When I saw her today it was almost terrifying.
She looked as if she could tell what had been going on in my mind. She seemed supremely serene and powerful. The wisdom of the ceunturies tied up in a slender, auburn haired body. In front of her every shred of emotional armour I've ever had turns to glass.
I lay in bed last night trying to imagine what it would have been like to have her next to me. I could almost see her form wrapped up in the comforter, and in the darkness it was almost possible to her hair splayed out across the pillows.
I had almost decided to give up and go to slep when I heard a noise outside on the fire escape next to my window. I got up and went to see who could have been out there so late at night.
It's her.
She's standing on the fire escape wearing a thin, white kimono that's draped losely around her body. She's leaning over the rail watching the few cars pass slowly by. She hears my steps on the landing and looks over her shoulder, smiling at me.
I step behind her and wrap my arms around her.. I place my lips on her neck and listen to her breath for a few moments. "Come back to bed," I whisper.
"It's too hot to sleep."
"I wasn't thinking about sleep..."
"It's too hot for that inside. I want to stay out here." I look around and there is no one on the street. The flood lights from the parking lot next to the building bathe the fire escape in an eerie halo.
I drop my hands to her side and slowly sink to my knees.
"What are you doing? Oh. I see..." Her voice is languid and soft.
I've begun to lift the hem of the kimono and have started kissing her ankles and the backs of her knees. I search upwards for the sensitive nerve endings along her legs, and finding them I hear a purr escape from her throat.
The kimono is up over her hips and I'm staring at the amazing lines of her legs as they curve and turn in the most elegant shapes in the odd light. She stepa back and bends completely at a right angle over the railing. I reach under her thoighs and part them slightly more and slowly guide myself into...warmth...heat...the most incredible grip of liquid velvet...
There was a siren outside my window, and suddenly I was sitting bolt upright in my bed, sweat rolling over me in waves.
During idle hours in the day I seem to slip into them and become immersed. I took the bus home from work today, and as I reclined in my seat at the back I could feel the thoughts pull me in. It was raining hard, and as we pulled awa from the bus stop I closed my eyes...
I'm in the bus shelter sitting on a stone bench. It's an enclosed structure of glass tinted a soft amber. She's walking back and forth on the side facing the curb, just out of reach of the rain. It's late, and if it were clear we might be seeing the stars or the full moon. There are a few street lights in the road, but inside the shelter it's dark.
She turns to me, irritated. "The bus will never come."
"Not if you keep pacing like that. Buses only come when you don't want them to." She resumes her deliberate steps and I watch her outline against the lights. She's wearing a red dres and a black plastic rain coat. The light reflects off of the dress in flashes when she turns, a sort of electric red glow enshrouding her for an instant.
I stand up and step toward her with one thought in my head. She stops pacing and turns to me as my hands rise to her waist, and I pull her back into the darkness.
My lipos are on her throat, touching her lightly, wisoering to her warm skin. I trace a pattern across her neck, and pushing her raincoat back proceed to her collar bone, kissing the length of it. A slight shiver through her.
"Cold?" I whisper.
"No..."She pushes me back down onto the stone bench. I can only see her outline in the dark, but the motion is unmistakable. She has pushed the raincoat back over her shoulders and herhands have found the sides of her dress. The elbows extend out as she begins to pull upward, by inches showing more and more of her legs until the tops of her thighs are bare. She walks toward me slowly, and in a smooth motion steps up onto the bench placing a slender high heeled shoe on either side ofme. I place my lips on the exposed thigh to my right. She's raised her dress to her waist leaving nothing in my way as I begin to kiss my way to the center. She has one hand against the wall, while the other slips down and pulls me to her, into something I can't see, but know but instinct and am ravenously hungry for...
"Pardon me, but isn't this your stop?" Again my eys snapped open and I wearily rose from my seat and stepped down from the bus onto the street, and into the driving rain.
They've been creeping into my daytime hours, so much so that I can think of nothing else.
I know who they're about. Can she know? Can she tell just from looking at my expression just what I'm thinking?
Water. I turn on the shower and the water begins to warm up quickly. I step out of my clothes and into the tub as the steam rises to fill the room and fog the mirror. The hot water stings my back, but in moments I acclimate, and the heat begins to draw the day's tension out of me.
Behind me the curtain slides away. It's her. She's naked. She steps into the shower and slides past me, standing under the water, letting herself become immersed. I watch her slick form as the water cascades over her skin. She tilts her head back, letting the water pull her hair away from her face, eyes closed, mouth open as if she were about to speak.
She steps forward and opens her eyes. She hands me the soap and the washcloth and turns her back to me.
I begin with small strokes across her back and shoulders, almost timidly. Over the sound of the rushing water I hear her whisper "Harder..". I scrub harder, broadening my strokes, moving further and further down her body. To her feet, then back up. I step around her, sliding my body against hers and begin to wash her front, staying close as I work my way down. Her voice is almost hoarse. "I can do this part myself". "I know," I say and continue.
At her feet I stop scrubbing, and slide myself up along her soapy form until the length of our bodies is pressed together. She turns to face me as I reach up and detach the shower head from the hook and slowly begin to rinse. I press my lips to hers and bring the jets of water up her legs to her slightly parted thighs. She grips my shoulder and our kiss approaches the point of meltdown.
The jets have come to rest almost touching her as her body begins a series of long, drawn out tremors, clutching, pulling myself and the water closer. She tears the shower head from my hand, dropping it, and reaching above her head for the hook. She grips it with both hands and pulls her legs to my waist and around me, pulling me into her.
A hot knife through butter.
I hear a faint voice coming through the wall of my bedroom, over a rush of water. I open my eyes and blink, listening to my neighbor sing in the shower.
These dreams are killing me.
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