It was a long, hard kiss. Full of passion. Full of anticipation. Full of intensity. Full of electricity. As if they were compensating from the twenty years they have lost. For the twenty years they have longed to see each other, hug each other, kiss each other. Again. For that moment twenty years ago that was frozen forever. Or at least, until the heat of this event, twenty years after.
He started to caress her breasts ever so slowly and she doesn’t object. Instead, she pushed herself towards him gracefully, feeling his hardness underneath. For the briefest moment, they stopped and gazed into each other’s eyes. Witnessing that solid anguished memory gradually fading away.
It was as if the trapped fireflies were agreeing to their silent conversation. The flame inside the lamp swayed with the soft breeze that visited his small hut in the middle of his farm. It was as if the old round clock hanging quiescently above his bedside table was trying so hard to stall time. Just to give them this adequate moment they needed. To allow them to just have this twenty minutes together.
He pulled her closer and embraced her against his broad shoulders. He was a bit taller than her. She hugged him back, crying. They were now going towards the wall. The door is just half a meter away now. And she can just burst out knowing that all of this is a mistake. That this is wrong in its entirety even if it feels so damn right. Her back is now parallel to the wall beside the exit of his cabin. And they kissed again.
Her hesitations and frustrations have completely vanished. Amidst his touch. Amidst his hard touch. He’s doing wonders all over her body like a magnificent hymn in the night, like a breathtaking melody in the rivers of splendid happiness.
She unbuttoned his damp long sleeves. He unzips her soaked floral dress. She reveals his honed torso. He disclosed her elegant figure. She allows him to remove his underpants. He slides down the straps of her camisole. She pulled him closer and engulfed him in another long passionate kiss. All her worries evaporating into thin air. All his misconceptions dissolving into the vast waters of the ocean.
He carries her unto the wooden bed, covered only with a fine ancient fabric. He was above her yet she doesn’t feel any kind of superiority. Only an intensified want for more of him. They danced with the bittersweet rhythm of their uncontrollable desire for each other. Every touch marked with an irrevocable prolongation.
He recalls the times they used to play at her backyard. They were only nine years young. She doesn’t own any dolls. He realized she prefers playing water guns with him more than dressing a motionless toy. She remembers involving herself in a gang fight in school. And how he arrived on time and chased those bad boys away. He hugged her trying to erase the fear she felt inside. That was the first time they had an intimate contact.
As the bed sings a squeaky tune, as the fireflies continue to hover above the dying lamp, as the clock ticks every second of harmony, they were both reaching the peak of it all. She plants her hands into his back as if never wanting to let go. He grabs her hair with enough force as if he knew this will never happen again.
Inside their heads, they recall the moment they saw each other again. For the first time in a long time. Still having the same longing look. Still having that concealed smile. Looking at each other’s eyes now, they both knew it’s about time.