Under Dark Skies

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I’m a soldier of fortune
An ambassador of pain
I had the world on a string
Then I threw it all away
I’m a prince of illusions
All spinning around in my brain
You’re driving me insane
I’m going out of my mind
And I won’t be back again
I was driving down the street
And I saw you in the rain
Now it’s breaking my heart
And I want you back again

– Bryan Ferry, Soldier of Fortune*

 

I came to him under dark skies and steady winds.

He welcomed me into his softly lit kitchen and made me a cup of tea.

And as dawn approached I told him an elaborate story of fantasy and death, passion and infidelity.

As the sun came up, the story came to an end.

The words stopped.

Making space for something else.

He placed a bowl of cold grapes in my hands and kissed my forehead.

The softness of his lips igniting my skin with desire.

And I looked at him, really, for the first time.

And could not look away.

He came to me then.

Gathered my face in his hands.

And kissed my lips, perfectly.

With the promise of more …

“Will you please do that again?” I asked quietly.

He obliged.

With his decadent, liquid kisses.

With his lush, luxuriant lips and soft warm tongue.

He parted my lips, and parted my legs and moved in between them.

And said, “Come.”

Taking my hand and leading me away …

“You’re exquisite,” he said holding my hands around my hair, his lips whispering over mine.

He consumed my flesh.

And bathed me in his mouth.

“Your thighs are perfect,” he murmured.

“More,” I said. “Please give me more.”

And again.

He obliged.

Thank you, Susan, I whispered with a slow smile over his shoulder.

And returned to his hot, wild mouth once more.

 

 

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