VoyForums
GIVE FREE FOOD
www.TheHungerSite.com
-> Click Here <-
SAVE THE RAINFORESTS
www.TheRainforestSite.com
-> Click Here <-
Non-profit ad served by VoyForums...

[ VoyUser Login optional ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, [2], 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 12:40:06 11/19/09 Thu
Author: celtgirl ()
Subject: Here's a more complete version, turned out it only needed a couple of sentences to sew the bottom end together>>>
In reply to: celtgirl 's message, "Okay, there was some talk about as nice as it was to see Jamie, some ladies were missing Casey- so here's a wee scene with the man. It's a larger scene than this, but it's not finished, I hope you'll enjoy the snapshot nevertheless." on 11:33:19 11/19/09 Thu

copyright 2009 Cindy Brandner

She sat by the window, rocking quietly, hands resting on the mound of her belly. The moonlight fell over her, limning her hair and skin, and lighting the white of her nightgown so that she looked like an angel caught in repose. A very fertile angel, he amended to himself, but an angel nonetheless. His wife. The thought of it still astounded him from time to time, accustomed as he was to their life together. That a rough boy from the wrong side of Belfast- not that there was a right side of Belfast come to think of it- should be loved so well and so passionately by a woman such as she. There were times when he would watch her, when she was unaware of him, as she sorted through her negatives, or when she was blissfully absorbed in her flowers, and he would be taken afresh at her beauty, her singularity, that of all the women in the world, this one was his own.

As much as it surprised him, still if he were honest, he had felt proprietary about her from the moment he saw her in his brother’s kitchen- had felt as he’d once told her that he’d die miserable if he didn’t find himself between her thighs at some point. But it had been more profound than that too, right from the first. He had known her, and she him in a way that went far deeper than words, as if she didn’t see the man who had been in prison, been poor, but saw further than that, to what he might be, to what he was in his heart, in his thoughts in the quiet of the night. There had always been a silent understanding that existed between them even during the worst of times, such as when he had left her after Robin’s death, and he had known even as he tried to drown his sorrows in a series of bottles, that he could not exist apart from her, knowing she was somewhere lonely, maybe afraid, needing him, as he needed her.

She turned then from her inward contemplation, stirring slightly, and looked up at him, as if she had sensed all along that he stood watching.

She arched her back slightly, rubbing at the small of it, eyes soft with some maternal thought that made him feel as though motherhood were a mystery from which men were excluded completely. Then she smiled at him and he found himself walking to her and kneeling at her feet, drawn as surely as a magnet to true north.

She combed her fingers through his curls, fingers massaging his scalp and working their way down his neck. He felt himself relax under her touch, melting into the warmth of her thighs beneath his cheek, the hard ball of their child nudging at his head. There was no other place in the world where he felt more secure or vulnerable, than in his wife’s arms.

Aye, he was hers, just as she was his, for better or worse, forever, and there was no other way he would have it.

She slid his shirt down from his shoulders, hands tracing softly over his back, fingers feeding an energy into his body with every stroke, that he could not mistake.

He sat back on his heels, his eyes looking into her own. In the soft light, her eyes were tender with a heat that had him standing and reaching out his own hands to pull her up, before he even knew what he was doing.

There on the bed, mind and body brought to the service of only one thing, no words were spoken, somehow the still of the moonlight held them both, and to speak seemed a sacrilege.

It happened this way sometimes, where it coalesced into a thing beyond lovemaking or mere passion, and he lost his boundaries and found it took a long time to know them again after. It had frightened him the first time, because he hadn’t known that daily life always gave one back to oneself, and he had thought perhaps he was lost forever in this thing they created together.

After, she fell asleep in his arms, her skin glowing soft as pearls under his hands, body soft and warm against his own, the rhythm of their breathing in counterpoint, as hers slowed with unconsciousness. Around him the house was warm and dark, mellow with the noises of night, the boards that groaned a bit and settled, the rustle of the thatch as it adjusted to the night moods of stone and wood. He knew every beam and line of mortar, every level and crooked bit of it. He loved every room, for their various uses- the hearths, the floors, the chairs and tables, the windows, the counters and sinks and nooks and crannies.

And at the core of this home was the thing that made it infinitely precious to him- the beating heart of their life together.

Last edited by author: Thu November 19, 2009 13:09:59   Edited 3 times.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-8
VF Version: 2.94, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2012 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.