** Please be aware that I do not always write Christian inspirational stories. I understand that some are offended by secular writings, but it is also a part of my bent. This is one of those writings. I can promise you that I will not write anything here that is considered "erotica" or graphic in nature. My aim is romance not arousal. I will tell you that when I see pictures of many types and compositions, my brain instantly devises a story to go along with it. It is in this nature that I warn you.
|Photo Credit: http://jlthomasauthor.tumblr.com/post/65695250005/|
There it was again. That moment… It flooded back to him unbidden, halting him abruptly, jerking him back in time like a dog at the end of some unseen leash.
He couldn't always tell what triggered it; sometimes the scent of her perfume would waft by on another woman entrancing him. Other times the way the light spilled through window panes carrying motes of dust on the invisible currents of air would send him reeling into remembrance. It was disconcerting and comforting at the same time and this time he closed his eyes where he sat and drifted on the memory, letting it propel him gently back to that day.
It had been only a moment, the way the light had cascaded in from the windows, unshaded and bright in the early afternoon. Yet it had seared itself into his brain like a fiery brand. She was there, laying atop him, her body warm and soft against his, kissing him and pulling him deeper into her spell. His hands were tangled in her hair, savoring her every taste, every touch, every scent. It had been only a moment, but it was everything.
The play of light across her bare shoulders, the scent of her perfume in his nostrils, the feel of her soft and supple and yet tightly toned against him. He had pulled her back to look into her eyes, to swim in the pools of deep green and savor the depth of her soul. He had wanted to stay like that, to lay there motionless, drinking her in thirstily with all of his senses, but there was urgency in him too. A feverishness to possess her, to claim her… It had been only a moment, but it had been everything.
Too soon they had parted, spent and moving quickly into the current of their very separate lives, carried into routines and events, parties awash in chasms of division. He had never intended to think on her again and in his naiveté, willed it to be so. But there was that moment… And he realized too late he would never be rid of her, that possessing her had been folly when she so utterly and completely owned him.
It had been only a moment, but it had been his undoing.