Author: Noelle Snow
A Romantic Tale
Warmth bathes the side of her face, her arms, the
backs of her legs, and she can almost see the sun, its
glow penetrating her closed eyelids. Tranquillity
washes over her, and she sighs softly, drifting in a
state of deep relaxation and pleasure.
He moves above her, balanced on forearms, knees, and
toes, shifting back and forth in slow, leisurely
movements. Her hips rest on two pillows, lifting her
toward him, and he slides in and out of her easily,
She has lost track of how long they have been here, in
the muted late afternoon sunlight, joined together on
a soft cotton blanket taken from their bed inside the
secluded cabin. Suffused with sensation, she has no
need for time.
They slept late this morning, then ate a leisurely
breakfast just before noon, feeding each other bites
of cheese omelet and blueberry muffins. Afterward,
they ventured outside to enjoy the light breeze of the
early autumn day; to admire the multicolored leaves as
they wafted down from the trees; to laugh at the geese
playing in the water of the lake.
But inevitably, their focus turned from nature to each
Embraces, kisses, caresses followed in a natural
progression, arousal building in gradual increments
rather than sharp bursts. A contrast to their joining
the night before, a fury of stunning power.
Now it is gentle rather than frenzied, and she turns
her cheek more fully toward the sun's dying rays. She
feels his shadow cross her face as he bends to touch
his lips to her brow. Her legs shift involuntarily,
parting a little further, and she braces herself on
her lower legs and tilts her hips up to meet his
He drapes himself over her more fully, taking more of
his weight on one strong forearm, and lifts his other
hand to run the tips of his fingers along her jawline
to her mouth. Her lips part, allowing him within, and
she sucks softly, tenderly, mouth and tongue working
in the same slow rhythm as his hips.
He draws his hand from her mouth and runs it down the
side of her neck, down her shoulder, along her side,
around her hip. Unerringly, with a sense of direction
she imagines was honed by years of dreams and
fantasies, he finds her center with his long fingers,
stroking lightly but with purpose.
She moans then, a primal and unencumbered sound
released without thought, only by instinct. His body
responds to her call, his movements speeding and
strengthening without his conscious consent as an
answering groan escapes his lips.
Her breath escapes in a rush at his first hard thrust,
and her head lifts from its pillow on her arms, her
eyes coming open. Brilliant light floods her vision,
and her mouth opens in shock and pleasure, her neck
arching back, her face lifting toward the sky.
The world whirls and spins around her, and her eyelids
fall shut against the sudden flood of passion that
overwhelms her senses. She presses her forearms into
the ground below her, seeking support; her fingers
tighten and release reflexively, pulling at the blades
of grass brushing along the edge of their blanket.
They do not speak as they climb toward completion,
their gasps and moans mingling in a language all their
own. Her head drops forward, hair curtaining her face,
filtering the sunlight through a haze of red-gold. His
fingers press harder, faster, pulling her inexorably
toward her release.
Her back arches as the pleasure crests, and she cries
out his name to the geese and the trees and the sun as
her body quakes beneath his. She hears the echo of her
cry as her name in his voice, and she feels his body
seize and shiver as he finds his release.
They sink to the blanket together, drained and sated,
warm and sleepy. He rolls to his side, pulling her
against his chest. She feels the light again on her
And she opens her eyes to watch the sunset.