Kiss Me Hard; Damn You!

"I am not sure why, not even how, but I know that I want, and must, have her be mine one more time before we part, who knows for how long.
One more time, I want to feel every pore of her ginger skin give unto me, as it was destined to be since God-forsaken times. I want every fiber in her body to bend to my pleasure, every drop of her sensual sweat to dance to my rhythm, and every little piece of her soul to be in adoration of our love. I want to weigh hard over her fragile body, I want to be her man one more time. I want to possess her being again, I want to hold her, and stroke her velvety hair, I want to kiss her large eyes, and caress her way into an explosion of pleasure we have felt together so many times.

That is why, like never, I am knocking on her door, waiting for her answer.

I have the physical strength, thanks to my deep desire, and this shall be my goodbye."

Rose had just woken up that afternoon, and was smoking one of her long cigarettes, in the most urbanly boheme way possible out on the balcony of her apartment. She left the wind blow through her silk negligee, and smelt her coffee before every sip.

It was a calm knock on the door, loud enough to get to her, that stopped her train of thoughts. It was a peculiar event, since she expected no one and had no acquaintances that paid unannounced visits.

To her enormous surprise, Sebastian was behind the door, looking rather tired, but in the most anxious of his calm ways of being. It was certainly strange to see him there, as he always set their encounters by phone, let alone the fact that she had not seen him in person for almost four months.

It was a pleasant surprise though when her lips were met by his. She felt his taste, a little chemicalized, but his taste altogether, a taste she had almost forgotten to be missing. She had almost forgotten how she had yearned for the taste of those lips, she had almost forgotten that yearning when she met those new lips, of that blessed and damned Julian.

What was more peculiar also, was a sentiment of resemblance between the kisses of Sebastian and Julian. There was a trace of the flavor of Julian's in Sebastian, she observed now, as she was kissed by Sebastian.

But she had learned to leave her thoughts behind when with one of the two men she felt this for. So with every fast breath Sebastian left on her neck, she let it go, and therefore was taken by the wave.

After it was over, as she lay nude in his arms, after she had allowed herself to be loved by her first man, she fell asleep like a newborn baby, soothed by the feeling of calm and protection received from the beholder. The beholder, though, did not go to sleep, but reflected on what had happened.

I closed my eyes, ready.

I embraced her body, and felt its every contour, exactly as I remembered it. Every curve, every feature, every detail.

Then I laid her on her back, but kept her close to my chest, to my heart, like I did the first time I made love to her. And I made her mine with as much love as my wilted soul could possibly utter, I possessed her with as great a care as if she was a young rose.

Though it was as truthful lovemaking as it always was between us, the sinners, the incapable of love beings that we are, almost nothing felt right, and, at the same time, it was never better. As I moved, as I buried myself into her, I felt my brother all over her. I felt his lips on her lips, his lips on her neck, his lips on her back, on her chest. I felt his voluptuous touch on her thighs and his breath mingled with her breath. I sensed his scent all around her, and the perversity of the whole act made me sick, deep down. I could see his fingers sculpted into her skin, I could see his fingerprints on every inch of her body.

I have tainted the only thing that was pure in my whole life, and she was pure in the most sinful way. I have tainted my prostitute.
I have consciously given Rose to Julian, and I do not resent it. He, for one, won't use her as a toy.