“See you later.”
You barely register my reply before the door swings shut. I listen to the gate wrenching open and the precisely measured pace of your footsteps on the pavement. I glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table, its quarter to seven in the morning. You’re always like this now, so disciplined, so regular.
Light is streaming in from where you’ve yanked the curtains apart. Its warm and I lie on my back watching dust motes turn golden and then fade.
In the beginning I was like an exotic adventure for you. Dark haired with full lips, we stayed awake all night clawing at each other, breathing fire into each other’s ears. You loved how I lazed around naked, your Odalisque you used to call me, used to watch me dripping honey on my breasts, massaging the sticky syrup into my nipples. You used to love the way I’d languidly stretch and writhe when we woke up half way into the day, loved how I bathed with rose petals and a thousand blazing candles. You drank my skin and could not rest until I had burst forth in peals of orgasm, shaking the bed head with the ferocity of my need for you. In the dark, swathed in tangled sheets you swore you’d worship me, forever.
And then? Perhaps you tired of me? Perhaps you longed for a return to logic and order. I think you grew weary of the mess of our explosive love, the piles of unwashed dishes, the sleepless nights, and the disruption of your perfect calendar. Now you wake at six a.m., you file things in the right places, you like the room to be ‘just so’.
I rolled out of bed and stood at the window half draped in the bed sheet, peering down at the street below. Bathed in warm light I raised my arms above my head and let the sun kiss each tiny hair on my arms, warm the curve of my armpit and roll in golden waves over my breasts. I rocked from side to side and felt shadows slice through the cream of my skin. I let the sheet fall to the floor and luxuriated in the glow. Clouds parted and the light blazed intensely. I needed this heat, this burning, I needed to feel warmed, touched and loved in a way you hadn’t wanted me in months.
The phone rang, disrupting my basking.
“Hello?” I was disgruntled by the interruption. Perhaps I sounded unfriendly. There was no response.
“Helloooo?” Another pause. And then a voice, a woman’s. Soft and viscous, like thick liquid running out of the receiver.
It was her, unmistakably her, from the life I lived before this one, from the summer that had felt endless when we lay together.
“Come back into the light.”
I had traded the heady blur of swirling sounds and the clashing colours of her love for his. Turned my back on instinct and chosen logic and my heart betrayed me just a little bit more each day.
I inhaled sharply.
“We can’t… I can’t….why are you doing this?”
“Please, step back into the light by the window.”
I stood transfixed, phone in one hand as I stared out the window into the house across the road. All the blinds were drawn except one.
That silky voice again. “Please, you are so beautiful.”
I tumbled mechanically as though propelled towards the edge of the pool of light, phone still cradled next to my ear. After all this time, she could still pluck at strings long buried inside me.
Again, that whisper that tore the veil I had drawn around me. I trembled as I remembered how she could cut to the core of me. Her sigh made my pussy ripple. Was this really happening?
“Closer, just a little closer.”
She enticed me forward with a voice that had the power to make buds blaze and bloom. I crept forward, still holding the phone, looking into the window in the house across the street.
“I wish I could be like the sun light, to steal into your room silently, to gild your flesh, to seep into every pore of you.”
“How did you find me?”
“I’ve watched you like this forever. Seen all four season’s worth of sunsets painting you as you walk naked to bed. I’ve watched as you emerged like high tide in the morning, your beauty washing out in waves that broke over me. I’ve watched you, and with my mind I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Her words rushed into my ears like wine, intoxicating me. I stood, trapped in her web, disintegrating save for where my ear was affixed to the phone. I asked her why, or maybe I thought I did, my mouth made sounds and my eyes strained to see but the only sense that mattered was hearing, hearing her say those words I had ached for.
“If I was there with you now, I’d touch you like I know you need to be touched.”
My throat cracked, my voice registering only a dull whisper. She had taken away my power to speak. I was paralysed as my heart rushed up into my head.
“I know what you crave and how he doesn’t worship you any more. I know he doesn’t lavish his tongue on your body and how he leaves you lying in the dark, need still burning between your legs, how you feel like an animal, raging and on heat. I’ve seen you pacing, caged and feral while he sleeps, he sleeps and forgets.”
I stepped closer to the window and pressed my hand against the hot glass. I said nothing but knew my life clung to the threads of her velvet words, that the real me, the one buried deep inside that had lived those nights we had burned together, was listening and stirring. I felt light headed, faint. I couldn’t speak or turn away, I was ensnared in the ribbon of words flowing out of the phone. Words I had longed to hear, love I had forgotten how to feel.
“I would make you my queen, make my duty to serve you, to explore your dark wet places, to taste the real you, to ravish you and exalt you. I would honour you as he does not, he that has forgotten the goddess within you.”
I was hypnotised by her voice, the curling of her tongue around consonants, the smooth slide over her vowels. As she exhaled a thousand tiny barbs swept into my ear, hooking into my tender flesh.
“I would kiss your lush full lips, my tongue would dart into the warmth of your mouth and we would melt into each other. Your cheek, the nape of your neck, the curve of your throat, all of these places I would taste and savour, delicately. You would ache for me to kiss your breasts, to suck your nipples, to gently nibble on them, to take small bites of your curves and undulations. I would lick you as you wished for it, never straying from your word. Your hand would tangle in my hair as you guided me with your need. My mouth would traverse the swell of your belly, my nose would sink into your navel as I bit harder into your sweet flesh. Your hands would guide me lower, but I would not need the heeding. I would inhale you, drink you and feel you burning my palm as I cupped you there in my hand.
My head would slide to the source of your wetness, to the flower unfurling between your legs, the tight pink bud hidden for too many long nights as you lay restless and untouched. My lips would find their way to your soft pink folds and I would sample each one, tenderly and in no rush. My mouth would hum as you throbbed against me. After an eternity I would finally lower the tip of my tongue onto your clit as my hand rolled back the hood that protects you, shields you.
I would smooth your petals back as I licked your clit and tasted the current of the tide inside you. I would work my mouth with your rhythms, let my tongue and fingers slide further into you, inside your pussy as you rocked back and forth, transported by the sensation of it to the realms of pleasure we explored together, all those years ago. You would be arched across the bed, a butterfly spiked on a long silver pin as I dipped my tongue into you, again and again.
You would clutch at me desperately, urging me to go on. I would not let go of you until I had laid waste to your body, until you were devoured and my longing for the taste of you was sated. Until you came in rushes and screams, until you exploded and lay trembling, then slowed to stillness, sleeping without dreams, save for ragged snatches of fevered visions of you and me in entwined as one.
You would wake once again, renewed.”
(The line is disconnected).