One Starry Night
You're sitting on a bench at the top of a cliff overlooking Lake Ontario. To one side the city lights of Toronto are gleaming, casting reflections on the surface of the lake. The reds and yellows of the sunset have faded, and the stars now have dominion over the sky. It's a beautiful night. You have a decision to make, one that troubles you, so you've come here, to what you've come to regard as your special place. Somehow the clarity of the air always brings with it clarity of mind, and so you've gotten into the habit of coming here to think, to meditate, to reflect, and to make life-altering decisions. So inwardly-focused are you, that you don't hear the footsteps, don't see the figure coming your way until he's almost upon you. You gasp once in surprise. His head is bowed, as if he too is lost in thought, so that his long hair partially obscures his face from your view, and the set of his shoulders tells you that he's carrying the weight of the world upon them. At the sound of your indrawn breath, he looks in your direction, and though his face is still in shadow, what you can see of it tells you that he's as troubled about something as your are, perhaps more so. "Forgive me for intruding, I'll move on." He takes a step or two away. "No, it's all right. You're not intruding." You slide over on the bench, making room for him, and looking into your eyes as if searching for something, he accepts your invitation. "Thank you."
You sit in silence for a few minutes. Now that you see his face clearly, you can see how young he is, but you get the feeling that his eyes have seen...too much. Surely, you think, nobody so young should be so burdened. You break the silence. "You look like you have a lot on your mind. Would you like to talk?" He chuckles once then replies, "I was going to ask you the same question." Now that he's close to you, you notice his voice: deep, resonant, not the voice of a young man at all. And you see that his eyes are the color of the lake at mid-day. Impossibly blue. He's looking at you as if you were the only person in his world, as if he could see right into your soul. Suddenly you shiver, and while the night has become a little cooler, you both know it's not from the cold. Nevertheless, he removes his coat and drapes it around your shoulders. It smells wonderful. Musk, and something you can't identify. You close your eyes as you breathe in the scent. When you open them, you find him bending over you, one hand on either shoulder. He crouches down so that his eyes are level with yours once again, smiles, and asks, "Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"
You hesitate. "Please tell me," he asks again, and he looks at you with concern in his eyes. You don't usually reveal much about yourself, but here, in the quiet darkness, with this stranger for company, you find yourself wanting to trust him, to confide in him. So, you tell him about your relationships, and your friendships, and how somehow the line between the two has blurred. You tell him things you would never tell a friend, especially not your friends! You get up, and you pace, and sometimes you yell, and all the while he's listening, which is what you need. But when you feel yourself start to cry, balling your hands into tight fists, he's suddenly behind you with a hand on your shoulder. You turn around and melt into his embrace, letting him hold you and caress your back until you're cried out. He pulls back just enough to take your fist in his hands, and gently coaxes your fingers open. He caresses your palm with his thumb, soothing away the red nail marks before tenderly kissing it. You've kept your head down, looking at your hand in his, not wanting him to see your tear-reddened eyes. But with one long finger under your chin he lifts your face and you meet his eyes. They're full of understanding, and you can tell he's experienced something similar recently. "You do understand, don't you?" you whisper with relief. He kisses your lips once, softly. "More than you know."
His voice is so soft, so gentle, as is his kiss. You lean forward into another one, your arms around him, one hand fondling the nape of his neck, the other his back, while he caresses your face with gentle fingertips, wiping the last of your tears away with his thumbs. He deepens the kiss, urging your lips open with his. Your tongues meet in celebration as each of you pulls the other in closer, your bodies pressed together. He pulls back for a moment, an unspoken question in his eyes. You nod once, and watch as his eyes catch fire. He motions to a patch of thick green grass not far off. As you make your way there arm in arm, you realize that you have no obligations to anyone else, you owe nothing to anyone. That was made quite clear to you! As you reach the grassy area, he takes you by the shoulders and looks into your eyes. "This isn't about spite, or about revenge. It's about two people who need each other, if only for tonight." You nod once in sudden understanding: He's not just talking about you, but himself as well. He plucks away the coat you still have around your shoulders, and lays it upon the soft grass. You shiver, more with anticipation than with cold, as he takes you into his arms, saying, "I'll keep you warm."
Gently, he lays you down upon his coat, safe within the protection of his arms. The fragrance of the grass, combined with his own unique spicy scent, is exhilirating, and for the second time that night, you close your eyes as you breathe in the heady aroma. You open your eyes to find him staring at you intently. Here in the deep shadows of the night, his eyes appear much darker than the blue you've found so beguiling. You could swear they're almost black. Recklessly, wildly, you take his face in your hands and pull him to you, kissing him with a passion you never suspected you were capable of. You moan in his mouth, begging wordlessly for more, and he growls his response. He takes your hands and pins them to either side of your head, your fingers intertwined with his. His warm, sensuous lips trace a trail along your jaw to your ear, where he lingers a moment to nibble at the lobe, then whispers "Let me give you pleasure!" before continuing his way to the soft, sensitive skin of your throat...
He begins playing with the flesh of your neck, sometimes licking and kissing, sometimes nibbling and sucking. Each nibble, each lick sends jolts of electricity surging through you, over and over, until you're ravenous with desire. You're panting and moaning, almost sobbing, but you manage to get one word out: "More!" That's when you feel it: a sudden sharp pain followed by wave upon wave of sheer bliss, pleasure that makes you cry out again and again as you buck and arch violently against him. You want to put your arms around him, to press him to you, but he's still holding you down. You struggle, knowing it's futile, while his ministrations continue, sending you higher, and higher, making you thrash and grind, moan and gasp. Finally, you scream as the most powerful and joyous surge of ecstasy you've ever known courses through you. He lets go of your hands and you throw your arms around him, holding him tight against you, hoping, praying you never have to release him.
Soon, you float back to earth, your breathing slows, your heart no longer pounds. He lays next to you, taking you with him so that you're snuggled against his side, his arms around you. He's stroking your arm absently, up and down, making you tingle. You feel cherished and protected. He nudges your chin upward with his, then kisses your lips once, twice, before placing tender butterfly kisses on your eyelids, your cheeks, your temples. Finally you feel calm enough to speak: "Thank you. I really needed this." The sound of his voice sends aftershocks rushing through you as he replies, "We needed each other." Curious, you ask, "You never told me what was bothering you when I first saw you. Will you now?"
"It's not that different from what you're going through with your friends. The thing is, you can't live a life based on the expectations of other people. I think that's what we've both been doing, to some extent." You nod once, understanding. Then you shiver, with cold this time. The night's gotten chilly, and it's time to leave. He stands, then helps you up, and together you walk down the path to the main road to you car. You offer him a ride, but he declines. He opens the door and you get in. He strokes your cheek as he kisses you once more through the open window. You press his hand to your cheek, then kiss his palm. You start the car and drive away, watching him through your rear-view mirror until he melts into the night. But as you head back toward your life, you are filled with new hope and new resolve.