Monday, April 22, 2024

The Pond (2013)

 


You stand at the side of the pond like a swan, your shape reflected in the cool evening water.

And I ache all over.

The fire in me is as hot as the pond water cool.

It is something about you, some mysterious suggestion in the way you stand, your shape silhouetted against the slowly seeking evening statuesque.

Perhaps it is this place, filled with the soft colors of stirring reeds, each swaying inside of me, in the slow rhythm of entwined limbs – my limbs with yours, my pain easing slowly inside of you like a stiff wind erupting.

You don’t know me. I don’t know you except for seeing you here, but I crave for a glance – some sign that you see me standing erect here, some clue that you recognize the rising fire you inspire.

Yet if you look, I do not see it, and this only makes me ache more.

I am a man full of dark and secret passions, a mounting tempest of the unreleased, I need to release in you, but do not know how.

Or how to make you take notice as you stroll, goddess like among the egrets and sea gulls that fill this glad, leaving me to make a study of your breasts and thighs, my mouth watering for a taste of you.

Although we seem alone here, I know we are not, as others – many in pairs – stroll along the path, lovers with a promise of love making ahead of them, glowing in the dim sun the way I see you glow.

I refuse to give up, strolling behind you as you move slowly along the pond side.

I need to be near you, need for you to acknowledge me, to touch me, to entwine our limps like the reeds.

I would settle for a kiss, though I know this would never be enough, a taste of wine that would make the ache in me worse not better, inspiring the desire to make love to you again and again and again, and still not have the passion spent.

But a kiss would let me breathe some of myself into you and you into me, our tongues teasing each other as to what other parts we might play inside each other.

My mind is so caught up in this, I don’t see until almost too late the glance you give me.

Not at me directly, but rather, my reflection in the water, your soft lips parting in what might be a smile, daring me to take the next step.

I move towards you, every part of me brimming with fire nothing short of all of you will quench.

I follow behind you, a needy hound, panting over your scene, desperate to lay you down and spread you open so I might plunge right in.

Perhaps you even let me catch up, lingering a little nearer the exposed roots at the pond side so that I come up behind you so that for a moment our reflections overlap and seem to embrace.

I ask for a kiss.

You laugh and ask, “Is that all you want?”

“Am I so easy to read?” I ask.

You simply smile.

Sunset glistens on the water giving our reflections an amber glow, my shape easing closer to your shape, my mouth settling onto yours, hesitating for a moment, a jolt of lust leaping through me like lightning, my ache so intense I am shocked no arc of it comes off of me and into you, even when our lips touch.

This is no violent act, though it takes all of my will to keep my tongue from plunging deep into you the way I ache to do elsewhere.

Still my fingers steal up as my palm curls around your breasts, tendering cupping it.

Are my hands cold?

Is that why you tremble?

Is this the reason your nipples grow so stiff beneath my touch.

But it is not enough, and soon, my fingers ease open the button on your blouse, feeling my way into the darkness in search of flesh, each layer pealing away like the skin of an onion’s until at last my fingers feel the tip. My fingers circle it slowly.

This is still not enough, and my mouth leaves your mouth and moves to where my fingers have been, my lips circling the stiffened tip, my tongue slowly circling it before I softly suck.

Footsteps sound on the path approaching us.

A couple appears out of the trees followed by a dog.

We part for the moment, although your blouse remains open. The couple passes.

You move on along the shore to a more secluded spot where a small lawn his hidden by the trees, and I follow like an overheated pup.

I reach you, press myself against your back, letting you feel all of me as I feel all of you, with me hoping the same pain that grows intense between my legs grows between yours as well.

You make no move.

You just wait.

I turn you around; kiss you, this time more passionately, allowing my tongue to press into you.

“Lay down,” I say.

“On the ground?” you ask.

I take off my coat and lay it over the grass. You lie down.

My fingers tremble as I lift your skirt,

Sunset is heavy over the pond so I feel your moisture rather than see it as I ease off the last layer and you lay open before me, an invitation so grand I can hardly breathe.

My hands move up your thighs until my fingers find the folds of flesh. I want to touch you, make it last, first with my fingers then my tongue, but I ache too much to taste you, and move my mouth up to where my fingers were, and slowly work around you with the tip, pealing you away until I reach the tenderest part.

I ache so much and feel my own need pressing against my zipper, but I won’t give in, your taste flowing into me creating a whole different fire.

I let the tip of my tongue circle the spot where your heat grows, easy, slow, nothing too abrupt, forcing tenderness when I am about explode, then letting my tongue plunge into the dark cavity so I might taste the depths of you.

The wind blows leaves onto my back.

Somewhere in the harbor, a ship moans as it passes under the bridge seeking safe harbor in the port across the bay.

I moan, too, feeling like a ship that has been adrift as sea my whole life, my tongue the life line into you, while I ache to deposit my cargo into your old.

I feel you shiver.

The sun blinks out.

Cold comes. I pull away.

Our reflections have faded from the water.

You say it is time for you to go.

I ask if I will see you again

You say, “You’d better. You have to finish what you started.”


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