The slanted halo, shy boldness or scary attraction?
written by:
Djay Em

------------------- The slanted halo, shy boldness or scary attraction? ------------------- Copyrights Djay Em

I was invited to one of Suzanne's evening, only attended by singles, on a referral from my friend Rick. I'm a member of the male species which avoided organised hunts for mates, flirty society parties, blind dates, or any such find-someone event. Everybody was on their best behaviors, defaults shadowed and qualities polished, but all cautious. It's bland, predictable, and repetitive. Better to met that special someone in a pottery class, or bump into them on the street. Some would call it relying on fate, I call it the natural spice of life.

Just as I picked up the phone to reject it, being polite but firm, I decided Suzanne hadn't earned my frustration. Ricky -not her-knew my distate for such meat markets, with it's artifice and falsehoods, so I toyed with calling him on his home number, and his cell phone, to burn his ears in stereo.

"Best of intents" was his soothing reply, with the usual "Good looking guy like you," tacked with "Alone too long," added to a "Mystery to me." A surprising "If I had a sister," threw me for a loop though.

Alright, I get the point. I'm considered handsome by the ladies, fine. I exercise daily and brush my teeth too, even better. But lonelyness still had settled itself in my life.

What convinced me, however, was when he told me about a food orgy he had attended. Fully dressed, cold buffet, everything must be enjoyed from someone else's skin; fingers or hands against the lips not allowed. The originality stopped me cold. Hmm. Her little nibble of a tasty whatnot in the hollow of my neck, my slow enjoyment of some succulent whatever in the nook of her elbow. Fashion offered delicious possibilities.

He warned me not to expect the same, just an ice breaker ambiance like a sexy scavenger hunt, or a sensual twist to the classic cheese and wine. I didn't care. For having organised these suggestive concepts, naughty but lewdless, my hostess had earned my respect without having even met her.

So that Saturday night, a light flurry of lazy snow fell as I drove the few hours to her chalet. For the beginning of Autumn, the precotious big flakes lasted as long as I was behind the wheel, and were a memory once I arrived.

The chalet was wide, cutish in it's european mountain style, yet with a wooden deck circling the first of the two floors; but it wasn't overly big either. From what I had gathered, a room would be placed at our disposal. So I envisionned twenty-plus odd bedrooms, a kitchen to feed us tonight and tomorrow morning, added to a large living room. Possible, but it stretched the imagination. This I mentionned to my hostess once greeted at the door, as a quick headcount of guests within my sights placed them at over forty.

"The surrounding deck is extended in the back," she explained with a serene smile. Wearing a formal and elegant black dress, complimenting her mid-back blond hair, her fingers laced before her straight posture, she was all majestic regality. Raymond, her butler I presumed by his attire screaming his name as "Jeeves", relieved me of my coat as he added the missing explanation. "It links to another chalet behind us."

I made the expected 'Ah' of comprehension. Two chalets? Interconnected? She took her evenings very seriously then. She must of been a betrothal arranger in another life. Must.

"The evening is quite simple," Suzanne said. My ears perked up as I deduced she would explain tonight's unique angle. "I ask only that you mingle, enjoy yourself, but later respect my roof in keeping to your own assigned room."

I schooled my features to hide my dissapointment as Raymond handed me a numbered key while taking my bag of night clothes. That was it? Mingle as any other party? With the reputation of her evenings, was she serious? I frowned as an eyebrow shot up, my brows now a funny diagonal. This was impossible to enforce, not with two chalets filled with tiptoeing sexsneaks who came with sweetened expectations. The naughty dissapointment alone would do the reverse, it'd create a slow simmer among her guests and-

Sunlight hit the back of the cave. Oh nice. A single sentence, no unusual party organisation, same ice breaker. I gathered she saw my confusion replaced by comprehension, as she nodded her leave with a faint smile, then left for her other guests.

Intrigued, I took the room in a long look. Carved moldings everywhere, furnished with elegant antique darkened woods. The few seats lacked in their numbers, forcing all to stand and mingle.

Everyone was on display.

And were a sharp contrast to the setting. Jeans, dresses, suits, T-shirts, slacks, turtlenecks, camisoles, jackets- Bermudas? I layed an arm across my chest, my other elbow on it's wrist, with my chin falling into my hand. We're a diverse bunch aren't we? The simple explanation was that people hadn't known the theme, had guessed how to dress, as I had.

Despite my food clincher, I wasn't styled for that. Yet I now realised that I had unconsciously picked loose fabrics, easy to be pushed aside to reveal my skin, with my neck left bare. Wardrobes chosen with secret expectations were giving clues to our personalities. Either our hostess was a genius with a twisted sense of humour, or we were part a secret governmental research.

I began the rounds, keeping mostly to myself but attentive to those around me, to sound them out before I really mingled. "What do you think of the restriction?" was asked in various ways during my casual survey of the conversations. And asked. Constantly asked. A mental sigh of respect fluttered against my thoughts. Suzanne knew was she was doing alright.

Halfway through the room, boredom settled to the repetitive question. But one male response, to the feminine inquiry, made me grant my first award for honest but original answer.

"That it will be broken before midnight?"

"Is that an oberservation?" she purred back. "Or an intent?"

Second prize awarded, for replies this time. That soft feline vibrating, containing that hardly hidden proposal, clearly stated her intent. Interesting as it may develop, I left them their semi-privacy. My hearing roamed as my feet did the same within the room.

"...I'm sorry," a clear feminine voice said levelly, a true apology in her tones, not simply a brush off. "But I had a hard day, and a long drive. No bad feelings?" It sounded simple, honest, without subtle heart games or false ego strokings. I approuved with a tilt of my head.

"Long, Hard and Bad feelings are what I'm looking for..." and her speaker left it hanging, the bait swinging in his heated wordless breath. His deliberate misunderstanding to her polite refusal, twisting it to add that verbal pounce, rubbed me in every way but the right ones. My spine twisted in annoyance as I grimaced.

"Not tonight," she said firmly, a verbal slap on his wrist. Then added in a heavy flirt, "Perhaps another time?"

Oh the tease... Some perversity of my temperament cheered for that playfull rebuttal. I turned towards the voices where a heavyset man blocked my view of a brunette, save her head.

She gave him a slow sensual wink added to a saucy smile. To his back reacting as a released bow, added that when I received such a combination it weakened my knees, I knew he'd just been devastated. Good girl!!

Over his shoulders, her eyes met mine for a brief moment, rounded slightly, then she glanced away as her mouth closed. A flicker of a return to my eyes, her lips slitted shut save a tiny circle in their center. Then walked away.

I debated whether to follow her or not, but decided against it as she had exited without a clear invitation for me join her. She had escaped to regroup, regain a firmer footing, which at parties we all needed sometimes. I had all night. I made a mental note, to keep my eyes sharp for signs of her, then stuck it to the forefront of my mind.

Raymond welcomed a new arrival and her beauty was breath taking, even for a stunning blonde. He took off her coat, revealing a figure and a bust which other women envied in their secret hearts.

Then he handed her a filled glass. His foreknowledge of her beverage choice revealed her as a regular, but her appearance argued otherwise; she should of snatched a lucky bachelor before that could be labelled onto her.

Her stance, as she took the room in a slow glance, was the confirmation that she was a prowler. Claws clicked against her glass as she inspected the guests. Eyes veiled with curiosity to hide the hungered challenge, her nostrils slightly moving at inhaling the various scents of the party mingled with that of fresh prey.

My focus being in her direction, her sights connected then fixed on me. A corner of her mouth lifted in a twitch, a scary smile, and her eyes darkened, mysterious and unreadable, yet intense. Very intense. I couldn't tell if she was undressing me, or imagining my death. My own eyes narrowed with a mild frown; flattering, but no thank you. Call me a fool, but predators were not on my menu. Or should I say, I wasn't on theirs.

So I walked away, back straight, slow steps, as I casually slipped my hand within a pocket. I couldn't help myself, as my tongue found itself a niche in my cheek, I placed more unhurried distance between us with the masculined version of the feminine strut.

Yes, I can be a tease too. And proud of it too.

I caught sight of our hostess and her eyes sparkled with alternate flashes of mischief and satisfaction, biting her lips as if trying not to laugh. She nodded regally to me as she raised her champagne flute in salute. Either I had broken a speed record in wordless predatory rebuttals, or the huntress had been due a failure. Which ever one, I was glad to oblige.

Once I sat at the bar, a ghosted tingle ran over my nape, and knew someone's gaze was apon me. Predator? I looked into the mirror, behind myself, but she was nowhere in sight.

I dismissed it from my mind, it was time to mingle.

My new neighbor seemed interested in all things within her immediate vicinity; her glass and me. Glad to... Er... meet you Mary, I'm... Um... Oh, never mind.

That Mary was a little high in the alcohool levels was a mild description, that her eyes floated was closer to the mark. She complained that no one sheemed to be inter'shted in her company. She was a good looking gowl, her exes ('X's? Hexes?) said sh'was a good lay. And they all shwore she gave da best bowljob 'ver, sho what made these other chicks so spucking facial huh?

I raised my eyes to the heavens. You're kidding me right? Form the crowd to the bar, I had left the jungle for the comedy club. Another drink and little Mayweee (Was that french? Mais oui!!) managed to drink a few sips before it was sloshed and splashed empty to her sisterly accusations.

We got a male visitor which took her conversation skills away from me. He waved his own liquid courage in emphasis to his every fourth word, which rhymed with either duck or ducking. That perverse side of me kept me busy with various forms of sanitions. I got some trucking ducks, tucking bucks, mocking knocks, pucking canuks, rocks sucking amok. All in the space it took for her to order then receive her newest drink. I'm not a prude, and I've tilted the elbow too hard a few times in the past myself, but still...

Double shots were thrown down the back of their throats and onwards they blasted. A copulate here, chaining it to a fornicate there, then the sentence was finished. I meant the phrase was finished, my sentence kept on going. But I hung in there. I almost died when she stared in sorrow at her empty glass and he passed the verdict that there must be a hole in it.

Cocktails continue, but as four seperate words slipped into four different sentences. Oops, five words in four I meant; 'in you' are two words even if in the same breath. Those very two words of his, when slurred to describe exactly what was exploring her inner self -and she seemed agreable- was the point I beated a hasty retreat claiming bathroom needs. He was willing, she appeared to be game, I willed my appearance away from the entire game.

The patio doors bekoned me, and there was no truer nature call than going outside, thus whitening my lie to the boozephonic duo. I had to escape this mixture of dream and nightmare, but all surreal.

Clean sweeped of any snow, with no artificial lights dotting the deck, it was almost perfect. I carefully closed the glass doors to prevent the heat from escaping, then walked a little to escape the lights from inside.

"You've got the twisted sense of humour," I shot in a murmurr at the skies, picturing that grisonned old man overlapped by the image of the sensual mother of all. Whomever reigned up there, if not both as a two-in-one, they sure must of had a good laugh. Of all of Suzanne's nights, I had to attend the one which mirrored all others I shunned. And tonight's various behaviors were so... so... not encouraging to sharpen the drill and dig beneath the surface.

I softly swore in my breath (the pucking canuck). Did I want some cheese with that whine? I rubbed my hands over my face, drywashing it to stimulate my brain and flush the negativity away.

The breezeless night wasn't chilly, just a cold caress which didn't raise your hairs nor made you shiver. I had walked far enough, and I layed my arms over one another on top of the wooden banister. I glanced at the stars flirted by the backlit moonglowed clouds.

Warmed solely by the cold fires of starlight, I drank the night with it's cool quiet comfort. Peace.

"Lonely peace," I murmurred as I had no one to share this wonderfull sight with. No, I definetly wasn't being fair here. Not one bit. Fate needed my help for it to help me, because the promise was there. I just had to find it. Find her.

She found me as she handed me a glass.

I lowered my sights back to earth, and I held back a happy sigh as the lovely creature which graced my view was the wink-and-smile brunette of earlier. Cream colored loose pants with a shoulderless white blouse enhanced her pale oval face in the moonlight. Cut a little higher than shoulder length, I realised her dark brown hair didn't make her a true brunette as blond filaments flirted my eyes with starshine.

"Amaretto and coke," she said slowly, a so slight quiver in her clear voice. "You looked like you needed a drink, by the way you left. H-hope it's not too ladyish."

"Thank you," I said. I took her offerance with a gratefull nod of my head. A warm, and very friendly smile lit my face and reflected back to me in her hazel eyes. Her small one appeared in response, an embarassed lipbitting one, then she glanced away. Her eyes closed for a moment, took a small discreet breath, before returning to face me with a more relaxed expression.

"I'm Sharra," she said while she offered me her hand. Her voice was steady now, all calmness on the surface, yet her finger slightly trembled and betrayed some strong undercurrents in her system. I took it, shook it as I gave her my name, and noticed with surprise that her hand was comfortably warm, without being moist or clammy as anxious encounters were.

Shy, but brave in showing a casual front, yet not nervous.

Yet I imagined her feet wanting to take her far away, and she nailing them to the floor; but with a crowbar hidden behind her back and ready to unplank the deck for a fast getaway.

Her hidden struggles were endearing, but duty called. My most charming smile slipped itself on my lips as I took a deep breath, tasting the cool air to clear my mind and then tried to make her relax.

The first exchanges of small talk didn't work as well as could be hoped, not as indicated by her furtive eyes beneath her mask of calmness. I thanked her again for the almond and caramel drink, taking a sip to emphasise my point, as well as for joining me on this lovely night, waving at the beauty before and above us.

Her eyes took in the clouds chasing the stars to seduce them, the silence broken only by sounds brought by the unfelt breeze. She closed her lashes and some tension eased from her face, especially around her eyes.

She stood far enough for me to glimpse her feet without moving, yet too close for subtleness in appreciating her figure. But with her eyes now closed, no conversation to busy my mind, my vision indulged me as it quickly roamed before I could stop myself.

I had already noticed she was almost my height, yet not quite, as she needed to tilt her head upwards to look at me, therefore my curious eyes first saw her flat shoes. I realised that if she would stand on her tippytoes, or wear heels, we would be eye leveled. Symbolic equals, or lip levelled, both held their own charm.

Above, those cream loose pants teased my sights, their wide cut hiding treasures. But clues were given in her slim ankles, in the way the fabric had previously hugged her legs when she had distributed her weight from foot onto the other. I envisioned smooth creamy thighs. Just fleshy enough to pillow your head, to nuzzle your cheek against, for when you took a break from a southern french kiss. Inviting you to settle yourself comfortably, enjoy for a few moments the splendid view of her chest rise and fall to her adorable labored breathing, before continuing the sensual discoveries.

Further upwards, her straight white shoulderless blouse hid her waist. Waspish, hourglass, lush, or athletic, the delicacy was unfathomable. She defeated my imagination, aside from being slender yet not slim.

My eyes climbed to view higher sights, to the straight fall of the snowy fabric which hid the bottom of curved performances, yet suggested small but lovely breasts in it's upper molding, finishing the concealment of her twinned peaks her bra had begun. A lure. Her chest was nothing less than a splendid lure, and the bane of all sensible men and no few women.

All this I saw in the time it took for me to draw a breath -and it caught beneath my breast- while my pulse did a double-beat. My dimmed mind was betwixt a dazed dazzle and a stupified stupor. I mean, between a dazed stupor and a stupified dazzle. I mean, I was stupidazzled. I mean...

Stunned.

Her eyes opened and I shook my brain out of it's wonderfull shock, while I forced my lungs to work, told my heart not to work for both she and I. What expression was painted on my face, I had no idea. I hoped it didn't reveal how I had been undressing her.

I bit the bullet. I expressed my honest gratitude for her being an even lovelier sight than the evening was. I was encouraged as those lips itched upwards. [i]Flatterer [/i]her eyes playfully chided me.

This somehow led to swapping stories of our experiences tonight. We jointly decided that Long Hard Bad Feelings was on a par with trucking ducks. Then laughs at the holy glass finally loosened her. Unsurprising, all our encounters had one thing in common.

"Is sex all they can talk about?" she asked with a wry smile, her amused exasperation shining within the gloss of her lips as she tilted her head towards the party. The mouvement swayed her bangs across her forehead, a wave of dark gold over pearled starglow. I fought the urge to brush them aside, to feel if their silky promise was true, if her skin beneath them was as smooth as it's suggested.

"I'm not a prude," she continued. "And I understand that Suzanne organises these evenings for that purpose. I mean," she swallowed so silently, I saw it more than I heard it. "I'm here ain't I? But still..."

I wisely said nothing at first as I agreed yet dissagred with her. The subject had been somewhat a pain with the others before, true, but I found myself enchanted -and a little light headed- at the notion of discussing the same with this fine lady. I gave a mental shrug at my double standard. Guilty as charged. Mea culpa.

"True," I finally admitted. "I guess it's not what we say, or even do; it's 'how' that counts."

Her eyes gave narrowed amused accusations. "Meaning?"

"Meaning for us to discuss it, or even perform it-" Her eyes slightly rounded, more her lashes had risen by a fraction. Damn, I meant 'us' as all guests. I hadn't intended planting [i]that [/i]image of she and I, at least not now, so I hurried along. "...It's the method that matters, not just the content."

Too dark to interpret her wider pupils, but the air between us become taut, a magnetism at work to my senses. For a heartbeat, her tongue darted across her lips, moistening them, as her thumb caressed her glass. The subject was now apon the table, served as a layed temptation between us. Would she bite as I had unwittingly did?

A very small smile appeared, just the corners of her coy lips wanting to rise beneath a light flush. She took a quick peek to look straight into my eyes, a flattered flash of her vibrant brown eyes beneath black lashes, then returned her attentions to her glass. But that darted glance was immediately followed by the rise of her shoulders and chest, then slowly descended with her lips rounded in a very small circle accompanied by a light shiver.

She straightened in the slightest, her head giving a hard tilt to move her hair away from herself without quite throwing it backwards seductively. If that gesture was meant as a tranquiliser, mission failed, I found it incredibly seductive as I painfully swallowed around a lump in my strangled throat.

"Us? How?" she asked, with curious indifference, her disinterest piled a little too thick to be genuine. Slap on the wrist? Hidden interest? My knees lost a little strength when she added, "Performance wise I mean."

"I mean," I started, and my voice was much steadier than it had any right to be with my choked throat. She had gamely taken a bitefull and a half, I had to rise to the challenge while chewing my words now. "That we can make love, have sex, or we can duck."

She giggled despite herself, her head shaking in disbelief as she half-rolled her eyes. At my lame pun, or at herself for finding it funny, only God knew and the devil had a clue. She tried to regain some casualness, but those luscious lips were begging, pleading to smile. A sensual ease between us was in her voice as she asked me the question men usually asked women. "Isn't us making love, having sex, and trucking, one and the same?"

"No." I smiled. Our similar bleaching of the most famous word while discussing intimacy, possibly with each other, now gave my lips a fond if sinfull twist. "All three are different."

"Really?" This she stated more than asked.

"Really. And they're not seperated by gray areas either."

To this she curiously frowned. "Oh?"

"No, because all three can be done at the same time." I sighed wantonly, closing my eyes as I imagined for the upthousanth time what I had only read. I couldn't resist placing her with me in the image and my voice became the barest of murmurrs. "If that happens to us..."

Perhaps it was due to the vision of us in my mind, or my closed eyelids made me more sensitive, but the air changed again. From the strained and pulling of before, now invisible sparks flashed between us, their heat almost felt, the electricity raising the hairs of my arms.

I heard her small gulp. Her hushed whisper. "Then what?"

Her quiver was back, in full force and carrying the tremble of fearfull excitement, a breathless fascination riding within it. My heart stopped, then galloped. My eyes cindered, felt as embers lighting the night as I looked deep within hers. "Then it's magic."

A tiniest of gasps. Glass slipped from her fingers. Her hands quickly caught it again. With a splash of darkened amaretto onto her white blouse.

"I'm sorry," she said. Her voice shivered, her eyes avoided mine, her glass trembled. "But I have to clean this up inside."

Once again I was stunned, but at her speedy retreat as she left before I could even answer, even less offer to escort her.

I jumpstarted the gray matter with a hard shake of my head, then I followed her steps inside, hoping to find her as I rejoined the partyers. After a while, unsuccessfull in locating her, the evening wound down with Sharra having vanished.

Her stain added to her shyness, perhaps courage had lost and she kept herself out of sight. No, she had scrambled so quickly, without the smallest display at wiping her blouse, that she must have provided herself an excuse to leave my company. And now avoided me.

Was she the bashfull girl, with a skilled and passionate woman lurking beneath the surface, that I had scared off? Or had she felt a fearsome pull, too strongly drawn, and had scared herself which left me blameless? My ego voted for the latter. My better judgement settled on the former.

Having pushed too far, too quickly, I had become the predator. Damn but I hated to think that I had dissapointed her, scared her, infuriated her perhaps, by falling into tonight's sex trap like everybody else.

Tired and disgusted at myself, I realised that half the guests had gone to their rooms, and I decided to do the same. No, I decided to follow suit and go stuff myself into a closet like one as penance.

I didn't turn on the light as the obscurity suited my mood. The faint moonglow from the draped window was too cheery actually. But as I undressed, with it's implied promise of rest, weariness seeped into veins, chastising reflexions having leeched my last energies, and mouvements slowed as guilt-tainted syrup replaced blood.

That bad.

Now in the buff, I weakly snorted at the notion of slipping on my pajama bottoms, never mind unpacking them. I never saw the color of my pillow, excused by my laying on my back, but I never saw the ceiling either. I was out like a- No, lights are much slower.

* * *

I woke to a roaring desire blasting through my veins. My heart drummed in my chest, my breath short, and a thin layer of sweat over my entire body.

I took a steadying gulp of air as I sat up, moved at little backwards to rest my back against the headboard. My glance was attracted to between and over my thighs as a male twitch was seen and felt. My upright arousal was glistening brightly in silvery night colors and shades. Bits and pieces of an erotic fantasy, hazel eyes and an alluring figure it's focus, seeped back into my mind.

A thrown sack of rock, made of humiliated misery, landed in the pit of my stomach. Now I realised why I had woken up in such a palpitated state. I groaned as I brough my palms to my eyes. My teenager days of wet dreams were long past weren't they? Sharra was a dream in herself, but still...

I took another deep long breath, which came out as a sigh of despaired resignation, while I briefly wondered where the tissues were to wipe the mess. A realisation struck my groggy mind as I caught a sexy odor, the figurative flick of a finger beneath my nose that drew me up short and woke me. I inhaled deeply, for the third time now, and relaxed as I savored the scented wisps left by an aroused woman.

Only then did I notice that the sheen covering my entire erection couldn't be semen. Saliva? I had to make sure and brough a sample to my tongue. No. That unique wonderfull tang was liquid feminity, the true ambrosia of the- Whoah!?!

Back up! Rewind! Reload the webpage!

How the hell did she mount me without waking me? How slow did she go to tint my dreams but not disturb them? And... Who? Who had indulged herself?

I forced myself to fill my lungs to capacity, and rein in my galloping thoughts. I laced my fingers behind my head, excitment and awe dancing together on my lips, and layed back against the headboard as I drew a list of the adventurous ladies.

I noted of my clear headedness -if still tired- thus eliminated the use of knockout drugs. But I couldn't decide who was the smooth criminal. Not that I felt violated, but she had robbed me of a wonderfull experience. Not to mention sinfully unprotected, since she left no only her fragrance in the room, but her essence on me.

She was a daring one, a gambler, and my lips twisted in a crooked smile. I took some reckless risks myself in the past, few and far between, never in intimacy, but still took them. So I appreciated the low odds of the chance she had taken; not threatening yet still possessed the secret thrill of danger, of possibly landing us on the double zero.

But who? Someone with guts, without a doubt.

A defeated wishfull sigh passed my lips as this eliminated my fantasy's focus. Useless to venture on who I wanted it to be, I concentrated on who it could be. I sighed again but in determination, drawing strength from it.

So... Who's eye had I caught, yet she hadn't caught mine?

This is the third millenium, the balance shifting as women regained the power that is rightfully theirs, and perhaps I had met one of their scouts. I was now burning to know her name, her face, her eyes, her life. She fascinated me.

I layed still for a timeless moment. Minutes? An hour? I don't know, but my ravenous curiosity began losing the battle against fatigue, my head nodding and hitting nails. My head snapped up with owlish blinks, jerked awake by my own small snore. I decided I better lay back down to sleep, puzzle this out tomorrow, when I heard a soft sigh of relief beneath me. Ah-ha.

I waited for events to further unfold. I didn't want to startle my new friend -the one hidden beneath the bed- before I knew who she was. In this demi-darkness, her anonymity needed only a quick escape with her hands before her face. So I waited.

But she was a patient one, more so than me, and needed more encouragement it seemed. Ever tried to snore, not in the classic way, but in imitating yourself snoring? I attempted it. Most probably without success, but I banked that she never heard my nightly sounds any more than I did.

I was rewarded by the swoosh of fabric sliding on the wooden floor. A head appeared, my breath caught as it threw it's dark hair backwards with a scintillation of gold made by a single strand. She then stood with her back to me, a delicate bust silhouetted against the window, her figure hidden by her mid-thigh night shirt. But rising into it's hem, legs made of dreams and hopes were revealed.

The puzzle fell in place. She had been determined and brazen to attempt this, such as coming to me before I approached her. Yet shy and anxious to hide before discovery, trying to run away as she had already done before. This added to a patient touch to have gotten me so far without waking me, as patient as waiting for us to be alone together.

The contradictions were tasty teases, her personality a unique spice. I fought against the irrational urge to kneel and ask for her hand. I reached out my own instead, palm's up in the universal gesture of invitation.

"My Lady Sharra?" Three words. One heart offered.

She gasped as she straightened, then whipped around on herself to look at me, the hem flirting higher than her thighs yet her shadow hid the most prized of sights. I heard her anxious swallow as her head tilted downwards, her eyes seeing my offered hand. She gulped this time, as she slowly reached out, acknowledging my correct guess instead of running away.

Fingertips brushed mine, hesitant, quivered in indecision. I pulled them closer, gentle in drawing her next to me, as I willed the small contact to radiate safety.

I shifted myself for her to lay down and she followed my lead. Her legs stretched themselves next to mine, smooth skin feathering against mine. Her chest and mine lightly pressed together, the soothing warmth of her body felt through her nightshirt. The fit was divinely perfect, if her mood wasn't; she seemed puzzled my offer of comfort, instead of the expected masculine carnal charge.

Face to face, she settled her head a little lower into the cup of my welcoming shoulder, her raised eyes searched my face. Either she dreaded being done what she had done to me, or she dreaded why I was disinterested in the appropriate male urgings; but dread was what shadowed her sights with silent questionnings.

From beneath her, I draped my arm around her, fingers sliding down seductively against her arm. The others brushed that hair from her forehead, to push aside her fears. Relief appeared in her wooden toned eyes as I sent her a mental message through mine. Yes, I desired her, but no, there was no rush. And those bangs hadn't lied, soft and silken, they were a caress to my fingertips.

Without warning, words blurted from her lips. "I'm so sorry. I really don't know what came over me, but it just felt like if-" All this in the time it took for my hand to lower from her forehead to her lips and silence her with a finger. It could wait, we weren't going anywhere. I just wanted her within my arms, bury my nose in her hair, and continue to brush those bangs away from her forehead.

"Tomorrow." The promise of her explanations, followed by my unjudgemental understanding, would happen when the sun rose. But only then. I simply wanted to exist next to her for a while, and drink her presence.

She gave a little happy sigh, finally at complete ease with me and snuggled in deeper into my shoulder. She scooted herself further down, her shirt rising much above her waist in a tentalising sight. Sexes brushed, sending sparks up my spine, making her shiver.

Our eyes locked, carnal questions wrapped in flames were exchanged, and existance next to her transformed into sharing existance with her. I hooked my finger beneath her chin, tilted her head to me, to lay my lips onto hers. She was the fastest, as she snaked her arm over my shoulder, her hand on my nape both caressing and pulling me to her.

I tasted almonds on her breath, savored how sweetened her tongue was, as we danced between our cheeks. One moment she welcomed me into her mouth with a rising passion, the next she was charged with boundless naughty enthusiam as I greeted her within mine. I matched her fever, and stroked it higher with my own.

My hand wandered to her exposed hip, her leg draping itself over mine to offer her thigh. I indulged the both of us with my fingertips on her skin, she indulged as well when her grip molded my rear cheek. Our fingers trembled with urgency, yet our breath were steady if shallow. My heartbeat unhurried but strong, as my ears pounded to the same rhythm. Fingertip brushed her neck, her slow pulse jumping against my skin. Our controlled excitment was tingling the air, the calm before the storm.

I lowered my lips, trailing down her throat. Her skin was salty, from her sweat of when she bedded me while I slept. That evoqued a charged image, so powerfull that I shuddered and I was suddenly near the edge. This wouldn't do. I guessed that she had brought me very close, that it was what had woken me.

With a small moaned sigh, her hand left my rear, travelled over my hip, began sliding down to my hardened passion. My hand quickly stopped her. "Don't." My warning was deep throated, a little choked, and had to clear my voice for my coming damning confession. "I'm too close."

She giggled softly, a low sound of amused guilt, that tainted my lips back into a smile. Then her excitement hoarsened her voice. "I was a bad girl wasn't I?"

"Very bad," I agreed huskily, laying my lips against her eyelid in a butterfly kiss, then the other, to finally chastise her with a playfull tap on her nose with the tip of my own.

"So what are you going to do ab- OW!" she laughed as I slapped her romp, more noise than pain.

"That's what," I answered her unfinished question, then bent in two to kiss it better. But I caught that sweet, oh-so-sweet, smell of her damp desire.Too tantalising to resist, I deeply breathed her scent to let it's enebriating effect take hold of me for a moment. She tensed for a moment, then lowered her leg, a caress against mine, as she settled herself on her back, her hips slightly rising towards me.

I couldn't refuse such an invitation. A break in tradition, I softly kissed her mound before all else beneath the neck. A quivering sigh flew out of her lips. I drew my mouth away, tongue washing my lips to savor her, while I distanced myself from that tempting treasure. I saw her hairs glisten with feminine moisture, reflecting the faint moonlight. I knew the time was right, but not yet. Not yet.

I climbed higher, lips tasting hips, waist, tummy, away from further temptations as I rose her nightshirt to my ascent.

"Oh you damn tease," she whispered, a sweetened ache floating in her warm breath as I layed a trail of wet kisses everywhere.

She squirmed, undecided if she wanted my ascent to her hilled valley, or descend back to her secret dale. Her hands decided to push down on my shoulders with her exhalation of aroused anticipation and surrender. I hear and obey. Somewhat.

I kissed her thigh. Her knee. Drew long wet lines just outside her lips, carefull not to touch them, sending her into protesting squirms again. But I never tease without giving a little. I softly kissed that tender ticklish area between sex and anus, went up her engorged lips with mine, which coaxed a shudder of pleasure from her system. Then I went for the other, unserviced until now, waiting leg.

She whimpered as her fingers chastised me in their tightening in my hair. Her free knee rising and falling as her foot wandered sensually on the bed. "Come on," she breathed softly, a languid plea. "I wasn't too far either. This is driving me insane."

I trailkissed back to the V of her thighs, then hovered where her lips met, my breath revealing the maddening closeness. I lowered, touchless still, while keeping my wind warm. She shuddered as I floated above her button, her grip on my hair showing her impatience at my presence being so close yet denied. Flicking it with my tongue, I indulged her in a mixture of sensations and emotions. She arched as she half-sat up with a gasp, my hair pulled, twisted, curled, by her fingers until she relaxed back down.

Once more I licked, but applied a feathered touch, to let her clit caress the tip of my tongue. With a groan she raised her hips, her lips kissing mine as she pressed her sex to me, asking, demanding, commanding more from me.

Unhurried, I pleased her. Attentive in how best to pleasure her. Nothing mattered but her. How to touch her.

Her breath deepened, now a series of pleasured sighs as her foot slid against the sheets without pause. For every two rungs she rose in her sensual delight, a slow ascent towards bliss, I climbed one of my own in empathic pleasure.

I applied a stronger, gentler pressure onto her tiny shaft, where finesse and fierceness met and ignited her. She gasped as her glazed eyes rounded in surprise. I repeated it and with sensual disbelief, she shakily moaned "Oh mah God..."

I engraved in my mind this preference of hers. My soul flashed a mental smile both crooked and tender as I rehearsed it many time to commit it to memory. Paradise was close at hand as her shallow breath became a hard wind, then a labored panting.

Her thighs vibrated against my cheeks, her stomach tightened as I felt her toes curl. A shiver hung on her breath, became a soft exhaled moan through her open lips at tasting heaven. I stopped for a sole heartbeat, letting her savor the power of the coming moment. I retasted her with the beat unbroken, simply skipped once, and she arched as her fiery climax washed over her senses, biting her lip not to cry out.

I slipped twinned fingers within her, a small cry escaping her lips as her heated sheen eased her welcome of me. Fingertips searched her upper wall, her private muscles squeezing strongly in the echoes of her orgasm, and found that hidden elusive mound of ecstasy nerves.

Firmly I circled it while coming back and forth against it, as well as between her lips, and I felt her going limp, dissolving, as if her sense of being flowed outside of herself.

I continued this as I resumed delivering licking ecstasy. Her face went to the left. To the right. Her head then flew in every direction in a wild cloud of hair. Every limb shuddered, her fingers squeezed the sheet in a death grip and toes curled, all in answer to her body's liquefying fusion of itself again. She sank into the bed in a crash, plummeted from her visit in the clouds.

I straightened back up, a warm glow inside me, drawing her into my arms once more. But she playfully growled "Oh no you don't!!" My eyebrows dissapearied into my hairline at the power contained in that voice, that amused aggressivity catching my breath. "It's your turn to suffer you tease!!"

She twisted herself out of my embrace and simply saddled me up. No muss, no fuss, yet no detachment either as her face softened as my silken head rested in the crease of her smooth lips. She winked, the slowest most sensual lowering of an eyelid possible, added to the sauciest of smiles. I melted from within as my spine became a pool of helplessness.

She hung there, unmoving, her breath quickening simply to my rounded tip nuzzled into her valley. She sank the width of a finger and stopped, her mouth slowly wording a silent monologue of pleasureto her sweetened torture against her own eagerness.

"You like it slow I see," I noted with breathless wickedness tainted by a cringe of oversensitivity. Another barest of drops within her tropical cleavage, sharpening the fever. Oh, the haloed devil. The horny angel. The-

"Let's just say," I heard her whisper, a sinfull wisp of innocence clouding her voice, as she lowered herself oh-so-slowly, killing me with her lips. "That you've whet my appetite for it."

Classic whet or naughty wet? Passionate truth or sexy pun? With that guileless guiltyness in her tones, I couldn't tell. Drunk on her wink-and-smile, added to her murderous pace, I couldn't think. Couldn't decide. I needed to know.

I took her face into my hand, to search it for clues. Instead I fell deep into her hazel eyes, circled by a thin chocolaty line, with wide black pools in their centers. Bashfull boldness, coy courage, and timid temerity shined within them while beating beneath her breast.

I knew then, there, that I would forever wonder, only knowing that her halo was slightly slanted onto her supportive horns. Overused image, perhaps, yet still true. Especially in how heavenly devilicious she sinned to bring me closer to paradise. I was hers then, wholly and completely, she had only to ask.

She blinked, her eyebrows rising in surrender as her eyes became ungarded, defenseless, while she stared into mine. She didn't ask, she offered herself instead.

I rose my hips, respecting her slow descent with my unhurried ascent. We watched each other while I slipped within her and she slid around me in tandem pleasure. We dissolved, melted as well as melded, both in spirit and body.

I kissed her as we met halfway, me filling her, she blanketing me. Then, as she slanted my halo to mirror hers, we achieved the impossible...

On our first night together, in harmony, we made magic.

The end