felt a goofy grin spreading across her face, and tried to tell herself that her knees were not suddenly feeling a little wobbly. He bent, and she allowed him to pick her up, kicking her feet a little and giggling as he carried her over to the bed. He lay her down and settled his body gingerly on top of hers, kissing her neck and running a hand up and down her side. She sighed in relaxed pleasure, but it turned quickly into a low purr as his lips gave way to gentle teeth. After a few minutes of this, he grew impatient, and his hands became more bold. Soon, her earlier prediction came true, and they made love, slowly and sweetly.
When it was over, he remained on top of her, breathing easily. Despite the lackadaisical romp, they were both drenched in sweat, thanks to the heat of the candles, which were now half melted. She squirmed a little, hot now, and he propped himself up on his elbows, a laughing smile just barely touching the corners of his mouth. In response, she scrunched up her nose, stuck her tongue out, and then began trying to escape.
They both ended up on the floor, laughing. At an opportune moment, she jumped up and skittered out of the room, shivering a little at yet another change in temperature, and continued on to the deck. When she finally stopped, her already meager repository of breath was pulled from her lungs. Had she really never seen the ocean at night? The beauty was surprising. The moon was bloated, full or only a night away, hanging low in the sky, illuminating every break in the ocean's surface. Stars shone coldly beyond it. Her vision had never seemed so clear as it did then. She could see every leaf of every plant, and she fathomed that she could even see the dew that was beginning to gather on them. She advanced to the deck railing, hardly blinking, afraid to lose her heightened sense.
She barely stifled a scream as arms encircled her waist. It was just him, of course, her new hubby, coming to share the moment with her. Sighing, she relaxed against him, entangling her fingers with his. What a man. What a night.
What a life.
Weak ending, I know, but oh well. I'm no writer.
She leaned back in her chair, sipping a fruity drink. The sides of the glass were frosting, and her fingers were ice cold. She didn't mind, though, the temperature was close to the hundreds, even in the shade, and the breeze that teased her hair was anything but cool. She pulled the lime slice from the side and sucked it lighty, her tongue curling deliciously in response. Her eyes scanned the horizon, where the sun was slowly beginning to make love to the sea, spreading its color across the sky. A lovely sight, for certain, but lovers are soon parted, and darkness would come, consuming everything.
She found it difficult to grasp the fact that she was on her honeymoon. Her honeymoon. It wasn't that she never thought she'd have one, she just hadn't been expecting it to come for a few more years. She was only twenty-one. When he'd proposed, she'd accepted without hesitation, and she had no regrets about that. It had all just been so sudden. They'd met at work, dated for just about a year, and gotten engaged last summer. Now it was February, and here she was, sitting on the gorgeous deck of a little bungalow in Guadeloupe, watching the sun set over a private beach, and drinking a ten-dollar colada. It was insane.
Thinking of her new husband, she wondered where he was. He'd left quite some time before, claiming a full bladder and an empty stomach. She figured that had been at least fifteen minutes ago. Leaving her glass on the table, she ventured back through the sliding glass door, shivering when a chill raced up her spine from the slight drop in temperature.
"Honey?" she called. No answer. She tried again, a little louder this time, with the same results. Now a little concerned, she crossed the living room and entered the hallway, pausing to peek in each door as she passed. She quickly found herself at the slightly-ajar door to the bedroom. "Sweetie?" she said quietly, tapping on the wood with the knuckle of her index finger.
"Hold on a sec," he replied, making her jump slightly. Once her heart started again, she wondered what he was up to. She had an idea that the flickering light seeping out was candlelight, so she guessed it was going to be something cute that was going to end in sex. She grinned to herself, waiting as the minutes ticked by until, finally, he summoned her.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside, then gasped as a wave of heat hit her. The house had been cool thanks to a few ceiling fans and open windows, but the bedroom was just as warm -- if not more so -- than outside. After a moment, she realized that she had been right about the candles after all, but she had only expected a few. Instead, she was greeted with dozens! They were everywhere: the dresser, the television cabinet, the shelves, the headboard. There were even a few on the floor, and she insanely worried about the wax dripping onto the carpet. Then, he appeared, stepping in from the small balcony.
She felt the usual stirring in her nether regions as her eyes took him in, though it was more pronounced than usual. He was shirtless, as he had been for almost the entirety of the vacation, and he had developed a deep, healthy tan. His pants hung low on his hips, allowing a glimpse of the pale skin beneath the tan line, guiding the train of thought to what was under those pants. He didn't have any boxers on, she noticed. With a soft growl, she moved to him, placing her hands on his chest and reaching on tip-toe to kiss him. The contrast between his hot skin and her chilled hands was exquisite.
This was the longing that had drawn her to him in the first place. She'd been attracted to him immediately, when he introduced himself on her first day on the job, and, as time had passed, she'd gotten to know him quite well, and adored every piece of him. It still amazed her that she actually had him, that he was hers.
He broke the latest kiss and gazed down at her, his pretty eyes searching hers. She felt a goofy grin spreading across her face, and tried to tell herself that her knees were not suddenly feeling a little wobbly. He bent, and she allowed him to pick her up, kicking her feet a little and giggling as he carried her over to the bed. He lay her down and settled his body gingerly on top of hers, kissing her neck and running a hand up and down her side. She sighed in relaxed pleasure, but it turned quickly into a low purr as his lips gave way to gentle teeth. After a few minutes of this, he grew impatient, and his hands became more bold. Soon, her earlier prediction came true, and they made love, slowly and sweetly.
When it was over, he remained on top of her, breathing easily. Despite the lackadaisical romp, they were both drenched in sweat, thanks to the heat of the candles, which were now half melted. She squirmed a little, hot now, and he propped himself up on his elbows, a laughing smile just barely touching the corners of his mouth. In response, she scrunched up her nose, stuck her tongue out, and then began trying to escape.
They both ended up on the floor, laughing. At an opportune moment, she jumped up and skittered out of the room, shivering a little at yet another change in temperature, and continued on to the deck. When she finally stopped, her already meager repository of breath was pulled from her lungs. Had she really never seen the ocean at night? The beauty was surprising. The moon was bloated, full or only a night away, hanging low in the sky, illuminating every break in the ocean's surface. Stars shone coldly beyond it. Her vision had never seemed so clear as it did then. She could see every leaf of every plant, and she fathomed that she could even see the dew that was beginning to gather on them. She advanced to the deck railing, hardly blinking, afraid to lose her heightened sense.
She barely stifled a scream as arms encircled her waist. It was just him, of course, her new hubby, coming to share the moment with her. Sighing, she relaxed against him, entangling her fingers with his. What a man. What a night.
What a life.
Weak ending, I know, but oh well. I'm no writer.