It remains dark in the house.
Broken glass hastily kicked aside at the base of a back window reflects the glow of the full moon outside the house, shimmering and gleaming. Dirt is scattered around a potted plant that had been knocked over in the living room.
In the large chef’s kitchen, opened containers of leftovers and bags of chips and cookies are strewn about the counter and breakfast table. An empty bottle of milk and half-finished cans of soda rest in the sink.
Upstairs, the last drops of water pull away and fall from the shower head onto the tub, the gentle “plink, plink, plink” sound finally ebbing to a stop. The drain gurgles quietly, the last evidence of days’ worth of grime and odour seeping away through the pipes. The fragrant smell of soap and shampoo, gels and powders waft through the spacious washroom only masking the odors of weariness and stress. On the pristine marble floor plush, wet towels rest incongruously beside a pile of gritty, worn clothes.
From the bedroom, soft sighs and the rustling of linen whisper through the darkened hallway. Within, lit by only the shine of the moon beyond the wide windows, two shadowy figures twist and turn in a seductive embrace. It’s a hushed moment of intimacy unfolding with tender kisses and gentler touches the belie their rough hands and blistered feet.
Despite the strain of urgency that chases them, whips them ever forward every day, every hour, they keep their youthful verve and fire in check, determined to make love as “adults”. Quivering, aching sighs of longings finally released replace forceful pronouncements of lust or desire. No overdone expressions of satisfaction or bravado tonight, just an experience genuine and pure. Their motions are sensuous, controlled and mature.
His hands are more assured than any other time for as long as he can remember as he slides them along her smooth curves and long lines, confidently, securely. He slides them upon her round breasts, brushing his palm along the tips of her taut nipples so softly she giggles. He massages her round bottom, her creamy, mocha skin peeks out between the pale, white hues of his fingers, accentuating the intimacy of their touch upon her body.
As they circle their heads slowly, pressing their lips together endlessly, she can’t stop running her fingers through his wavy blonde strands, relishing how soft his clean hair feels. She breathes deep, sucking in the smell of his body and the fragrance of soap. Her reinvigorated senses ignite her heart, setting it off at a rapid beat, and she could think of no other place to be, no other time to exist in, than here at this moment with him.
They roll their bodies in unison, pressing flesh together as if the more they are touching, the less chance they can be separated. Her breasts spread against his chest. Her belly slides against his thin, firm tummy. Their hips sway and curl seductively as he glides his virile length in and out of her with deliberately long, slow, strokes. They both can feel the heat and pulse of their bodies and within and it’s nothing they could have imagined.
Her plush lips are at his ear, panting quiet breaths of pleasure, guidance, and encouragement. “You’re doing so well,” says each sharp sigh she lets slip, “So well… “
The moonlight dances upon their bodies. Blankets cast aside, they make love exposed for only the silent night sky to witness. The white brilliance of the moon almost flares upon their flesh each time they move from one sultry position to another, hitting one peak of sensation after another. It spotlights a moment of perfection and it burns the memory into their young minds that they know they will never forget.
He feels her tighten her embrace upon him, her legs, her arms, her lips, everything. Even so, she’s so soft, her body so welcoming. He pushes smoothly through her supple thighs as if her skin were silk. He draws his mouth and tongue around her neck and shoulders, tasting her ebony flesh, thinking there will be never anything else so delicious.
