Waiting for Him
By Ambrosia Vynne
This story is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
copyright 2002 Ambrosia Vynne
She stood up on the balcony waiting for him. She was surrounded by a view so lovely and awe inspiring she found her eyes occasionally misting. She saw sail boats moving lazily on the silken blueness with a dazzling halo of light surrounding them. She saw a long winding bridge, almost like a finger, pointing its direction to the island. She was taken back by the warm fragrant air that inspired her nostrils to take in deep breaths… eager for more even before they had a chance to exhale. Paradise… it was her private paradise… this place he had taken her to and yes, left her…
They had arrived late on Friday… The expectation of spending some time with him, drew her week into an endless array of hours and minutes that took their time in passing. She found herself earning to be his, each and every moment. To be able to hold him in her arms and not have to let him go, until morning that is. She chided herself that she should, at this time be use to those words he spoke… like a repeat performance, but his performance lasting the span of 15 years. A repeating of words, that each time wrung her emotions and sent her into a stage of despair… Despair on so many different levels… despair of loosing him and perhaps, never seeing him again. And the deeper, more penetrating despair… the despair of knowing she hated herself. She hated her every molecule that put her body and mind together… She hated herself for what she had and planned to continue doing. She had spent 15 years, which included some of the best years of her life… with…
The words… the repeated words… “I got to go”. “Yes, I know… “ “I am sorry but I got to go”. Their loving lasted only an hour or two… sometimes three on those days he could spare more. His loving was unlike anyone else’s… she had compared him with all the other single men in her life, and they all fell short. He was not well endowed or had any special grace as a sexual or erotic beast… he did not have a special hand movement, or a special recipe that equated to the best loving. It was more than all that and yet, so simple… He cared. He cared that his partner enjoyed herself, just as much as he did, and maybe more. He cared that she was comfortable, and ready… He caressed and held, making the experience special, tantalizing instead of just an act… His body melted with his partner, with her… and they formed a single unit. Loving with him was an hour or two long stretches that did not evaporate until those words were spoken… I got to go.
She had closed her eyes, her hands moving at their violation… Her fingers followed the same paths that his did the previous night… Friday night… the night of their arrival.
He said he had something special planned, and asked her to bring several blankets. She was surprised when he pulled up to a private beach, only meant for him. It was not her beach, and even though she claimed it that night… it still remained his… They had walked along the waves, his eyes darting and looking… looking for the perfect spot… someplace with a view. A view for them, but not for anyone else. She coaxed him to roll up his jeans and walk in the cool ocean waves with her. She played but did not splash… all those years had taught her his boundaries… and how tightly he was wound. She had reflected on that so many times before… him and his boundaries. She guessed she had her own, but not nearly as tight. She knew the attraction she felt was sexual and yet, there was more… She was attracted to him, and his essence. She was attracted to everything about him, even those parts she did not like or agree with. She loved him; all of him… not just parts. And yet, there were things about him… like his tightness… and his inability to just relax, enjoying the moment and not looking at the demented watch, which screamed out the words, got to go… got to go
She sometimes wandered… letting her mind just unwind and go adrift… how things would have been different if she had never been allowed to sample his nectar. Sample his ability to… to what… make her into a woman. That was silly… she was already a women. She had the parts and the ability. She was so much of a woman. But in the bedroom… on the bed… sometimes all she felt like was a piece of wood or meat, with a warm wet hole. Something he could stick himself into… and nothing more. Yes, he made her into a woman… a beautiful erotic woman, flesh and blood, earning for his erotic touch.
He had found a spot, and laid out the blankets. He sat down, urging her to do the same. He patted the space besides him and she found her legs weak, bending at his will. The first kiss was gentle, celebrating that he had found some precious time in his otherwise hectic schedule a weekend with her… Of course, it was not a weekend with just her… there never was. But a weekend that after just a few hours he would speak those few words… got to go.
Their kisses deepened as the intensity of the moment drew them closer. She looked up and saw his face shielding the dark beauty of the star lit sky. She had never seen so many bright lovely orbs in her life and wondered aimlessly if he had brought them out to delight her. The clothing shielding both of them melted and soon his naked form was touching hers. He took his time, caressing her stomach, her breasts and her face. He bent his head and kissed her where no other man had. His lips touched down, causing warmth to spread… a warm pool of lightness starting at his fingertips and then spreading. Warmth and light… the light from the stars and the full moon, as if they were enjoying the experience as much as she. She pulled his head to hers again, wanting to enjoy the warmth of his lips. Even as the kiss deepened it remained tender. His hands came to her face, caressing her cheekbones and playing with her thick brown hair. Their bodies started to melt with their heat, twisting into one… It was long and staggering… but wetness filled her and she felt complete. He rose high above her again, still part of her and moved his hips… a simple movement for delivery of more wetness… thick and full of life. Her body was on fire and the interior heat was growing bright. He laid back and pulled her close, both a little tired from their bonding. She enjoyed the view of the bridge watch cars come and go in the brightness of their lights. His head was facing her and the star laden sky. He took in a sharp breath and whispered… that he saw a shooting star. A shooting star… Her body had tightened thinking that he was going to say… going to say those several terrible little words… got to go…
This morning when she woke, she found him dressing… he did speak those words, but with a promise to return… She smiled, knowing that each moment he was gone she would ponder his absence… needing to be close to him and jealous of all those who had his attention instead of she…
Now she stood on the balcony, looking out… waiting and watching for his return... waiting in anticipation for another evening filled with surprise and yet dreading when he finally spoke those words... those simple words... and leaving her side again...
"Hon... I gotta go!"