There was one week left till his birthday. We had not discussed what caused him to freak out that night. It was the least of my concerns considering the monstrous party his parents had arranged in Delhi. I realized how little we saw of each other. In the city that started it all, I would rekindle our love. My wait of Maan and the snow started with a cup of hot cocoa and the baby making dress. I decided on a teasing poster in the love chair, inviting him to turn me on.
He came home to an orange sunset and a loving wife. We hugged.
Shivers spiraled down my spine as I touched his young bone. He was sculptured with the silkiest of soils. I traced his sparse stubble interrupting an otherwise smooth terrain. My hand reached for his lip; he kissed the calluses. I had been waiting for him to come home for the first snow. His crooked crack of a smile dictated my joy. His wet lips met my collar bone. He was suckling on the nothingness of my goosebumps.
"I have never asked you. What you like?"
His whispers tickled my heart. I didn't know what I liked. My life had been so consumed by giving, I had not giving reception a second thought.
He opened the only chain that held my gown in place. I was naked; my truths exposed for him to notice. My lies uncovered for him to scorn on. He embraced me, my sparkling skin brushed against his, tugged against his , played with his. He became one with me. I was sensing, I was feeling, I was not thinking, I was taking in. Our intimacy was breath taking, breathless, out of breath. My crystal glass was full of sugar cubes.
"How do you feel?"
How did I feel?
Like I climbed my way up to the moon. Like I deserved him, I was worthy. I was the Holy Grail and he possessed my sacred. A hidden miraj and he found me. I was open, cut and visible. Like I was wearing a crown but he was the master. There was no pain, only pleasure. Heightened movements, loose lips and tight skin. His essence was running through my veins. I blinked in disbelief. I knew how to please a man. I would copy his maneuver, tread my way to his hips. He said, "no. I want you to relax".
I was a river and he had paddled through my rapids, down my ebbs and up my streams.
I was celebrating with everything around me; I was alive and enlightened.
He tuned my sound box on key, I was playing to his tune. Caving in to the need within. He pushed my hands against the bedding. I was sitting in showers cheering for spring. A flower bloomed. He smiled and engulfed my pink hues in his infinite heart.
"I love you", he parted and wrapped a silk cloth around my perked breasts.
"I...", I was searching for words. Struggling through piles of books to tell him what he had done to me. I was grateful.
"You don't have to speak at all", he pressed up his chest against mine. He searched my eyes and I, his curves hoping to cherish the love we shared 'neath the winter moon.
If you guys wish to check out the SS version of this story then please follow the following link:
Debate Mansion
