The air hung thick and heavy on that July night, a humid veil clinging to our skin, promising the next day would be just as breathless. Above us, vibrant lights, strung between the branches of the ancient oak trees, illuminated the sweaty faces of the dancing crowd. The air vibrated with the pulse of music, a primal beat that resonated through the very ground, a bassline that wormed its way into your chest.
Laughter erupted more readily. We were all caught in the electric current of the night, limbs loose, spirits soaring. Then came the first *****, a chilled glass of something fruity very sweet, and bubbly too that slid down easily. Then the second and the third, each one loosening inhibitions. My arm was slung around her waist, her head occasionally resting on my shoulder, eyes bright with an uncontainable joy.
She was half Thai. A striking and unique beauty, with an athletic build, magnetic cat-like eyes, shiny raven-black hair, high cheekbones, and numerous freckles. Soon, we had had enough drinks. It was time. "Let's go home, I feel like it," she said, her voice a little husky and wonderfully slurred. She reached for my hand, her fingers cool against my damp palm, and we started to weave our way through the throng.
The night air outside the party's radius felt suddenly cooler. We ran the last few *****, exhilarated, in the garden path. The silhouette of the old cherry tree emerged from the shadows. Our mouths met. A slow, deep kiss that seemed to stretch time itself. Finally, reluctantly, we broke apart, and I took the keys, trying to focus on the house lock. She, however, had stayed under the tree, her gaze fixed upward.
"I love these cherries, their sparkle, I like to bite them. Red, beautiful, like your lips…" she said chuckling. I paused, keys halfway into the lock, glancing back at the cherry tree shimmering above her. "Come inside!" I yelled up, a smile tugging at my lips. The door slammed shut like the frantic beat of our hearts. Shoes were kicked off. Her hand found the hem of my shirt, and with a swift tug, it was gone.
Cool air brushed against my bare skin. "Weird that you don't have a bra…" she said with an amused voice, while tracing the curve of my breast with her fingers. My pants followed, then hers. She squeezed my breasts and then licked them, making circles around the nipple before biting it. I rolled my eyes and then closed them. I felt shivers run down my spine. I breathed hard, she did too, in a symphony of emotions.
She pushed me against the wall, then placed a hand on my ribs, grabbed me from behind, and suddenly turned me around, leaving me facing the wall. Bending down, she said, "I love your ass," before biting me. Afterward, she paused on purpose. She went to the kitchen to ***** a glass of water. I was out of breath for a moment. She left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. Moving away from the wall, I went to the kitchen as well.
Now it was my turn, my sweet revenge. "Hey, pretty eyes, why did you leave?" I smiled ironically. I took the glass from her hands, and this time I'm the one to push her toward the fridge, which wobbled on impact, but I didn't care. I didn't wait to reach the "fruit of desire." I concentrated on her clit, first slowly and then faster and faster. She began breathing harder and harder while her legs shook. She leaned against me.
She started screaming. I stopped for a second… "I love you, damn!" she whispered. I began again more decisively, and she was shaking again, so I paused once more. I repeated it two more times until she begged me not to stop anymore. She was completely, irrevocably mine. Of course, I paused again until I finally left her collapsed against me. With closed eyes, breathing hard, she climaxed. But the night was far from over.
Now it was her turn. This time, we were in the living room, on the sofa. She lifted me with surprising ease and laid me down. Her eyes dark and intense, her mouth traced a slow path across my skin. Kisses landed everywhere, each one a spark igniting another flame. Her hands squeezed my hips, pulling me closer, pressing me into the cushions. Then, her mouth, her tongue between my legs, penetrating my secret lips.
She was on top of me while her hand delicately searched for the spot that would drive me wild. She found it, and I went crazy. I exclaimed, "Ahh… darling!" my voice screamed in pleasure. I trembled and writhed. She didn't slow down; she didn't stop, and I grabbed her neck, pulling her closer to me, moaning. I opened my legs wider and wider, arching my back, trembling, and with a cry of ecstasy, I reached climax.
I watched her, my fingers tangling in her hair. Nothing will ever compare to that moment. The gentle rhythm of her breaths is etched in my memory. Her feline eyes closed, her face serene, utterly devoted to me. But suddenly, she looked up, her eyes locking with mine. She pulled away, then leaned closer, kissing me softly, her mouth tasting of me, a heady and ********ting flavor that lingered on my tongue.
We lay down next to each other and lit a cigarette. It was our night, and we were happy. No one could ruin it. We hugged each other. We loved each other to death because we were one. She was so beautiful, inside and out. She was my woman, and no one could take her away from me. We looked at each other, smiling. I felt like I were living a ***** that would never end, and to this day I wish it hadn't ended.
A year had ****** since that moment. In the garden, I now sat alone beneath the sprawling cherry tree. This spot had been our sanctuary, but also the place where our story had fractured, leaving jagged edges and unspoken words. A year had ******, a year filled with a silence so deafening it had echoed in every corner of my life. Finally, I mustered the courage. When you love someone there is no room for fear.
"Just thinking of you. Hope you're good." A simple, almost banal text. I'd agonized over it for hours, rewriting it countless times, trying to strike the impossible balance between casual and genuine. The cherry tree stood sentinel. I just needed her reply. Doubts began to creep into my mind. Just as I was about to convince myself that this was a bad idea, and she probably wouldn't even reply, my phone buzzed…
My heart skipped a beat. I took a deep breath and unlocked the screen. "I'm good. Miss you. We should talk." Relief washed over me, so potent it almost knocked me off balance. "Miss you." Those two words, so simple, so profound, were enough to banish a year of silence. They were a lifeline, a bridge across the chasm that had grown between us. I took a deep breath, so I typed back, "Me too. How about tomorrow?"
Laughter erupted more readily. We were all caught in the electric current of the night, limbs loose, spirits soaring. Then came the first *****, a chilled glass of something fruity very sweet, and bubbly too that slid down easily. Then the second and the third, each one loosening inhibitions. My arm was slung around her waist, her head occasionally resting on my shoulder, eyes bright with an uncontainable joy.
She was half Thai. A striking and unique beauty, with an athletic build, magnetic cat-like eyes, shiny raven-black hair, high cheekbones, and numerous freckles. Soon, we had had enough drinks. It was time. "Let's go home, I feel like it," she said, her voice a little husky and wonderfully slurred. She reached for my hand, her fingers cool against my damp palm, and we started to weave our way through the throng.
The night air outside the party's radius felt suddenly cooler. We ran the last few *****, exhilarated, in the garden path. The silhouette of the old cherry tree emerged from the shadows. Our mouths met. A slow, deep kiss that seemed to stretch time itself. Finally, reluctantly, we broke apart, and I took the keys, trying to focus on the house lock. She, however, had stayed under the tree, her gaze fixed upward.
"I love these cherries, their sparkle, I like to bite them. Red, beautiful, like your lips…" she said chuckling. I paused, keys halfway into the lock, glancing back at the cherry tree shimmering above her. "Come inside!" I yelled up, a smile tugging at my lips. The door slammed shut like the frantic beat of our hearts. Shoes were kicked off. Her hand found the hem of my shirt, and with a swift tug, it was gone.
Cool air brushed against my bare skin. "Weird that you don't have a bra…" she said with an amused voice, while tracing the curve of my breast with her fingers. My pants followed, then hers. She squeezed my breasts and then licked them, making circles around the nipple before biting it. I rolled my eyes and then closed them. I felt shivers run down my spine. I breathed hard, she did too, in a symphony of emotions.
She pushed me against the wall, then placed a hand on my ribs, grabbed me from behind, and suddenly turned me around, leaving me facing the wall. Bending down, she said, "I love your ass," before biting me. Afterward, she paused on purpose. She went to the kitchen to ***** a glass of water. I was out of breath for a moment. She left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. Moving away from the wall, I went to the kitchen as well.
Now it was my turn, my sweet revenge. "Hey, pretty eyes, why did you leave?" I smiled ironically. I took the glass from her hands, and this time I'm the one to push her toward the fridge, which wobbled on impact, but I didn't care. I didn't wait to reach the "fruit of desire." I concentrated on her clit, first slowly and then faster and faster. She began breathing harder and harder while her legs shook. She leaned against me.
She started screaming. I stopped for a second… "I love you, damn!" she whispered. I began again more decisively, and she was shaking again, so I paused once more. I repeated it two more times until she begged me not to stop anymore. She was completely, irrevocably mine. Of course, I paused again until I finally left her collapsed against me. With closed eyes, breathing hard, she climaxed. But the night was far from over.
Now it was her turn. This time, we were in the living room, on the sofa. She lifted me with surprising ease and laid me down. Her eyes dark and intense, her mouth traced a slow path across my skin. Kisses landed everywhere, each one a spark igniting another flame. Her hands squeezed my hips, pulling me closer, pressing me into the cushions. Then, her mouth, her tongue between my legs, penetrating my secret lips.
She was on top of me while her hand delicately searched for the spot that would drive me wild. She found it, and I went crazy. I exclaimed, "Ahh… darling!" my voice screamed in pleasure. I trembled and writhed. She didn't slow down; she didn't stop, and I grabbed her neck, pulling her closer to me, moaning. I opened my legs wider and wider, arching my back, trembling, and with a cry of ecstasy, I reached climax.
I watched her, my fingers tangling in her hair. Nothing will ever compare to that moment. The gentle rhythm of her breaths is etched in my memory. Her feline eyes closed, her face serene, utterly devoted to me. But suddenly, she looked up, her eyes locking with mine. She pulled away, then leaned closer, kissing me softly, her mouth tasting of me, a heady and ********ting flavor that lingered on my tongue.
We lay down next to each other and lit a cigarette. It was our night, and we were happy. No one could ruin it. We hugged each other. We loved each other to death because we were one. She was so beautiful, inside and out. She was my woman, and no one could take her away from me. We looked at each other, smiling. I felt like I were living a ***** that would never end, and to this day I wish it hadn't ended.
A year had ****** since that moment. In the garden, I now sat alone beneath the sprawling cherry tree. This spot had been our sanctuary, but also the place where our story had fractured, leaving jagged edges and unspoken words. A year had ******, a year filled with a silence so deafening it had echoed in every corner of my life. Finally, I mustered the courage. When you love someone there is no room for fear.
"Just thinking of you. Hope you're good." A simple, almost banal text. I'd agonized over it for hours, rewriting it countless times, trying to strike the impossible balance between casual and genuine. The cherry tree stood sentinel. I just needed her reply. Doubts began to creep into my mind. Just as I was about to convince myself that this was a bad idea, and she probably wouldn't even reply, my phone buzzed…
My heart skipped a beat. I took a deep breath and unlocked the screen. "I'm good. Miss you. We should talk." Relief washed over me, so potent it almost knocked me off balance. "Miss you." Those two words, so simple, so profound, were enough to banish a year of silence. They were a lifeline, a bridge across the chasm that had grown between us. I took a deep breath, so I typed back, "Me too. How about tomorrow?"
