Message-ID: <17388eli$9811192042@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: miramalin@aol.com (MiraMalin) Subject: Beyond the windows (M/F romantic) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19981115080314.19599.00000833@ngol03.aol.com> A little romance - enjoy repost and take a moment to reflect and have pleasure Beyond the windows of my soul Regard me, choose perfection For within my mind cries out, Wanting again to be beautiful Embracing your ethereal self, Longing to live beyond. When a smile rippled on her cheeks, like the moon shine through the shadows of the trees, the face became hers. The first time it had happened it had taken him by surprise. Quietly, almost furtively he threw glances her way, searching for that imperceptible opening into her heart, her mind, her desires....those delights that hid in the lilt of her accent, the swing of her hips as she walked and in the curve of her sweet thigh. The bent and bruised grass would be evidence of his loving dance with her, even though she would be nowhere to be seen, leaving only the glint in the corner of his dreams, as he lay there with his eyes closed. He told himself that when he reopened them she would be there, quivering at the edge of his reverie, as twilight thickened to darkness, pierced with stars. And he would groan with the nightmare of abandonment and despondency. She remembered the sound of his voice - puzzled, aggrieved, angered. She had put her pillow over her head to blot it out..and she must have drifted off. The next thing that she could remember was the sound of someone, moving quietly across the room towards the window, to stare out fitfully, sleeplessly. Miramalin 11/98 Her mind swung back to the past, when he had seemed so much more wise and able to cope than she. She wanted him back to that time when he had sat by her, comforting her head as she fought her way out of yet another angry nightmare of disillusionment. Would he stoop to touch her lightly and run his tongue across her lips, in an unforgettable sensation? Was it excitement or more than that? A rush of emotions bubbling up through her, rushing to the surface of her stream to broaden her life and wear away the scope of her feelings. And now, here he was sitting by her again, yet it was she who was crooning softly, while his nightmare lurked on the threshold of her sleep. Someone in the room had been her once and never ending nightmare. Now, he would often stand at her window. breathing deeply and she would, without knowing why, pretend to sleep. If the night were aglow with stars in a cloudless sky he would pull back the curtains and show present her with those resplendent jewels, hers forever until morning. Then came the reassuring whisper: "It's only me." She started up in sleepy recognition. She could sense his shadow in the darkness. The scent of him - warm, agreeable, masculine. He turned in the window - in the moonlight and stood there - a still life. She wanted to sympathise with his evident misery and patted the side of the bed offering him a seat. She felt it would be nice to have him...sitting there, taking her into his confidence. A conspiracy to break the silence with eager whispers - a midnight feast of exchanged secrets. then he would sigh and ask her to kiss him. when she pout her arm around his neck, his cheek would feel wet with tears, leaving her feeling maternal and warm and safe against him....drifting back to sleep, into a sweet dream where she floated, light as stardust, through his universe, her arms and legs, spread as a soft warm meteor shower coursing through him - feeling, swooning and pulsing through an eternity of space. Miramalin 11/98 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----