Our short story,...

trinityelizatrinityeliza Posts: 426
edited January 2006 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
When I was a little girl I used to delight in dancing with an imaginary prince. My gown was a pink blanket around my waist. I was his, and he was mine.

No longer that little girl, I am still prone to that delight, if only in fantasy… One night not long ago, my prince found me again - or perhaps we found each other. Since then there have been many more nights. Nights when dreams have become my reality, and nights when reality has dressed up as a dream. This is one of those nights - hold my thoughts, and see through my eyes…

We enjoy walking hand-in-hand, crossing through the crowded corridors of our favorite hotel, seeing the elegant couples, both young and old, passing by. Music fills the air with melodic rhythms reaching our bodies from across the dancing halls. Something stronger than our attraction for music guides our feet as we search for the back gardens that we know so well.

The night wears clear skies, and a full moon blossoms, almost caressing the fancy buildings that surround us. As we approach the gates between the pools and the hotel beach we can see other couples near by, very young kids laughing loud at life. With the sound of the ocean tearing the night, the wind tries to cool our skin, yet our bodies feel so warm… We sit for a while on a beach cot, kissing each other so tenderly that one could think we were dating for the first time. His hands caress my waist, reaching slowly for my breasts, and this profound, old mystery of desire begins to grow all over my thighs. I say nothing; I just look at his eyes with the same fire he gives to me. A need for intimacy guides our feet, and once again we walk, embracing each other’s waists. We walk toward the hotel gardens, filled with tall palm trees, exotic sights, and a blend of greens, reds, oranges, and yellows, but this need was overcoming and all we could think about …

We’ve been here several times, yet it all seems so new! The exotic gardens, the muted lights, and several open tents, covered with long curtains that resemble a scene from “The Thousand and One Nights”. During the day, these tents are massage rooms; at night they are rooms filled with silence, inviting, calling without words to lovers.

He takes me by that hand and leads me behind a curtain. My sleeveless red and black dress disappears before his eyes. I tremble with thirst and anticipation, feeling his hands sliding beneath my undergarments - warm hands, burning hands, reaching my already wet inner lips, teasing, tenderly giving wordless pleasure. We are playing a game of caressing tongues, our mouths as one, our bodies so close. I want to touch him, to feel his flesh between my fingers. He helps me by unzipping his trousers. Want increases inside our veins as we touch each other’s bodies. He wants all… My body is naked in front of him, and right there, without need for a bed he pulls my body against his, and puts his pleasure inside me. No more thirst, no more longing, my moans fill the gardens, and his passion fills my lips. We kiss, and lick each other’s mouths and nipples; we become one flavor, just one body.

The next morning, the masseuse came to the lover’s tent, and found red rose petals spread over her nest, and the smell of the night ocean between the curtain folds.
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