(C) Susan Mason
She sat tentatively
on the edge of the sofa, ready to spring to her feet at the sound of the
Her heart was pounding like a bass drum. Her right foot provided
and before long she was clucking her tongue. She was a one-woman
As she lost herself
to the beat of anticipation, her mind began to wander. It had been
since she’d seen
him...since she’d touched his face, or felt her hand swallowed in his strong,
She closed her eyes, trying to recapture the feel of his lips on hers...the
his skin and
the memory of his chest where she lay her head after they made love.
almost feel his
left arm crook around her neck and shoulders, and she shuddered as she
sensation of his fingers tracing a path up and down her arm with his other
would lay extremely still, so not to miss a single beat of his heart.
After the loving,
when the air was heavy with spent passion, he would speak to her, stroking
her with words
and his fingertips. Their conversation flowed in soft, even tones.
He spoke of
things, she spoke
of feelings: fear, pain, disappointment...and hope. The irony
was in the way
he listened to
and seemed to understand her feelings. Especially the fears.
But he rarely
It was the way he listened though, that gave her hope. Hope that
he might speak
his heart openly, without feigned indifference or bravado.
Lost in the memory
of time spent pressed against his flesh, and longing for his heart to
envelop the rest
of her, she didn’t hear the sharp, shrill sound of the door-buzzer.
Propelled to her feet, she spoke into the intercom: “Come in.....please.”
The words came
out in an uncharacteristically small voice. She pressed the button,
for the click
of the door lock, then for the sound of his footsteps in the tiled hallway.
the door, she waited for him to reach her door. He did not knock,
but she felt
on the other side. Slowly, she opened the door.
There he stood,
left arm raised and leaning against the doorjamb. His left leg was
his foot. He wore a crisp, white v-necked tee shirt tucked into his
snug black jeans.
A lock of his dark, wavy hair hung over one eye, accentuating their deep,
color. Always full of fire, his eyes seemed to burn even more brightly
drank her in.
She returned his gaze, her grey-green eyes luminous at the sight of him.
she moistened her lips.
The corners of
his sweet, moist mouth curled ever so slightly as he surveyed her countenance.
Her hair was
brilliant with shine as it framed her full, round face. She wasn’t
ugly--not a “10,”
not a 2! She wore a white v-necked tee shirt with the words “All
of me, why not
take ALL of me?”
emblazoned across her chest. The tee shirt was tight. Very
tight. His eyes
her body, resting on the shiny spandex leggings which left no curve or
Every line of her abundant figure was clearly visible. She was just
Images of her had filled his thoughts since they’d last been together.
in her presence. When her perfume reached his nostrils, he closed
his eyes and
shook his head.
She could swear he was purring.
They stood like
that, in the doorway for what seemed like an eternity. Her knees
and seeing him
again took her breath away. When she closed her eyes for a moment
effort to catch
her breath,) he leaned into her and began to devour her mouth with his.
kisses were deep
and hungry. She felt herself succumbing to a passion she’d only imagined
before this moment.
Her knees began to buckle. Sensing her faltering posture, he moved
closer and pressed
against her soft body, slipping his knee between hers. One of his
cupped her face
as their kissing grew more fevered. With his other hand, he reached
him and pushed