The Day I Returned
By Jasper Hillman

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It’s been so long.  I hardly know what to expect when I open
the car door and climb the front steps.  Did I see you
peeking out the window, waiting for me, or was it just a
welcome breeze on this hot day?  There certainly doesn’t
seem to be much air movement now.

My hand trembles slightly as I reach up to the door, but
before I reach it, it suddenly swings open and there you
are, so beautiful.  Your sun dress is pale, some not-quite
white that probably has a three word name that maybe would
be interesting at some other time, but is wasted now because
I can’t stop staring into your eyes.

The smoldering look in your eyes tells me that the weeks of
frustration and temptation have affected you, too.  We seem
to be locked together, unable to move, scarcely daring to
breathe, and if the whole world collapsed at that moment, I
wouldn’t notice.  Finally, your breath comes out in sudden,
shuddering sigh and we blink and begin to laugh at
ourselves.

Following you into the house, and leaving my shoes at the
door with the little pile of yours there, I am drawn to the
little things about you.  The cadence of your walk and the
tilt of your head, things I never am fully conscious of, but
would let me spot you from blocks away.

I can barely resist reaching up and pulling you back against
me in the entrance hall, and we’ve just barely entered the
living room before I say your name in a little rush of air.

You pause and your muscles tense, but you don’t turn.  I can
see it in your calves, as if you were wearing heels.

I take a step closer.  You’re trembling so slightly, I
shouldn’t be able to tell, but I feel it in my fingertips as
I brush the hair off your neck and lean down.  Your delicate
scent reaches my nose as I lean closer.  My lips just graze
the little hollow behind your right ear and I feel you tense
even more, my breath tickling your ear and the tiny
invisible hairs on the side of your neck.

You press back against me ever so slightly, and then relax.
As you begin to turn, I hold you gently in place and
continue to caress your neck with my lips and breath.  Your
carotid artery pulses slightly and I could swear I can hear
your heart beating, but it is mine I hear.

Reaching around you, my hands cross your belly and I pull
you closer still.  My head swims with the faint perfume you
put on in the morning, but more from the smell of your skin,
dry now, but with the salty afterscent of the hot day
outside.

Our cheeks brush as you tilt your head toward me and rest it
against mine.  Content to stay there for a moment, my arms
around you, yours folded over mine to hold my hands from the
top.

Long moments later, you pull my hands away for a moment and
spin around to face me.  Your eyes barely slits as you tilt
your head up and press your lips to mine.  Closing our eyes,
we are lost in the moment.  Dry kisses followed by
increasingly fervent ones until we are gasping into each
others mouths.

We break and just stare for a moment, each of us slightly
surprised by the ardor of the other.  Suddenly, it seems
silly to be headed for the kitchen, where a cold pitcher of
iced tea waits and you reach out your hand to me and put on
that shy smile that has always driven me a little crazy.

The invitation isn’t spoken, just understood.  We reverse
course and head to the bedroom.

Once there, you push me down on the edge of the bed and sit
on my lap.  As we kiss, our hands roam freely.  Our mouths
alternate between crushing kisses and grazing lightly over
each other.

You reach down and pull up my shirt and pull it over my head
and toss it behind you.  Running your hands over my chest
and shoulders, you massage lightly, but relaxation is the
last thing on my mind and I pull you tighter against me.

As your breasts press against my chest, we both become aware
of how hot it is in the little room.  I can taste my own
saltiness on your lips as my tongue flicks over them.
Despite my desire, I don’t want to ruin your clothes with my
perspiration and relax to allow you pull back just a little.
You shake your head slightly, grin and roll your eyes at me,
remembering all the times I’ve soaked through my shirts with
just a short period of work or exercise outside in the
summer.

You suddenly stand and walk out of the room for a moment.
I’m torn between my desire to somehow prepare for your
return and my near paralysis from our kisses.  I am still
sitting exactly where you left me when you return moments
later and you laugh again, this time at the dazed
expression.

As you walk towards me, you are twisting your fingers behind
your back, a pose that makes you even more achingly
beautiful in your dress.  This time, I notice the little
violet flowers that adorn it and then blush as my eyes
finally return to your face to see you watching me watch
your body move beneath the thin material.

As you reach me, I realize that you aren’t just twisting
your fingers behind your back, but that you are carrying
something I can’t see.

You push me gently back onto my back with one hand and turn
me to lift my feet onto the bed.  Laying there in my shorts,
I know that you can see the effect you have on me, but you
don’t say anything, only motion for me to close my eyes.

I find out what that little something in your hand was
moments later as something cold touches my chest.  The ice
almost feels hot as it burns a path across from one nipple
to the other.  Then, the heat of the ice is suddenly
replaced by the heat of your mouth as you draw your tongue
along the same path, taking the ice into your mouth at the
end of it.

My eyes still closed despite the shock only because for the
moment I’ve forgotten how to open them, I gasp as the
combined sensation of hot and cold travels down my stomach
to the tops of my shorts, then back up to my neck.

Then, we are sharing it, passing it back and forth between
our mouths as we kiss.  Your dress is getting a little damp
as the water from the ice melting trickles down my side
towards you hovering over my left side.

I slide my hands from your shoulders down the dress and over
your hips to your knees and then back up in one long slow
motion that pulls the dress with them.  Up, along your
thighs, over your beautiful back, along your sides and
breasts, freeing them to sway slightly as you arch your back
up and allow me to pull it over your head.

As I hoped and dreamed, you are wearing nothing underneath;
and you shiver slightly, but not from cold.

You climb over my hips and let your breasts to brush against
my chest as we return to the kiss, but now there is a new
urgency.  As your body brushes over mine, your eyes are
hungry, locked not on my eyes, but traveling all over my
face as if you are trying to find the best part to devour.

You rise up and fumbling with my belt, your hands brush my
hardness and it’s my turn to shiver.  I help you open the
clasp, buttons and zipper to reveal that I too dressed for
the occasion.

Shimmying my shorts off, your body slides down mine until
you are on your knees at the foot of the bed just over my
feet.  With an impish grin, you wrap your fingers around me
and then looking directly into my eyes, flick your tongue
over the tip.

With an ease that belies your relative inexperience, you
draw me in and create sensations that make me lose my
connection to the rest of the world once again.  All I can
see is you, all I can feel is you.  The sensation lasts
forever and is still altogether too brief.

Before, when my lovers did this, I would want them to stop
before I got too far because I didn’t want them to think
that I was a selfish lover.  I would return the favor, or
would, at least, touch her until she achieved release prior
to allowing my own.  It was always a bargain of some sort, a
sort of quid pro quo that I didn’t question, but that kept
me from fully enjoying myself because I was always ‘keeping
score.’

With you, it’s a sharing.  I can feel your pleasure in
giving me pleasure and would be equally content to give you
pleasure without you ever touching me if it would make you
happy.  This, I know in an instant, and it frees me from
years of self-tyranny.

But, I also want to feel all of you, and so I softly pull
you up.  As you straddle my groin, I reach down to touch you
in that most sensitive of spots and discover that your
petals are already open and waiting for my touch.  After
only moments of gentle caresses, your remove my hand with
yours and reach between your legs for me.

Lifting me, you lower yourself onto me while we stare wide-
eyed and open-mouthed into each other’s faces.  Resting for
a moment from the surge of sensations, we say nothing, but
the silence speaks volumes.

As our lips meet again and I slide bit by bit further into
you, I can taste just a bit of my own musk still clinging to
your lips.  The sudden realization that the wait is finally
over causes me to thrust upward and slide all the way in.
We both moan and then rest together, savoring the sensations
of combined flesh.

As you begin to rock back and forth and up and down, my
hands slide over your hips and upper thighs, urging you in
new directions and into different paces.

Weeks of frustration and temptation, years of longing,
decades of curiosity are finally answered.  Yes, it is
wonderful.  No, we’ll never want to stop.

Afterwards, I watch the sun play on your skin.  Little dust
motes float above it, vibrating from the shiver that runs
through your body as a breeze finally finds its way through
the window and ruffles the curtains.  It’s going to be so
hard to leave again.