Monday, December 10, 2012

Winter thunderstorm

Dream-like -- "I must be asleep, of course, a thunderstorm in winter is impossible" -- thought flashes just as the cracking, immensely loud sound dazes me into a limbo state between wakefulness and dreaming. Disoriented, my senses are regained one by one, and I begin to smell. The smell in my room, the smell around my bed, you, your smell is what jolts me awake just as another thunderbolt hits nearby among high-rise buildings, echoing, rumbling and merging with the high winds from the sea. I am now fully awake in my cozy den of purple and lilac feathery heaven that is my bed, with you by my side. You!... Yes, you're still here. I turn my head, carefully slip my arm through your slim waist and suddenly your skin goes taut as the muscles wake beneath their sheath, the pattern of breathing changing, and your head turns to, what I imagine, look first at the window and then at me. You are now awake, or near awake, too. It's pitch dark. Although I can't see the details of your face, I know your eyes are on me. "Sounds like a storm, my love, how strange! In the middle of a winter, too..." I brave the icy January embrace of my bedroom air, getting out of the cozy purple heaven, pull the corner of the curtain to see sheets of water pouring down the panes and lightening flowering across the black skies, breathtakingly magnificent in all its raw, untamed fury. So it is a storm, a winter thunderstorm, alright. Nothing is impossible. I return to my -- now our -- bed, already badly shivering, hug you from behind and shamelessly put my feet in between your legs to warm them. You giggle and gasp at the iciness I bring back, and my lips begin the nightly worship of you, your shoulders, your jawline and finally your mouth, while my hands do their own worship of every inch of skin on you. I can no longer pull away from that fountain of life that is you, can never pull away... Your breathing thickens and soon rasps underneath my lips, our sounds drowned in the furious elements unfolding outside. In love, so in love, nothing else matters, nothing. Only now, only you, only this winter thunderstorm.

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