Fiction
14 Mar 2018


Lying in the sunshine the wind washed over him and lifted his body high and dropped him low. Weightless.

The waves were invisible where he lay and yet it lifted him high and then low and from side to side. Floating.

“Surprise, sometimes, will come around”, the hammock moved up and the cloud he’d been staring at seemed to be motionless above. Free.

“I will surprise you sometime”, the hammock moved down and low and the cloud he’d been staring at changed shape once again. Light.

“I’ll come around”, the hammock rocked back up and he closed his eyes. Darkness.

The sun had been strong and warm when he first lay down. He could feel it nurture and heal. His body stretched out, a loose pair of shorts was all he needed. The winter and spring had been cold in the previous months. Dark times and it felt like forever, but the ritual of setting up the hammock and laying out for the afternoon meant the beginning of something new. The early days of summer - so fresh and clean and promising - gave him a feeling of growth, satisfaction and in some ways anticipation for what may happen over the weeks to come.

A chance meeting, a shared story and smile that lingered long enough for eyes to meet and linger. Those eyes. He stretched and his hand felt for the cool Corona lying below. The lime tasted sublime sending a sweetness flying across his tongue and mouth as the cool beer flowed from the glass bottle.

Those lips.

He sipped once again.

“Come round, sometime”. Lips that welcomed.

Her eyes seemed to dance in front of him in a room filled with people in his periphery. The noise in the cafe was immediately dulled and it felt like it had just been the two of them sitting there.

“Sure”. Hell yeah.

That night, he’d actually given some thought to how he’d looked and for the first time in … he couldn’t remember. He cared. That feeling alone seemed alien.

Skinny grey jeans, shoes ? no … converse and a shirt seemed so much more in keeping with how he felt and it wasn’t like he wanted to be anyone else. He had grown over time and through changes for him and the life he’d known and despite the slings and arrows he’d come out smiling still and was comfortable as himself. No fuss. No drama. No regrets. “Rear view mirrors are small for a reason” and staring was never his thing.

“Come on in”, a kiss upon the cheek, warm lips.

“Nice choice of red, but I’ve one open, let me get you a glass”. His eyes on that ass as she walked away.

Homely, warm and full of pictures of times gone by filled her home and he felt immediately at ease. This was a person that adored life. Shells adorned the mantel of the fireplace beneath pictures of family ? friends ? holidays and memories encapsulated in an instant and presented to trigger a happy memory.

“What shall we drink to ?” Those lips are absolutely amazing.

“Old friends ?” She smells amazing.

“Fuck them ! Spontaneity and great asses” that wink, oh man, I want this woman.

Her sense of humour ? her smile ? the way he felt when he looked into her eyes ? the physical ? the mental connection he felt when they spoke together whether it was online or over a phone call that felt like minutes as the hours passed ? who knew and who cared.

The sound of a woman coming close to climaxing was something he never tired of hearing. Primal, resonating and raw.

Her eyes were closed, her mouth open wide in a long loud moan and her long dark hair thrashed from side to side as her head moved.

Her fingers gripped him and he could feel the sweet drag of her nails along his back down towards his ass. Her grip tightened as she pushed her hips up and pulled him with all her strength. She wanted more of him, all over her and as he paused and held deep within her body and consciously pulsed and teased her with his body she convulsed and rocked and emitted a groan that began from her abdomen and moved through her chest. Her mouth … her lips … her tongue …. her eyes wide open now. “Come for me”, he wanted her, her body and mind and her soul to give to him what he wanted and needed to feel.

Biting hard on her lip it began.

Savouring every shake and movement of her body he honoured the moment by slipping sideways and taking his tongue to her ear along with his lips and kissing her gently. His right hand pressing gently on above her sex extenuating the physical remnants of her climax with care as he purred ‘hmmmmm I want more’ to her. She lay body still writhing in pleasure, she gasped, unable or unwilling to engage with him and herself savouring the exquisite flow of her own body.

His fingers spread wide and low …. stroking up and down …

And he returned to the sky above and the swing of his hammock.

The beer was drained now but he let the mouth of the bottle hang on his lips where a smile emerged around it.

The summer sun and warmth on his body and that feeling of weightless returned.

His smile widened at his memory, the details that came each time.

Effortlessly it allowed him to bask in every touch and taste. In each shudder and pulse of muscle and each sound emitted. The importance of details was something he spoke of but few paid little or no attention to it or to any of his words.

People only really ever remember how they feel. Those that shout and cry out are ignored.

The moments when they feel the greatest highs or indeed the greatest lows are remembered only by them. Nobody else cares.

The feelings at either ends of a spectrum. The limits are different for all of us.

The hammock swung high and low carrying him as the sun came out once again from behind a passing cloud.


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