When Two Are One

He was enthralled, attracted to her heat and to her heart, could not explain it though in simple human speak. They'd met, somewhat by chance, and nodded, as if in unison, she took his hands and planted a moist kiss right onto doubtful lips, she tied his hands or so it seemed behind her back, and let his fingertips descend to her delicious crease while pressing forward gently with her loins, he felt her cheek she'd be complaining soon about the coming whisker burn, and then her tongue, saliva wet probed into lips to open and to venture deep inside, and finding his; it had been long, too long since early days, when dormitories meant you'd snatch a fleeting kiss. They slobbered now, or so he thought, saliva flowed and dribbled, where he caught it on her upturned chin, he licked her face in case there were more drops to mop and claim his own. They spent the day, again and met clandestine like, two eager spies, down by the river where the boaties meet, an angler, armed with silly tools would stand and try to catch a simple fish, by reeling in and casting, endlessly, as if this dull routine could ever fool a fish. They found a spot, checked for the usual ants, preferred a bit of shade which soon was found, at the conclusion of a search for parks which only took them here, then there, then here again, as if this dull routine could find the perfect nest. Well armed with rugs and drink, sandwiches made with loving hands at home, of Latvian Liverwurst and Lockyer Valley Camembert. They kissed of course, and touched and talked which seemed to be all due at once, she fed him and he licked her fingers as she offered them, it was a heat that threatened to consume perhaps all rationale, scent of a woman on his lips, his cheeks and now applied to where it ought to go, saliva bathed his eyes, hands cradled and the rise was felt, though time his fickle felon's mate would be constrained, they'd be two connoisseurs, and slowed the pace, by tasting all, and moving back, and forth then in and out, but just a teasing inch, whereby he reassured that there would be no little fishes making it, into the trusted place, they'd keep a proper distance though would brush and stroke the entrance to her cave, and move, while lips would baby-like caress the twins, who also had been touched by dew from deep within. Then they would rest, his was the thigh between her legs and touching just enough to signal to the pubic bone, which he explained was called the symphysis, a proper name not doing justice though, and this he knew. They'd talked, and touched on many themes, though shyness did still hang about, this was their real life and not the phone, or Googlemail, she'd brought his list, the one that they decided not to send to Santa, as it would have brought a halt to holidays for all. She loved him, that was clear and it was love that fell on them when tiny drops of rain were sent by unknown angels, that premier night down by the boardwalk's moon. She'd readily agreed, the list was fine and he could sense her awe, well hidden right behind a clear curiosity, they'd snuggle close and he would watch, at least a single time, and when she came would be there, free and ready to take in all that was given in the fiery heat of lava flow, he'd waited all his life, and had been coy, he would not talk to mates, or long-haired friends about his wish, the longing would he reckoned, heal the wound at last. He knew he would not sleep, that night and when it came he would be high on scent, and bathe his palate and his trusted tongue until the earth was doomed or the Grim Reaper called him home. She did not drink, as such, but had a taste for Cabernet Merlot, it mixes well and leaves no stains inside, he helped her find a very private place, where there was peace and ample time, and opportunity, as well as ambiguity, inside their dizzy minds. They had decided when the raindrops fell, that theirs was one huge heart shared by their love, that speech would be the lifting of a veil, and that they'd know the tasks, why questions still remained, that there would always be an obligation of sheer honesty, so when she crouched he kneeled behind and held her naked thighs to be there close, forever close and there they shared and they were one, just simply one. For My Gem