Sara's Dilemma

by Erica Michaels

  Erik and Sara at the Reservoir

  “Shall we sit down?” he says.

  She nods, dumbly, and climbs off the bike, pulling off her helmet and walking towards the body of water, all the silhouettes of trees reflecting back into her eyes.

  “This is one of my favorite places,” Erik says. He opens up a side compartment in his motorcycle and pulls out a blanket, laying it down under a pine tree near the water. Next, he grabs a bag and sits down on the blanket.

  “Care for a little snack?” he asks, pulling out crackers, cheese, and some bottles of water.

  “Why yes, very thoughtful of you,” Sara responds, pulling a cracker from its sleeve.

  “So, you’re a programmer?” Erik asks, taking a cracker as well.

  Sara nods.

  “Was that always your dream?”

  Sara shakes her head, swallowing. “No, it wasn’t really something I could have dreamed about when I was a kid. My family didn’t have a computer or anything. I always loved puzzles though, designing things.”

  “What did you want to do? Your passion?”

  “Photography probably, maybe a bit of painting or interior design,” she answers. “My grandparents were going to help pay for my schooling though, and they said they wouldn’t pay for something they saw as so impractical.”

  Erik nods slowly and looks out to the reservoir. “This, how would you photograph this?”

  Sara looks out, contemplating, looking at the grassy edges leading up to the tree line, the way the light reflects off the water.

  “I’d go a little further back,” she says, pointing behind them. “Past those trees and photograph this scene as if we were looking through this little secret cove, this hidden place between the tree trunks out at the water. Make it seem like you’re by the shore, but anyone else around the reservoir can’t see you.” She pauses and tilts her head a little, taking in everything she can from the water. “I’d definitely try to get those reflective lights in the photo, make them shine off like pieces of moon dropped in the water.”

  Erik looks out over the water too, imagining the photograph, mesmerized by her words.

  “It sounds rather beautiful,” he says, a half-eaten cracker laying limply in his hand.

  He sets it down as he looks to her.

  “Your hair looks like dark rose in this lighting,” he says, taking one stray piece in front of her face and tucking it gently behind her ear.

  Sara’s heartrate increases.

  My god, I’m like a schoolgirl, she thinks, this is a faster heartbeat than I had on the motorcycle!

  “Sara,” he says, his eyes intent and studying her. They are soft around the edges though, and she doesn’t feel vulnerable with him looking at her in such a way.

  “Erik,” she responds, trying to match his stare.

  “I’d like to kiss you,” he says.

  She smiles in response, but then turns her head away, hiding her excitement.

  “I know I said we needed friends, and we don’t know each other that well, but…” he trails off.

  She looks back at him, her face unreadable. Instantly, her mind has started to think about Raymond and Rocco and the marriage and being overworked, but something deeper in her, starting from the base of her spine, starts to travel upward. It is a nameless and physical thing. Perhaps at one point in time she would have called it lust, but it feels less flitting than that. Instead, it is embodiment. She feels herself coming out of her head and deep into her body, where the warmth of Erik’s presence has affected her, has made her body soft and trusting. As the feeling rises up, she leans her face towards him, and as the feeling rises further still, every thought in her mind leaves her, and instead of thinking and thinking, she presses her lips to his and feels the warmth spread in tiny explosions from the softness of his mouth to her body, shivering down her entire spine.

  He kisses back, slowly, listening to her. They pause with their lips pressed together for several moments before making the end-of-kiss pucker. She stays close to his face, catching his smile only by the way it lifts his cheekbones and eye wrinkles. He kisses back, quicker this time, again and again, her lower lip between his until, with daring, Sara parts her mouth ever so slightly and Erik parts his. She sticks her tongue between her teeth and Erik meets her there. He tastes of fresh mint and his tongue is as soft as his lips.

  She kisses fervently, pulling on his bottom lip between hers, surprising him by gently taking his juicy lip between her teeth. He smiles against her mouth and kisses her hard. Her hands find his waist and she pulls him closer, fingers finding his hips. He places a hand gently on the back of her neck, fingers brushing the base of her hair, kissing her back with just as much passion.

  The warmth that started at Sara’s spine has traveled now and feels like fireworks across her whole ribcage. She nearly gasps for breath between the kisses and finds that if her mouth isn’t pressed against his, she has to stifle an excited coo. She presses a hand to his chest, covering any surprise at the muscles beneath his shirt with a kiss to his lips. Before she realizes what exactly she’s doing, she climbs onto his lap, straddling his hips, kissing him deeper and deeper.

  They pause, foreheads pressed together as they catch their breath.

  “Let’s cool off for a second,” Erik says between breaths.

  “Oh, sorry,” Sara says, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She climbs off his lap, pressing down her jeans and sitting next to him. “I suppose I got…carried away.”

  Erik puts up a hand, still breathing heavily. “Don’t apologize. All of that…all of that was incredible. I just…I need to catch my breath is all.”

  Sara looks down at herself. What just came over me? she wonders, but the thought very clearly shouldn’t even be in past tense, because she still feels a zigzag of flutters across her stomach and a heat between her legs.

  “Will you…will you share eye contact with me for a few minutes?” Erik asks.

  Sara looks to the side for a moment, wondering if this is a peculiar question for Erik, or just for her, and then nods, repositioning her body to sit across from him. They both sit up straight, her cross-legged, him with his legs resting to the side. On one inhale, they seem to wordlessly synch their breaths, and begin to share eye contact. Sara feels an electricity to the air more pronounced than when she first met Erik, but the warmth and softness to his green eyes feels familiar. After a few moments, she feels herself relax into the staring, finding it almost commonplace, like they’d been doing this for years together. After another few moments, Sara begins to see things in his eyes, flits of wonder, looks that tell her there’s so much more beyond those concentric circles, beyond this being called Erik than she could even imagine. After another few moments, Sara senses this feeling of love come over her, not a feeling of being in love with Erik, but this feeling of care and compassion radiating from him, encompassing her being and his both.

  Sara loses a concept of time in his eyes, and wonders if it’s been thirty seconds or thirty minutes.

  Then, slowly, Erik leans in again. Their lips meet, slower this time, with less urgency. Sara feels sensual in this kiss, like it could stretch out the same way time stretched out in Erik’s eyes. Her searching hands stroke his arms slowly and then his back and a small moan escapes Erik’s lip. She swallows it graciously, kissing him in the center of the lips, then on the corner of his mouth, to the stubble on his cheeks, his jawline, down his neck, the place where his neck and shoulder meet, onward to his collar bone. With each kiss, a slight hum escapes, a buzzing that sounds like it starts deep within him and makes music in waves throughout his torso. She kisses his lips again and he responds with a quick succession of them, as if showing gratitude for all the kisses she gave him.

  “You give me goosebumps doing that,” he says between kisses.

  She smiles and kisses him even more, exploring with her tongue until he returns the favor, kissing her neck and shoulder, going down to the exposed skin on her chest. He sucks ever so slightly,
and she moans, her hands tugging at his hips again. When he comes back up to her mouth, she shows him the hair raised on her arms. Her eyes glitter with joy.

  As their kisses get deeper, still slow and sensual, they inch closer together. Their hands trace each other’s backs and slowly, drift downward. Sara touches his sides, his chest, lingers on his stomach, reaches even a little further to his beltline. Her other hand grips his thigh in pulsing squeezes, matching the kisses that have settled into a rhythmic wave.

  His hands are big enough to cover the surface of her back, but they stroke her ever so gently, by the neck at first, around her shoulder blades, down past her bra, resting on her lower back. His fingers press firmer as her breath becomes airy, and he holds her hips, placing them as if he could put a thumb through her belt loops.

  Their moans mimic each other, making a duet of hums and sensual noises. Eventually, Sara comes up to her knees, feeling this pulsing in her lower stomach, yearning for his hands, wanting him to press her closer and closer…

  With his hands on her hips, Erik guides her to sit down on his thighs. He straightens his legs, tilting his face up to meet hers, a new place from which to kiss deeply. She wraps her hands around his neck, her eyes closed tightly.

  Ecstasy, ecstasy, ecstasy… she thinks, focused only on the delightful sensations throughout her body.

  With each kiss, her hips rock slightly, turning towards him, and as his lips trace her jawline again, she weaves her fingers through his thick hair. He kisses her collarbone, brushing his lips over her chest, and she tugs his hair in delight.

  “May I?” he asks, looking up and back down at her breasts, the black of her bra barely visible from where his head rests with her on his lap.

  She nods enthusiastically. “Please, please,” she says, pulling his hair and guiding his face down into her breasts.

  He kisses each side of them, the parts visible above the bra, his hand coming up to cup one of them on the outside of her shirt. They moan together, her breasts large enough to fill out both of his fists as he kisses and sucks gently on her skin, his nose moving aside layers of fabric to kiss closer and closer to her nipple.

  For the first time, as her right breast spills out of her bra and into his hand, his lips wrapping around her nipple, she wonders if anyone can see the two lovers on the shore of the reservoir. She looks out behind her to the body of water, but the water is as still as when they arrived. She looks behind him to where the bike is parked, but the road they took to get there seems like it wasn’t even suitable as a hiking path.

  He looks at her, pausing.

  “It’s okay, Sara, this is part of my property up here,” he assures her.

  “Oh, well…carry on,” she smiles, her fingers pulling on his hair again.

  He grins devilishly and takes her nipple gently between his teeth, glancing at her before running his tongue around her aureole slowly, sensually. He gives her right breast a gentle squeeze before moving onto the left, all the while massaging his hands over her breasts in tandem with her gasps of pleasure. He kisses her sternum, putting her breasts back in the bra, and leaving a trail of kisses up her neck and to her cheek. She moans her pleasure into his ear before pulling back his hair to plant a kiss on his lips.

  “You are so good,” she murmurs.

  He kisses her quicker in response and as she leans in, she feels a bulge between his legs against her thighs. She grins, wrapping her fingers around his hip bone and resting her palm close to the hard mass under his jeans.

  “You are so sexy,” he whispers, his eyes gleaming with a hunger she knows is reflected in her own gaze.

  They kiss ferociously for a few moments, as if they can’t get enough of each other, and his fingers stroke her belly at the top of her waistline.

  “May I touch you down here?” he asks, his body coming to stillness.

  Pulses of electric sexual energy run up and down her body, screaming yes. She nods.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she says, planting a kiss on different spots of his face with each yes.

  Easefully, he undoes the button of her jeans, pulls the zipper down, and begins to run his fingers gently over her underwear. Her breath catches in between their kisses and on her next exhale, he strokes again, and again, and again. She begins to move her hips against his finger, yearning for his hand to slip under her panties. Just when she feels like she won’t be able to stand it, he pulls his hand up and slips it quickly beneath her silky underwear.

  Oh, I’m so wet, she thinks as his fingers slide easily over her.

  He draws a circle around her clitoris, so agonizingly slow, slides down to her opening and gently puts his finger in, bends a knuckle against that knee-buckling spot, and then slides out.

  “Oh god,” she moans with a shudder.

  He does it again, at exactly the same pace. She rocks her hips against him, pulling together every electrical current in her body to savor the slowness. Then, as he begins to roll around the hood of her clitoris for the third time, she feels a sudden wave of orgasm, rising as his finger enters her.

  “Oh god,” she says again, and covers her moan with a kiss on his mouth.

  She keeps her mouth open against his as he rounds her hood again, and she lets out a long, deep moan of completion. He closes her mouth with a kiss, leaving his finger resting on her opening, moving it ever so slightly to catch the shiver of overstimulation as he pulls his hand out of her underwear. He brings his finger up to his mouth, resting it on his upper lip as he takes a deep inhale, and then puts it in his mouth, slowly pulling it out while sucking in. His cheekbones look high and defined as he pulls his finger out of his mouth, licking the tip of it one last satisfied time.

  Sara melts into him, her arms crossing over his shoulders.

  “Wow,” she murmurs.

  He strokes her back with his right hand and holds her hip firmly with his left.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “Thank you,” he emphasizes.

  She finds herself drifting in his arms, her mind clear and whole body relaxed. After a moment, she sits up, her hand on his thigh, near where that bulge had been.

  “Do you…do you want me to do anything for you?” she asks.

  “Just relax for now,” he says, stroking her.

  She melts back into him, feeling grateful.

  Soon, they lean back on the blanket, the sun starting to sink over the reservoir. They start talking again, but not about loneliness. Instead, they share silly moments of their pasts, obscure likes, and passions — they talk about the beauty of the mountains and painting, of all the secret shards of moonlight they still harbor in the lake of their dreams.

  When the moon comes up, they share a deep kiss under the trees, and Erik drives Sara back to her hotel.

  The End

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