As the night thickened around us, the rain lashing against the window sill, wind howling, there was no possibility of going for a walk that evening down to the pub. Staying at his parents’ for the night, back in his old room my head flooded with the memories of past encounters in the dark.
Out there, in the house by the sea, there are no street-lamps to filter in through the curtains. The stars are at their most impressive – the Milky Way is breath-taking – and of course, when the lights go out you have absolute blackness. An absence of light. Being back in that room where some of my first explorations into the delicious world of debauchery he that brought me; that we both explored for the first time together my head swam.
The Saturday film had ended and we were both snuggled under the duvet together in the single bed – Ah! another fond memory – I had already removed some clothing to ease things along. As he walked over to turn out the light, the rest of my clothes followed and my limbs called out to his body and wrapped themselves around his legs, welcoming him back to the warmth of the bed, and me.
I’m not quite certain why, or what causes it, but the lack of light seems to get me worked up very easily. Perhaps the knowledge that he can’t see my next move coming, or the delicious grin that paints my face as I find my mood is being rewarded by his body’s reaction is what makes this act of darkness so enjoyable.
Soon I am over him, my hair falling about, trailing over his chest, neck – it gets everywhere these days – as I kiss my way up to his lips, licking along his jaw to nip at his earlobe then back down to his shoulder, my teeth grazing lightly over his collar-bone. By this time I am astride him, my body pressing into his, my thighs gently pincering his own. With one hand I support myself on the bedframe, my arm close against his head, enclosing him, a claustrophobic air of certainty of no escape – he won’t be going anywhere fast. He’s mine.
We moved through the phrases to reach our end and the storm that raged outside had its mirrored passion reflected within this room.
Or so I hope to think.
It’s refreshing to relive the good memories.
