"Paradise"

            by Katherine English

                                 …………………..

To Amante…my own private Paradise…

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Papeete, Tahiti

My hand seeks the comfort of your thigh, so

strong and solid as the rumble of the engine

fills my senses.  You smile, but your eyes show

concern as you tuck me beneath your chin, your

warm breath filtering through my hair.

"We don't have to go, you know.  I don't want to

put you through this..."

"I know," I whisper, my voice a trembling hush

against your throat, "...but I want to.  I'm just

being silly.  It's just a plane ride...nothing to

it!" 

I smile, my hand tightening imperceptibly as the

small seaplane, a Twin Lakes amphibian, leaves

its mooring along the dock in Papeete, our tanned

and smiling pilot at the stick.  I shouldn't be

anxious...I know that...and the thought of a

whole weekend alone with you on an uninhabited

island paradise more than compensates for a few

moments of preflight jitters.

But still my nervousness refuses to abate.

Silently you enfold me in your arms as the small

plane taxis out into the harbor, my heart beating

rapidly against your chest, my body pressed

tightly to yours as though to draw from you the

strength that I need.  The engine growls louder

and louder as we skim the calm waters of the

lagoon...and then we break free from the

surface...the blue Pacific falling below us...our

trajectory pointed somewhere into the blazing

tropical sun.

I breathe a sigh of relief...airborne at last.

My grip on your thigh lessens...my smile warms.

This weekend is going to be perfect, something

we've wanted forever, just you and I...the world

and its concerns far behind...forgotten.  Life is

good...and life with you is more than anyone has

any right to ask.

My fears fading into the cloudless sky, I glance

out of the small window to my left and watch the

palms below us grow smaller and smaller as the

flurry of Tahiti dwindles into the background.

The calm blue of the lagoon gives way to the

deeper turquoise of the sea...crystal

clear...unspoiled...its currents swirling through

our minds, washing away the remnants of the

complicated world we've left behind.

I turn my head, glancing over at you sitting

beside me, your rugged jaw line adorned by the

rough fur of the beard that I love so much.  The

thought of it...against my soft flesh, causes a

flush to rise along my cheeks.  How well I know

that feel...how totally it consumes me.

As though controlled by a mind of their own, my

fingers trace the gentle contours of your cheek,

my nipples hardening. This will be a time to

remember...a time to fall back upon and recall in

the hustle and bustle of the everyday world...a

time for us alone. 

My eyes search the shoals and eddies of the sea

below, watching the small, unnamed atolls come

and go beneath our wings.  Will our island be the

same, I wonder...a tiny uninhabited dot that man

overlooked in the great swirl of the Pacific?

Somehow, with the pristine certainty that carries

my unquestioning love for you...I know the

answer.

It doesn't matter.

As long as you're there...I'll love it.

We continue southward for another hour, the drone

of the engine a low counterpoint to the

excitement that rises in my breast.  Somewhere

down there is our destination...small and

green...a tiny volcanic dot, created and then

forgotten in the warm, shifting sea.  But this

weekend it will play host to two

lovers...escapees from the real world far away.

This weekend it will be all ours, and ours

alone...to do as we will.

Our small aircraft begins to lose altitude, it's

wings dipping minutely as we take aim on a tiny

bit of green to the west.  I watch, my heart once

more taking up its frantic rhythm as the atoll

looms larger and larger in the starboard window.

Our target, the small, sheltered lagoon below,

seems too small for such a landing...too

inadequate to sustain such a violent intrusion of

men and machinery.  I turn to you...the panic

evident in my posture, the set of my mouth, but

see only the calm placidity of your blue and

untroubled eyes.

Calmly, your finger dips beneath my chin, turning

me towards you, blocking the view below as you

press your lips to mine.  My response is hesitant

at first...tentative...but as I feel your tongue

slide past my lips to claim the warm, dark depths

beyond, I relax.  My blood begins to stir once

again, but for an entirely different reason this

time.  Your hand, so civilized...so controlled

until now, slides beneath my blouse, seeking the

turgid nipple of my left breast.  I lean back

against my seat...your touch all that I

feel...all that I want to feel.

"Ummm...Folks...we're here," the pilot says,

averting his eyes from the intimate scene in the

back seat.  "If you'll just make yourselves at

home, my copilot and I will unload all of your

supplies and be on our way...and you'll have the

place all to yourselves."

I flush.  We've landed...the flight is over...so

quickly, but still my pulse races uncontrollably.

 "All to ourselves," the pilot said.  Does he

know how good that sounds...could he?

My nipple, still hard and hungry, brushes against

the thin cotton of my blouse as you drop into the

knee-deep water below, then reach upward to lift

me down from the tiny seaplane.  My body slides

intimately against yours...a promise?

I glance at our surroundings...so much better

than the brochure offered.  Before me lies the

white, sugary sand of a perfect beach...smooth

and undisturbed by the passing of man...caressed

by the gentle palm fronds that surround it like a

flowered lei on the untried breast of a virgin.

The flurry of the sea beyond does not intrude

here...not here within the protection of the

white coral reef that encircles our lagoon.

Here, all is at peace, in sync with the island

that claims it, enfolds it like a lover within a

timeless embrace.

I feel your arm circle my waist...my reef...my

protection?  We'll be happy here...of this I'm

certain.  This place was a good choice...it calls

to me even now with an appeal that cannot be

denied.

Your arm tightens, and I lean my head back

against your chest...your body so warm, so

inviting.  Soon all of this will be ours

alone...our only link with the outside world

gone.  I feel a momentary panic.  We have no

means of contact, of communication with

"civilization".  Even your cell phone has been

left behind.  What if...?

Again I feel your arm around me, your strength

seeping through the thin cotton of my blouse, and

I know that I have nothing to fear.  Nothing can

harm us here...not here.  For the next 48 hours

we will be as carefree as children, as abandoned

as the wind and tide of our island getaway.  No

cares...no problems...no worries.

Once more, for the last time, our pilot intrudes

into the moment.

"Ah, folks?  I just wanted to let you know that

we're leaving now.  Everything you'll need is

waiting up in the cottage.  The provisions are

all cooked, and the dry ice should keep

everything cold until Sunday.  The only thing

that you'll need to light a fire under are the

t-bones if you want 'em...and they're all

marinated and ready for the grill.  Also...see

that stream over there?  The water's good...very

good...and if you want something to do... (he

suppresses a smile), you can follow it up the

mountainside to the source.  I hear there's a hot

spring up there, with a spectacular view."

Our eyes travel in the direction of the aged and

sleeping volcano that has formed this place.

Maybe we'll give it a try...maybe not.

"Y'all have a great time, now," our pilot adds as

he edges toward his conveyance.  "I'll be back on

Sunday afternoon, two days from now.  "I'll see

ya then."

Then, with a nod, he boards his waiting plane,

revs the engine, and taxis across the lagoon.  We

watch as he vanishes into the northern sky,

growing smaller and smaller with each second,

until finally he vanishes from view entirely, and

we are truly alone at last.

Evening is fast approaching our tiny hideaway,

and the palms begin to throw long shadows across

the beach.  Quickly, we climb the dune toward the

cottage in the trees to acquaint ourselves with

our surroundings and prepare for the darkness to

come.

Everything is just as we were told.  The bedroom

is airy and fragrant with the smell of

frangipani...a light net surrounding the large

king sized bed resting on a bamboo dais in the

center of the room, like some sacrificial altar

upon which our virginity will be tested.  The

floor is covered with mats of woven grass, and

all about we find scented oil lamps casting a

warm and comforting glow throughout the room.

"Are you hungry?" I whisper, my hand stroking

your hip.  "Shall I see what out 'picnic baskets'

have to offer?"

You smile as you strip down to your bronzed

skin...your clothing left in a heap in the middle

of the room.  "I want to take a dip before it

gets dark first.  Why don't we have supper on the

beach?  I'll get a bonfire going.  How does that

sound?"

I nod...it sounds wonderful.  Curiously I make my

way toward the "kitchen" to see what's been left

for us to sup upon.  My eyes widen.  No bologna

sandwiches here!  A gourmet feast fills the

shelves and pantries...enough food to keep the

Royal Family happy for a month, and all of it

fully prepared and waiting for our approval.

Quickly I gather the provisions that are to make

up our repast, then slip into my new bikini and

head for the beach.  Already I see the bonfire

glowing in the distance...leading me

onward...leading me to you.

A fiery sunset engulfs our new home...filling the

lagoon with the flames of a day gone by...and

then darkness.  Already, in the clear, unpolluted

sky, the first stars of night have begun to

welcome us to this place.  Quietly you take my

burdens from my arms, and begin to spread a

blanket atop the shifting sand.  Then, wet and

salty from the sea, you drop to your side and

allow your eyes to caress my willing form.

Conscious of your gaze, I cross the sand and

place a fondue pot of clarified butter to warm

among the rocks.  "That should be ready in a few

minutes," I smile.  "You should see all the

goodies they've left for us!"

I return to your side, the pot warming as I

spread the "table".  Chilled lobster tails; Greek

salad redolent with fresh feta, Kalamata olives

and extra virgin olive oil; ripe papaya; warm

brie and fresh crusty bread begin to fill the

bare expanse before you.  Large, salt-rimmed

glasses appear, ready to be filled by the

generous pitcher of Margaritas that lies between

my thighs.  We'll eat well tonight...very well

indeed.

Slowly, we munch our repast...savoring each

morsel until we've had our fill, until another

hunger begins to grow in your eyes.  I know that

look.  It's one of my favorites.  I quiver.  This

place...this scene has eroded my reticence... my

conservatism.  I feel a sense of abandonment that

I've never felt before.

I feel the warm press of your flesh against

me...the crude silkiness of your body hair as you

slide your skin over mine, your hands stroking

the blue wisps of my bikini beneath your palms,

your knee insinuating itself between my own.

Your tongue thrusts deeply between my lips,

eliciting a soft moan that penetrates the

stillness.

"No," I whisper.  "Lay back...I want to..."

Your eyes widen...puzzled...amused.  This isn't

like me, not at all.  Curious, you fondle my

breast one last time, watching with satisfaction

as my nipple rises like a hardened pebble against

the fabric. Then, with a sigh, you lay back

against the blanket.

I hesitate...is this what I want?  Is it what you

want?  Am I opening a door that should remain

closed?

I tilt my head back, feeling the soft swirl of my

hair against my naked back, then gather my

courage.  Yes.  This is what I want...and from

the look in your eyes, you want it too.

Softly, I kneel between your thighs, gazing at

the play of the bonfire against your

hair-roughened skin.  I smile at the

tumescence...already hard and burgeoning between

your thighs.  You're ready for this...ready for

me.

Slowly, I dip my fingers beneath the waistband of

your trunks, and begin to peel them down the

length of your thighs...down to your calves...and

off into the sand at your feet.

You shiver.  Anticipation?

Then, straddling your hips, I ask:  "Have you

ever tried 'body slamming'?"

Your look...puzzled...says that you haven't, that

this is something alien and unusual to you.  I

stroke your chest with my fingertips.  Good.

This will be a learning experience for both of

us.

"There are three parts to this ritual," I

continue.  "Lick...slam...and suck."

The words...so crude coming from my lips,

surprise you.

"Sarah, are you sure about this?" you murmur

through a passionate haze.  "This doesn't sound

like you at all."

"Jim, Amante" I reply, using my pet name for

you, "Tonight I'm not me.  I'm someone else...a

part of this place...something wild and

abandoned.  Lay back...lay back...let me..."

Once more you acquiesce to my whim and recline on

the blanket.

"First...I lick"

 You watch as I raise my margarita glass and skim

a thin layer of salt from the rim, your gaze dark

and uncertain

I lower my finger to your right nipple, and you

feel the rough grains abrade your tender flesh.

You harden beneath my caress, your hand lowering

to cup my own.

"No...don't touch." I smile.  "I may have to do

something about that."

Slowly, watching your eyes grow heavy-lidded, I

reach behind my back and undo the thin straps

that bind my bikini bra to me, my breasts

blossoming forward in grateful release.

Again you reach out, your hands seeking the

welcoming touch of my flesh...but it is not to

be.  Gently, I wrap my discarded garment around

your wrists...a passionate restraint...and raise

your arms above your head.

"Leave them there." I command, my voice a bond in

itself, my nipples grazing your parted lips.  I

close my eyes...my plan fleeing as you suck first

one and then the other into the warm, erotic

depths of your mouth.  But no...I have a

mission...something special.  I am not to be

deterred.

I lower myself once more, and apply a second

coating of salt to your left nipple, my finger

lingering to tease...to tantalize.  Then, my body

positioned above yours, I rise and slide the

remaining thong from my quivering flesh,

stripping away the last vestige of civilization.

You're hard now...so hard...but release is yet a

long way off.  Once more I straddle your hips, my

wetness replacing your damp swimsuit which now

lies at our feet.  But I'm not ready yet...not

quite.

Slowly I remove a linen napkin from the picnic

basket, and tie it gently around your questing

eyes.  A blindfold.  The last preparation...and

now I begin.

Your rigid shaft prods persistently against my

belly, and I reach between our bodies to run my

fingers along its length.  "Not yet," I whisper,

feeling you strain against my touch.  "Not yet."

In a moment of weakness, I stroke the tip between

my wet folds...pressing its silken firmness

against my yearning core...between my trembling

lips...but then I stop.  "Not yet," I

repeat...and so we wait...we wait.

Once more I lay my smooth, warm body against you,

my tongue trailing downward from the hollows of

your throat to the salt-encrusted tip of your

nipple.

My mouth opens...my tongue extends.  "Lick," I

murmur against your skin as you feel the warm,

moist stroke gently sliding across your waiting

flesh.  I feel you harden... "pebble" beneath me,

and I smile.  I have you now.  Just try and think

of something else tonight...I dare you.

Now I turn my attentions toward your other

nipple.

Gently I begin to suck, laving the salt from your

body...feeling it dissolve on my tongue as I

tease your tiny male "bud" to a perfect erection.

 I purse my lips and blow softly against your

glistening skin...listening to you murmur the

sounds I long to hear.

I lean to the side and grasp my margarita glass

by the stem, passing it beneath your nose.  A

hint of tequila fills your senses just before you

feel the chill, wet drops fill the depression of

your navel.  You suck in your breath as the cold

liquid drizzles down your quivering sides.

"Don't move," I whisper, "or I'll have to add

more."

You freeze...your skin rippling, your tongue

tracing the outline of your lips.

"Thirsty?" I murmur, dipping my finger into the

quivering pool, then running my wet nail along

your lower lip.  "Well, that's all you get...for

the moment anyway."

Teasingly, I circle the aromatic puddle with my

tongue, then, in one fell swoop I inhale its

contents, swallowing lustily.

"Slam," I whisper.  The second of your torments

slick against my lips.

You lower your hands...straining to reach me...to

touch my warm and waiting body, but I pin them

once more to the sand above your head.

"Stay." I command...and you obey.  What else can

you do?  This is my game...your time will come...

but not now.

Slowly, I reach once more toward the tray that

lies unheeded to your right.  You feel me

wriggle...shift against you...sliding this time

between your thighs.  The smell of fresh-cut lime

assails your nostrils, and the next "act" becomes

clear.

Smiling once more, a secret smile that remains

hidden from your shuttered gaze, I raise my fist

above your straining erection and squeeze the

small green morsel until a thin stream of

aromatic liquid begins to drizzle down the length

of your silken hardness.

You feel the warmth of my breath on your delicate

flesh.  "Suck." I whisper huskily as my lips

begin to caress your shivering tumescence.  Your

hips thrust against me...your hands struggling

against their bonds.  This is too much...too

much!

I hear a tear...muted against the sound of your

growing orchestrations...a tiny rasp, and my

bikini top has become fodder for the ragbag.  I

feel your fingers twine franticly in my

hair...drawing me closer...holding me as I feast

upon your rigid offering. 

You whip off your blindfold, the sight of me

toiling between your outstretched limbs orgasmic

in itself as you slide deeper and deeper into the

warm, wet vacuum of my lips.

I open my throat, encompassing you completely,

taking you far down into the murmuring reaches of

my body.  My tongue begins to work against your

writhing member... taking you to the edge...to

the very...

"Stop."

Your command freezes me in my "tracks", and I

must obey.  I raise my head...my lips glistening

already with the minute drops that have escaped

the impending flood...vanguards sacrificed to the

cause.

You reach below, your hands encircling my hips as

you draw my naked body forward...poised just

above your engorged sex...your body nudging the

wet, open petals of my sensuous core.  I lower my

hands, tucking you gently where we both want you

to be.  You arch your back, thrusting your

prominence eagerly into my waiting depths.

I shiver as I feel you move within me, filling me

with your heat...your full, swollen member.  I

close my eyes, isolating the sensation, my focus

on you and the mystery that fills my soul...my

body responding to your rhythm...your pulse.  I

feel you stiffen, your respiration quickening,

becoming ragged as your control fades and your

thrusts become more frantic.

My soft moans change in the stillness that

surrounds us, my flesh quivering as my cry of

completion rends the pristine night sky. So

much...so much!

A strangled exclamation...not mine...and your

essence floods my body, cascading like molten

lava from my heated core down my quivering

thighs.  I collapse against you...undone, my

reserve lost and forgotten.  My cheek softly

brushes the warm planes of your chest.  This

place has taken my heart...my soul, and given

them to you...and for that, I'll be eternally

grateful.

Silently, you rise, lifting my sated remains in

your arms and carrying me to our warm and welcome

bed in the green embrace of our cottage refuge.

The night is young...and the possibilities are

endless.

..............................

Morning dawns, creeping silently into our window

on tiptoe as we lay warm and secure in each

other's arms.  My eyelids flutter, and the

realization of where we are fills my mind.

The thought of sunrise over the calm and peaceful

waters of the South Pacific draws me to the

window, helpless to resist.  The vision of clear,

salty water sliding over my body...refreshing me,

awakening me fills my mind.  I hesitate.  I

should wake you...shouldn't I...shouldn't I?  And

the then memory of our night together kisses the

backs of my eyelids.  I blush.  No...you need

rest...lots of rest.  Today is another day in

Paradise...you may need it.

Quickly I gather my bikini bottoms from the

floor, rescued at the last moment from the tide

that swept away the remains of our bonfire.  I

step outside, feeling the brief scrap of fabric

attempt to appease my modesty.  The bra will have

to be forgone, a victim of last night's

dessert...but I'll adjust, and easily.

Grabbing a tube of sunblock I head for the beach,

the warm waters of our lagoon whispering

seductively in my ear.  It's so beautiful

here...so peaceful. 

I watch as the minnows scatter before my

glistening thighs, fleeing in panic from my

massive invasion.  I look up, scanning the

surface of the water for a suitable

destination...and then I see it.  A large, flat

slab of pink granite...something that has no

earthly place here, in a lagoon in the South

Pacific...but there it is, sitting in the center

of our sheltered pool, dropped here by the hand

of God, smoothed by the hand of the sea.

Tucking my tube of sunblock into my swimsuit, I

dive into the warm, welcome arms of the lagoon

and thrust my body through the still depths with

long, hard strokes of my limbs.

In no time I've reached my goal, the sun-warmed

epicenter of out new

world...glistening...inviting...serene. 

I pause, scanning the beach for any sign that you

have awakened... but no.  Your sleep, when you

finally allowed yourself the repose you had so

completely earned, was deep and sonorous.  I

should let you rest.  We have plans

today...you'll need your strength.

I smile as I pull myself atop my granite dais,

recalling the passion-filled night that has just

passed.  You were ardent, insatiable, your body

giving and receiving pleasure until long after

this island Paradise of ours had lost its hold on

wakefulness.  I flush...my body tingles yet.

Your touch will remain with me for as long as the

sea caresses the shore and beyond.  We've reached

new depths, you and I...grown closer...more

intimate...more inextricably entwined.  It feels

good.

Gratefully, I lean back and feel the warmth of my

stony bed warm my wet and chilled flesh, my toes

dabbling childlike in the water below.  I close

my eyes against the glare of the tropical sun,

and slip the tube of sunblock out of my bikini

bottoms.  Deftly, I unscrew the cap and fill my

palm with the fragrant ointment, smoothing it

sensuously over my breasts and abdomen, feeling

the slippery comfort seep into my pores, teasing

my flesh.

I gasp!

Something's grabbed my feet, dangling so

vulnerably in the shallow water below!  I start,

rising on my elbows, shading my eyes from the

sun.

"Hold still," you direct, "lay back."

I feel a tingle rise from my toes, my nipples

cresting at the very sound of your voice...and I

obey.

You stand, hip deep in the morning tide, your

hands possessively grasping my ankles, your voice

silent, yet holding me fast.  A quick jerk, and I

feel myself sliding forward, your body invading

the space between my legs, my hair streaming out

behind me across the wet, granite expanse I've

left behind.  I feel your hands sliding upward,

circling my knees.  Another jerk, and my buttocks

teeter on the very edge, your wet thighs pressed

against my intimate core.

You slip your fingers beneath the strings, tied

so securely across my hips, and I feel a brief

tug...a snap...and my bikini joins the

anemonefish.

Silently, you lean forward, your naked and

burgeoning sex grazing my own, your hands sliding

hungrily over my oily breasts.  Again I try to

rise...to press my lips to yours, but once more

you deny me the access that I so desire.

Your hand presses me downward, prone against my

stony platform, your body retreats...lips

trailing until your moist breath fills the space

between my quivering thighs.  A kiss...a lick,

and then I feel you reposition my feet until my

heels are tucked beneath my buttocks, my knees

pointed skyward.  Your hands caress the pale

lining of my inner thighs.  Then, parting them

like the wings of a butterfly, you concentrate

your attention on my dewy curls, inserting your

thumbs to open my most intimate core to your

gaze.

Softly, I moan, a slow flush suffusing my pale

skin. I feel so exposed, so sensually

invaded...so liquid beneath your intimate

inspection.

You pin my thighs both to the right and to the

left beneath your forearms, your head dipping,

tongue extending until I begin to feel the first

maddening assault of your lips within my intimate

sanctuary.  I shiver as your tongue teases the

hardening nub of my

sex...flicking...caressing...calling forth the

wet expression of my rising desire. 

I whimper.

Maddeningly, I twine my fingers into your curling

locks, my fingers trembling.  I feel the tortuous

rasp of your lips as they abrade my tender

flesh... pushing me to the very limits of my

endurance.  My pulse quickens...a primal cry

rises in my throat, rending the calm tranquility

of our surroundings.

Quickly you plunge your hardened member within

me, pushing me over the edge...driving me to the

brink of insanity.  Your hands pinion my hips,

holding me fast, your breath coming now in ragged

gasps.  I feel you shudder deep inside of me,

your body thrusting beyond control...beyond the

civilized veneer that you maintain so carefully.

The hot gush of your seed fills me, inundates me,

and I feel myself once more crying out your name

amid the eternal tide.

You thrust again, your strong arms gathering me

against you, your teeth pressed against the

hollows of my throat as you moan something

primal, guttural against my flesh...and then we

collapse, side by side atop the granite stage of

our passionate play...sated in each other's arms.

The warm water of the lagoon swirls about

us...time passes.  Once again we are earthbound,

the shifting sand beneath our feet.  Finally,

knowing that time is fleeting we gather a basket

of goodies and make our way up the mountainside

toward the hot spring that was so alluringly

promised on our arrival.

The stream, so wide at its delta, now narrows,

grows warm, then steaming as we ascend the

foothills.  A velvet green moss begins to form on

the surface of the rocks below, undisturbed in

the pristine fullness of the Eden that surrounds

them.  The foliage begins to change, the

landscape deepening to disguise the volcanic

upheaval that was creation....peace amid the

aftermath of violence.

Finally, we break free of the dense kauri and red

cedar, the orchids and frangipani, into a

clearing filled with the mists of a thousand

years.  We've arrived.

Donned only in my delicate native pareau, tied

securely about my waist in floral abandon, I

spread our blanket and settle beside the picnic

basket to catch my breath.  It's beautiful

here...unspoiled...mystical.  Wild parrots squawk

furiously at our unwelcome intrusion, and giant

ferns bend low to the ground as though listening

to our every word.  We can only visit here...it

isn't ours...just a loan from Pele, the god of

the volcano, but we accept gratefully.

A waterfall cascades carelessly from the cliffs

high above, filling the pool before us with the

fragrant heat of the island's glowing heart.  It

calls to us...lures us with its  warm seduction

until we can resist no longer.  Finally, giving

in to its siren song, I unknot the pareau from my

hips, dropping it to the mossy ground at my feet,

and dive headlong into its warm and soothing

depths.

You pause...watching...preserving the vision

behind half-closed lids, then slip from your

clothing as well, joining me in this misty

tapestry.  The sound of the falls whispers in my

ears, rumbling deep inside of me as I watch you

cleave the water with strong, powerful strokes,

your body parting the ripples in its passing.

The warm, bubbling water swirls against my heated

flesh...between my thighs... pantomiming a

lover's caress.

I stand, the water cascading over my shoulders,

my breasts...flowing gently over the places that

cry out for your touch.  And then you're

there...your body against mine...your hands

seeking...finding...

Softly, I moan, but the sound is lost in the

muted din of the swirling confluence that

envelops us.  I feel your arms about me, lifting

me, carrying me through the flowing, liquid

curtain to the echoing chamber beyond...a place

apart, warm and womb-like in its seductive

embrace.

We've reversed the progress of time, you and I.

We've escaped to a world that existed before we

were told what was right or wrong...what was

expected...accepted.  The only law, the one that

binds us...the only truth, that which we find in

each other.

In the dim resonance that surrounds us, I drift

against the hard, lean strength of you, making of

you a willing prisoner...captured in my embrace

between my unrelenting thighs...burying you deep

inside of me.  You gasp at the depth of my

hunger...my need...as my legs twine around your

hips, undulating in a graceful ballet for our

eyes alone.

I release my grip on your neck, my upper body

floating free, my hair drifting around me like

something angelic.  I feel your hands on my hips,

drawing me against you like a rhythmic wave,

keeping me from drifting into oblivion.  Your

hand...your fingers explore the delicate hub of

my being, and the world begins to spin out of

control.

Once more you draw me upright, close against your

hard, thrusting body as you press me against the

mossy wall of our chamber...all civilized

pretense lost in the primitive rumble that fills

us.  My cries echo repeatedly amid the

vibration...so invasive...so intimate.  This is

how it was meant to be I think as I feel the last

of my reserve shatter...this is how my mind will

preserve it for all eternity.

I feel your lips against my throat, your low

moans rife with abandon as you plunge your body

into mine one last time, your liquid essence

filling me in a way that no fantasy ever could.

Your lips cover mine, stealing my very

breath...your eyes repeating the vows your body

began.

I melt against you...around you...my senses

adrift in the swirling mist that engulfs us.

Being here is all that matters, I think as I feel

you carry me to the shore once again.  No, not

being here, being with you...anywhere.

We spend the rest of the afternoon filling our

hours with lunch, love and the fullness of life.

Dark Beck's beer, roast beef and baby Swiss on

Kaiser rolls, red skin potato salad, fresh mango

and a Black Forest Torte vanish in short order.

We talk...we laugh...we love, but all too soon

it's time to go.

Slowly, we retrace our steps along the stream

until the beach is once more in sight.  Is it

possible that we'll be in Papeete once again at

this time tomorrow?  It can't be...it can't...

Dim, unspoken thoughts haunt our last night

beneath the clear, twinkling lights of heaven.

We've found so much here...so much.  So many

promises, lost in the shuffle of the world we

live in have been found in this place, preserved,

awaiting our presence.  Will they all be left

behind when we go...abandoned...beyond our reach

when we need them the most?

We watch in silence as the universe revolves

around us...the hushed whisper of the island

lulling us once more into its passionate embrace.

 We won't think of these things again this

night...not this one.  These haunts are for other

times...other people.  We won't waste the last of

our precious moments pondering the plight of the

world beyond.  For us there is only here... and

now.

Again and again we fill the night with our song

until the stars have long since flown, giving way

to another brilliant sunrise far across the

shifting sea.  Curled beneath the coverlet I feel

you close behind me, your body warming the

stillness between us, your arms wrapped

protectively about my waist.  I bask in the solid

comfort of your voice whispering in my ear.

"How do I love thee..." you begin, Elizabeth

Barrett Browning's immortal "Songs of the

Portuguese" filling the silence...so familiar and

yet so precious.

I close my eyes as the words drift gently through

my mind...warm memories of our first Christmas

together.  My lips part, willing the response I

find so hard to give...the words I long to

say...but once more I feel them die unborn, a

victim of the silence that overshadows my being.

I struggle...the need to "touch" you filling my

very essence, and yet the mute isolation

persists.

Someday...someday...

I turn to you, your gentle hands telling me that

once again you understand, yet the tortured

stillness continues.  Why did God give me these

feelings...this overwhelming love...then strike

me dumb?  The irony cries out in me once more.

"How do I love thee...how do I love thee..."?

I fill the void with an act of

tenderness...love...my sighs a pale substitute

for the words that refuse to meet the light of

day.  We join, intimate and inseparable, two

halves forming a perfect whole...a union both

unique and timeless.  The message is there...so

near...so near...

We fill our last morning in Paradise

giving...taking... sharing the beauty that lies

between us, feeling the seconds tick away.

Finally, passions quieted, we collect our

physical baggage for the reluctant trip home.

Our small seaplane will be arriving soon...Eden

lost once again.

We stand on the lanai, watching the tiny dot on

the horizon grow larger as the moments pass. The

amphibian nears.  Our respite here is almost

over...our time of carefree innocence fading with

the light of day.

"Do you know how much I love you?" you murmur

softly, your voice a swirling caress deep inside

of me, embracing places that no physical contact

could ever reach.

I feel your arms enfold me, your body warm

against my back, and the longing rises in me once

more to whisper the words that seem to elude me,

the confessions of love and truth that fill me

each time I feel your hand in mine.

And then, like a miracle the heavens align, the

words forming upon my lips as though they'd

always been there waiting for this moment.

In a gentle torrent they begin to flow.  "Did you

know that sometimes I lay there at night just

watching you sleep?" I ask, my voice soft with

the rightness of what I'm finally able to say.

"I reach out my hand, touch your shoulder and

think...if I could compose the last minute of my

life...I wouldn't change a thing."

I feel your lips graze my neck, trembling in a

way that I've never felt before...but I can't

stop now...not now...I must continue while the

gods are smiling.  "You're my first thought in

the morning...my last thought at night.  You're

the answer to every prayer I've ever said...every

wish I've ever had.  Whenever I feel lost, all I

have to do is look into your eyes, and I'm home

again.  My life began the day I met you."

It's your voice now that lies dormant within,

lost in a maze of emotions that no words could

express.  I turn in your arms, my body cradled in

your tender embrace, the gentle beat of your

heart telling me all that I need to hear.

Silently, we stand on the lanai, watching the

plane approach until the last minute fades away

and our time to leave can be delayed no longer.

With quiet efficiency, the pilot loads our

baggage for the return home, smiling silently at

the way you hold my hand...my heart.

The engines roar, and once again we find

ourselves airborne.  "Hard to leave Paradise,

isn't it?" he comments as we break free of the

calm waters of the lagoon and head northward

toward Tahiti once more.

But he doesn't know...he couldn't.  Paradise

isn't a stretch of sand...not a place you visit.

It's something you carry inside ...something pure

and sheltered from the world beyond.

...and, if you're one of the very fortunate...

something that you share.

I reach out and touch your hand, knowing that I'm

not leaving Paradise behind.  It's right here at

my fingertips.

                                  The End

__________________________________________________