I caress my beloved drinking a Chardonnay
that reflects the profoundly intoxicating sunset
stretching molten fingers between the sentinel trees...
Experience bottled in precious moments labeled
with priceless conversations stored in the cellar
of the universe to open up and really enjoy
in a grave of ashes riding the wind breathing
through Love's Secret Forest...
Steve would probably accuse her of getting old and boring because one of her favorite pastimes was sitting out on her porch in the evenings sipping Chardonnay and listening to all the different birds singing. John was usually with her, and she lit candles as it got dark so he could read the small print in the bird book he consulted to figure out the names of the throats from which all the different lovely notes emanated. They spent so much time out there that they even got to know individual birds, including a male and female Cardinal who met in the same tree every evening and flew off together as night fell. She thought of all the birds that every day lost their homes when countless acres of woodland were bulldozed to make way for shopping centers, office buildings and condos. Where did they all go? For many species the answer was nowhere. Countless lovely songs would never be heard again, except perhaps in dreams, and in other dimensions of life that could never be destroyed.
Today, every time she touched her left shoulder blade, she suffered a sweet pain in the vulnerably soft skin that flowed up into her neck. John had fucked her from behind last night, the full weight of his body pinning hers down against the bed. He bit her as he drove into her, the sharp pressure of his teeth intensifying with his thrusts, the harder he banged her the more viciously he sucked on her. His guttural grown—in which she heard intense satisfaction combined with a dangerously growing need for even more of her—was an aphrodisiac of the most irresistible kind to Sofia. The burning pain in her neck flowed straight down into her sex like supernatural blood lubricating his hard-on and making it easier and easier for him to penetrate her as deeply as possible, then even more deeply, and deeper still. The more completely she yielded to him the more it stoked his lust, and she experienced a little of what helpless prey did in the jaws of a powerful predator—a submissive sense of peace at how desirable she was. A certain amount of pain turned her on, and it wasn't mental; it was purely and intensely physical. When he spanked her, her pussy got as hot as her ass, juicing helplessly while her blood rushed to the offended area. The tyranny of her clitoris was overthrown the minute she realized that submissively absorbing his controlled force made her sex wet like nothing else. When they spent the night together, she always had an orgasm in the morning when they made love more tenderly, but she was always thinking about the night's violent encounters as she climaxed.
The paper she was writing on the Romanian lute player songs had fallen by the wayside. She was more interested in her own poetry, inferior as it was. She also spent hours contentedly pondering the haunting power of her sex life. John could be so feral, so vicious in bed, it still amazed her how considerate and generous he was afterwards and at all other times. He was full of energy, always creating or studying or growing something. He wasn't from Louisiana, he had been raised in the mountains of Pennsylvania, but he loved East Feliciana as much as she did. “It's the perfect weather,” he said, “cold enough in the winter for a fire, but it rarely snows. I got sick to death of shoveling the snow out of my parents’ driveway."
"Well, I wouldn't know, I've never even seen snow. The farthest I've been is Houston, Texas for a conference."
"I'll take you to Europe, my lady. You need to travel and see the world. We'll start in Italy."
She laughed. “I'd love that, but right now I feel like I'm in a whole different world than Baton Rouge. Living out here is like an endless vacation, with responsibilities, of course,” she added, “but you take care of everything for me so wonderfully, I'm more relaxed and happy than I've ever been in my life here."
"And it makes me very happy to hear you say that."
They were lying on her bed. He had just fucked her ass, and she was resting in his arms after having cleaned his cock with a warm wet washcloth, after which she used another fresh cloth to dry him off.
"I'm going to take care of you. You know that, don't you, Sofia?"
"Yes, my lord."
"My divorce will be final soon."
"I'm glad!"
"Are you?"
"Yes ... I mean, I'm sorry you had to go through that, but ... I'm not, really."
"You're adorably easy to tease, you know."
She sighed. “Why did you and Anne decide to move out here? If you had all that money from the sale of your company, you could have lived anywhere."
"We'd both had it with the city, and, as I said, the climate here's ideal. People think the south's hot and humid all the time. They have no idea how beautiful it can be. Louisiana has a terrible reputation for everything, that's why so much of it's still unspoiled, under-populated and affordable."
"Those are increasingly rare qualities,” she agreed. “Most people wouldn't even know Louisiana existed if it wasn't for New Orleans, but the land and the climate are so different up here. I love them. I love everything about my life now."
"I'm glad.” He rested his hand against her face, pressing it more firmly against his chest.
"Do you think you'll ever get bored here?” she dared to ask.
"Only boring people get bored."
She smiled. “That's true, but ... you know what I mean."
"No, I don't. Why don't you tell me."
"I mean there aren't many people like us around here, John, there aren't any clubs..."
"There's one in Baton Rouge, but trust me, you wouldn't like it."
"Really? Why?"
"Let's just say most of the members aren't very decorative. They have a decent play space, with some nice toys, but when they get together on Saturday nights they mostly just sit around and talk, and believe me, the conversation isn't worth the drive."
"What do you mean they aren't decorative?"
"Let's just say a lot of them look like they eat too much fried pizza."
"Oh ... yuck."
"Exactly."
"Then I'm essentially right, there aren't any clubs-"
"Are you thinking about your gang-bang fantasy, Sofia? It is going to be hard to find the right men around here for that."
"No, I'm thinking about you, my lord,” she quickly protested, wondering if he could feel how her heart had sped up.
"What about me, my lady?"
"Have you ever been with two women at the same time?” she blurted.
"Oh, yes. Anne was bi-sexual."
"Oh ... don't you miss it? I mean, is just being with me all the time enough for you?"
"No, it's not enough, it's everything. I love you, Sofia. There are experiences that, on occasion, would make our sex life exciting in a different way than it already is, but it would never be better, it would just be different, and it would be pleasurable because we'd be sharing the experience. There are lots of fantasies I'd love to live out with you, but that doesn't mean I'm not perfectly happy just being here with you now."
She sighed again. “Steve was always getting restless, and bored. He was never satisfied with anything; nothing could hold his interest for long."
"You're with me now, Sofia. Try and remember that."
"That's funny, my lord, because you're all I think about, really."
"Well, I hope you can spare a thought for dinner, because I'm starving."
"It's already on the stove, ready whenever we are ... Why do you think I have a gang-bang fantasy?"
"You forget I've read your dreams. There are always other men around, and not just one or two, but a whole crowd of handsome men wearing black leather. I know what you'd like more than anything, trust me."
"But those were just dreams..."
"Excuse me?"
"Forgive me, my lord.�
�� He shouldn't need to remind her that she had first seen the man she loved and in whose arms she was lying now in just a dream.
Chapter Seventeen
I t was a glorious morning. After days of rain and brooding clouds and being trapped indoors, Sofia abandoned her chores and escaped into the forest. She knew which path to take, the one that led towards the place where they had met one evening and gazed up at the moon and the stars together. She would never forget the feel of his warm, heavy arm around her as he walked her back to her fireside, and how she could not wait to give herself to him, body and soul. She knew she would be his wife one day, she just didn't know when, and she prayed the breeze caressing her uncovered hair would fly to his window today and whisper of her longing to see him again in their secret place, where he first took her in his arms and kissed her lips.
All the leaves were wet, forming halos of soft green light sparkling with stars as the sun ascended between the trees, burning away the mist wrapped thick as furs around the noble old trees. The morning was chilly but she walked quickly, and soon she not only felt warm but happier than she knew she should be in an evil world full of suffering. Yet the birds were chirping joyfully, their songs ringing through the otherwise silent woods blessedly drowning out all doubts about the future so that it seemed to stretch before her as beautifully as the day. Birds were ruthless warriors in the eyes of bugs and worms armed with the swords of their beaks and cloaked in divine feathers. Their enchanting notes weren't meant for her, yet they filled her with hope, as though their music was sung directly into God's ear and humans just happened to overhear.
Her heart took off in her breast, urging her feet to run faster across the grass when she reached the end of the path leading out into the clearing where she had met him that evening. The sky was impossibly far away, a delicate blue bowl knocked upside down during the battle between good and evil from which the world spilled forth, and in which her soul was only a drop of trembling water reflecting the light of eternity in her thoughts. There was not a single cloud in the heavenly dome. If there truly were angels they were lazily lounging somewhere else today on their infinitely soft beds. She stopped in the middle of the meadow to catch her breath, and her hopes, which had gotten away from her, and left her feeling more alone than ever because he was not there.
A shadow swept across the grass before her, startling her into glancing over her shoulder as if Death had touched her. She looked up and saw a falcon soaring overhead, its wings fully spread. She took an exultant breath, and it was then that she saw him emerge from beneath the trees on the opposite side of the meadow.
She ran as fast as a rabbit terrified by the bird of prey circling overhead, but in truth she was hurrying towards him because her life depended on it.
He waited for her at the edge of the forest, and lifted her off her feet as he caught her in his arms. “Sofia!” he whispered.
"My lord!” she breathed. “I knew you would be here! I prayed you would be!"
"And I heard your prayers, for the whole world speaks to me with your voice, my love."
"And you, my lord, mean more to me than God!"
"Never say that, Sofia.” He set her down and gripped her firmly by the arms as he stared down into her eyes. “Look at me. I am only a man."
"No, you are the sun, without which I would be nothing, my soul only darkness and longing for you, my Lord!"
He pulled her roughly against him and kissed her, forcing her mouth open beneath his, and even though their tongues spoke silently of worms in the grave, she knew their love would defy death.
The End
*From The Bard of the Dimbovitza—Romanian Folk Songs Collected From The Peasants by Helene Vacaresco, translated by Carmen Sylva and Alma Strettell, London and New York Harper & Brothers, 1914
You can visit the author at www.mariaisabelpita.com
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