Part Four: Amalfi passion
I wanted you there in the sand, there, standing against the rocks, I wanted only the pure satisfaction of release, but sand and rocks are no fit bed for lovers.
“I’ve rented a villa, it is not far from here, just up the set of stairs, there at the end of the beach.” I meant it as a question but we began moving toward the steps before the thought was finished.
We walked leaning against each other, drunk with lust, giddy with anticipation. The salt air and the dew sparkled like a cast of stars in your hair. My hand slid down your back and over the lithe swell of your ass. I felt your muscles stretch and contract with each step.
The villa was close by, just off the side of a small courtyard framed with lemon trees and jasmine growing in pots. Inside I reached for the light but you stopped my hand. I smiled in the dark, understanding without words.
“Upstairs, you’ll see. Only a bedroom and the bath,” I explained. “I’ll get a bottle of wine.”
Bottle in hand I paused at the door, watching you look through the collection of objects I’d picked up on the trip so far. Bits of rock, glass worn smooth by the sea, crystal shards, ancient pottery, odd things that caught my eye. You turned and caught me watching. You smiled, and I feel like you knew much more about me than the little collection could possibly reveal.
I poured us each a glass and opened the doors onto the small verandah. We stood together and drank. Your eyes were bright with a clear and wild anticipation. I was filled with an eagerness to begin and a longing to make this moment last. To never leave this now that held us.
I set my glass on the bureau and stepped close. With my eyes on yours, I loosed the buttons on your dress one by one. As you turned to set your glass beside mine the dress slipped from one shoulder. With a finger, I slid the fabric aside to free your other shoulder. The dress fell to the floor in a silken shimmer and you stepped free. The moonlight silvered half your face while the other half remained in shadow so you were draped in silver and shadow like a queen of the night, the moon brilliant in your eyes. When I kissed you I tasted the sweetness of the wine and a tang of salt. I felt the warmth of your tongue and the urgent whisper of your breath mingling with mine.
You stepped back from me and, hand on hip, raised an eyebrow. I watched your eyes as I unbuttoned my shirt and pants, letting them fall, feeling the sheer unbridled lust in your eyes like a caress. But I remembered the errand and smiled at the question in your eyes as I put my pants back on and shrugged into my shirt again.
“Don’t go anywhere,” you said with a smile, “I have something I have to do. It won’t take long, and then we’ll have the rest of the night.”
I heard the creak of the loose step as you walked down the stairs, and then the sound of the door opening and closing… I wondered where and why now, but know that it must be important for you to leave me.
As I looked around the room I thought about you out in the night, wondering at the parts that made up you, your creativity, your love of solitude, sensuality, and your adventurous spirit and what those parts brought to me.
I became aware that I recognized the music playing from a bar down the street…a soft, sensual gypsy melody, a song for the season and the night, some ancient song I knew without being aware of when or where I had heard it, only that it stirred my blood and I felt the vibrations echoing in my soul. Some echo of other times carried by the sea breeze through the open door. Shifting the lace of memory just as it made the curtains sway. Patterns of light and shadow that I could read if I remembered how.
I smiled at my flight of fancy and turned away to look through our hideaway, and came upon the treasure that was in the bathroom. Oh, the little villa had a surprise for me, a sunken bathtub, almost an excess for such a house but so inviting. I drew a warm bath, adding the aromatic herbs I found on the edge; it was time to wash away the sweat of the dancing, the sand that clung to my legs , indulging myself in the sheer pleasure of the warmth surrounding me. First a shower to cleanse, then the tub to relax and prepare myself for you.
The perfume of the jasmine and the lemon blossom drifted in through the windows accompanied by the moonlight, and I closed my eyes, letting scent and light drift over me and lay my head back against the edge, waiting for your return.
Suddenly, there was a new note to the night’s scents and I was aware of movement on the surface of the water. I opened my eyes and you were there, dropping petals into the water, the heat releasing the perfume, heady and strong.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” you said.
I was intrigued, but not so much that it deflected my attention as you slowly removed your clothes, revealing yourself to me, stirring my memories, your intentions clear. I shifted forward as you stepped in behind me, settling down into the water with a sigh before pulling me back against you, wrapping your arms around me, enfolding me, the warmth of the water lulling us into a state where we just were, out of time, away from the world. Your hand drifted on the surface of the water, making lazy ripples that crested like waves against my breasts…
I lie beside your hips and watch the play of light reflected from your eyes. I follow the line of paler skin along the curve of your belly with a finger and see the shine brighten in your eyes. You turn slightly toward me, your body calling to me like the sea rising up to meet the moon in the long wave of the tides. And it is as if my fingers call to you, as if I can feel the surge of blood and heat below the skin that rises to my touch. I see the shine of the fine, soft hairs, invisible except where they catch the light, and I let my hand skim over them like the wind covers the grasses, golden in the sun. And while I could spend a night and more with the softest touches and each small wonder that is you, I want more. I kiss the tan line round your waist to where it comes to a slim line over your hip and then as you open your legs my mouth brushes against the coarser hairs and my tongue parts the lips of your sex and slides in the sudden slickness that flows from you. I rise up so that you can see the shine of your wetness on my face and whisper to tell you where my tongue will be, what my lips will do, how my fingers will move and then slowly ease back so I hold your hips in my hands and…
…so small your movements, so tantalizing, promising… but I am so glad you are able to slow for a little while… for while I want — need — the culmination and the feeling of your filling me with your heat, I do not want this to end; even though I know we will begin again. Your lips on mine, tasting, savoring, your tongue teasing me, your smile playing against my mouth while your fingers play over my body, awakening and then gentling in turn… arousing me further and then stilling me… oh my lover, you play me like a violin, bringing me to tears of joy.
I thirst, and you reach across and bring the wine to my lips, letting me sip and then placing it back on the table. You taste it on my mouth, licking and gently biting lips and chin, and trail down my neck until at last I feel you again at my breasts, sucking my nipples into your mouth one by one, rolling them around, nipping, pinching, drawing moans of delight from me, urging you on.
I reach down again, and touch you at the core of where we join, my fingers wrapping around you, feeling your strength as you quicken your pace and reach around me, wrapping my leg higher around your waist, and with your hands on my cheeks begin to set the rhythm of the dance and lead me until all I can hear is the music of our bodies superimposed upon the strains of the gypsy refrains… as they increase in tempo and wildness, and I cannot comprehend that we could be anywhere but here, in the moment, lost in each other.
And then you suddenly move, rolling me until I can see you above me, looking down on me… feasting on me with your eyes and smiling to me, knowing where you have brought me… slowly and deliberately taking my knees and drawing them far apart so you can see, see where you enter me… watch yourself moving in me and then just as slowly, your eyes never leaving mine, wrap them around you and I know that now it begins, the ending…
Seeing, smelling, taste, hearing, have all come together. I see you open to me and around me, see your eyes bright and soft and rapturous.
I hear the sigh of our breath released and the gasp of breaths taken, hear the creak of the bed and the restless rustle of the night wind caught up in the music of the world.
I taste you on my lips and breathe in the scent of love and lust.
Our eyes are an open link between us, through which sensation and feeling flow, so that I am unsure where I end and you begin.
Your legs are around me now and I have brought them there but the suggestion, the will to move is more than my hands, it is as though our minds have merged and hands and legs and fingers move from us, no longer parts of me or you. Together we are a greater whole. Your heels catch the cheeks of my ass and bring me in deeper. I lean forward now, eyes above your face, my hands beside your shoulders, and the rhythm increases like the beat of a drum calling us.
I feel a long shudder run through your body as my hips slide against yours, as my cock glides through you, reaching and reaching again. Your arms wrap around my shoulders and bring me close, tight against your chest, and your mouth, hot and almost feverish, finds mine. We are holding on to one another now as if we are small and fragile craft riding waves in a storm. I feel the muscles of your belly contract and your hands and legs dig into me and in a last and desperate leap I find you and reach a place of complete release. A release so complete I forget for a moment where I am, who I am, just that I have found you.
Part of me wants you to take me at my word and lead us back into the world of sensual delights, but I want to see you in the sunshine and watch the wind ruffle your hair. I want to sit with you in public and share the secret smiles and small touches that in themselves are light and glancing but speak of the night and desire and so much more. I am struck with a need for us to come out of the night and walk together in the brightness and promise of the day and all it might hold. I want to sit in a café and drink coffee and feel your foot run along my leg under the table. I want to walk through the markets choosing fruit and tasting strong cheeses and sharing a loaf of crusty bread as we walk. In the afternoon I want to share a bottle of fresh, young wine, pale green in the glass with a sparkle of bubbles.
I watch you pick out your clothes, watch you stand and turn in the warm yellow light streaming through the open window, watch you put a drop of perfume between your breasts and smile at me. I could be here a lifetime watching you. You end up wearing a sundress that flows off your shoulders and spins out as you dance across the room. And then together we walk out into the day and I think of the little car with the top down waiting for us just down the road. I smile, and you ask me what I’m thinking of.
‘That I had no idea when I hired it that it would so suit the day and you,” I say. “I thought I was giving in to a whim, not to fate.”
You watch me as I dress, drinking in every movement as I take my time choosing carefully what I will wear, slowly for your pleasure… yellow lace for the sunshine of the day and a sea blue and sunshine yellow sundress that I brought only yesterday as I strolled through the town… it seemed so right, to suit the setting and the warmth, and it floats about my legs soft and sensual. Strappy sandals, a drop of perfume between my breasts and I am ready to go, down the stairs out into the world again with you, the world that seemed so far away only a few short hours ago.
You are so handsome in the morning, your tan glowing and dressed so casually. Perhaps we can convince the owner of the little restaurant next door to pack a picnic basket for us, and we can pick it up after we have walked along the beach again and talked to the fishermen that are bringing in their morning catch, silver scales flashing in the sun, and they smile and talk to us and we reply with universal hand language and laugh at their good humour so early in the morning.
You have not told me where we are going, but when I see the little car with the top down I am thrilled… it is so perfect for the day. We have time to find a little village market for a while before we stop somewhere for lunch, perhaps up on a cliff top where we can look out over the sea.
The beach is walked and our legs are flecked with salt and sand, the picnic lunch stowed in the tiny back seat. So, come now, let us drive the winding roads that follow the curve of the sea, skirting cliff edge and rising and falling, running for a time through a valley but always returning to face the dark sparkling blue of the sea. We are carefree and the wind and the speed gives us a sense of adventure and possibility.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“We’ll know when we see it,” you reply.
The day stretches before us like jewels strung on the open road:
The cafe in the old town square dominated by the towering church, expresso and pastry, your hand in mine, your bare foot stroking my leg and my smile so wide it hurts.
Lunch on the hillside on the pine soft turf. The air sweet with resin and alive with the humming of bees and the song of crickets echos along the steep cliff at our feet. The bread is crusty, olives salty, cheese strong, and a sausage pungent with herbs. We wash it down with young wine and nibble grapes and see who can spit the seeds the farthest. I lie with my head in your lap and am afraid to close my eyes in case I should suddenly wake and find it is all a dream. I see the sun in your eyes and the sweet swell of your breasts, smell the perfume you dabbed on this morning escaping with the heat of your body, see the beat of your heart pulse the vein in your neck and feel the press of your belly as you breathe in and out.
The market where we wander and fill bags with blood oranges and figs and it all looks so good and we laugh at how much we will have to eat and still can’t resist the bakery.
We doze for a while on our blanket on the cliff top, the calls of the seabirds lulling us to sleep, entwined, leg against leg and your arm wrapped possessively around my waist, so warm in the sun, full to the brim with the abundance of simple fare and wine. You wake me gently, your lips on my mouth softly, whispering to me, “Come my love, it’s time to go home,” and I wake to the sight of the sun’s rays beginning to dip on the horizon, making the sea sparkle its last for the day.
We pack up the detritus of our picnic together and once again drive away down through the hills and into the village, the bustle of the night just beginning as we come to our little house, which is bathed in the last rays of the sun as if to welcome us home again.
The sun rides the crests of the hills when we turn and ride for home, and I think it is home because we go there together. Yesterday, it was only a room. As we drive, my hand slides up your thigh and you reach down and cover my hand in yours.
We climb the stairs, wrapped in each other, back into our haven of warmth and comfort. I set our table on the terrace; we have so much left, crusty bread and cheese, and the delectable figs and oranges that we bought in the market , and the delectably indulgent pastries that we couldn’t resist; and you quickly run back down to the restaurant and return with a bottle of wine to complete our meal.
Sitting together, watching the people begin to emerge from their houses and hotels to take up the night, it is sad to think it is our last for some time… because you will leave me soon, and though it is hard to bear, I want our last night to be one you will take with you, and that will bring you back to me. So take me to bed my sweetheart, love me long all through the night… the morning will come soon enough.
I am filled with longing. Wanting the moment to be forever. To be held in the last dark golden light as if in an amber resin. There is a voice inside that says, “Let us stay there at the end of a perfect day hand in hand, you carrying your strappy sandals in your other hand, me with the last bottle of wine, tired like children after a day at the beach and yet filled with the tension and energy that leaving brings, each wanting every move, every word to be charged with meaning, each wanting to give and take all we can, to hold onto this moment, this night.”
You see me beginning to speak and smile, and softly, almost sadly, put your finger on my lips to keep the words from spilling out.
We walk through the door and you kick off your sandals, and slip the straps of your dress from your shoulders. Your dress of sunshine and sky, the colors you love and that define you as open and free as all the great spread of sky above us. You stand there before me and my breath catches in my throat and I feel a tremendous rush of emotion for this beautiful woman before me, for you. You smile and take my hand and bring it your hip and hold my eyes with yours as I slide your panties off your hips and let them fall to join your dress.
You raise your hands to my chest and hold me at arm’s length while I pull my shirt off over my head and lose my pants and stand before you. You in turn slide my boxers down over my ass until we are naked in the light breeze which follows the last red rays of the sun into the room, and it is as if we are drinking each other in, memorizing each detail, each curve and bone and line, and there are no words for what I feel except it is like a spring of pure fresh water that rises up to fill a well, crystal, sparkling and in a still moment reflecting all the world above it.
I reach for you and bring you close, the ripples of our meeting flow through me and into you and I feel the reverberation of emotion shared, of my body touching yours. And I know it will be a loving that will stay with me forever, across space and time, a loving I have waited forever, it seems, to find.
Catch up with the story here:
https://myerotica.com/a-string-of-pearls-amalfi-9c57c8f83ac4
https://myerotica.com/a-string-of-pearls-amalfi-9c57c8f83ac4
