Reunion

A story written from the heart, and left without proofreading. Not the best piece of writing I've come up with, but I like it the way it is, raw and passionate.

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he sweet melody of her laughter reached his ears; it had been a while since he had heard such seductive giggling from her person, in that innocent, childlike way which she was all too aware swayed him so easily. Standing in the doorway, with that impish naivety twinkling in her soft, brown eyes, she waited, obediently, as if summoned. Yet he had given her no such command; indeed, it had been many weeks since their last endeavour together, many hours since he had almost given up hope of her ever returning to his embrace, to his sovereignty. Hopeful, dark eyes lifted from the work they had been forced to scrutinize for the better part of the night, illuminating instantly at the sight of her, as if his desire were so parched with lack of activity, that it took a mere gaze in her direction to set the paper alight.
She stood, nonchalantly, with an expression that epitomized their situation so ideally; she the helpless victim, clad appropriately in her maid’s costume, the dark skirt nestling just below her knees, contrasting vividly with the frilly, snow-white apron, and the skin tight stockings of the same colour on either side. Nestled in her beautifully combed hair, still bearing the fuzz from the recent friction, was the matching frills of her lacy headgear. Eyelashes fluttered his way, her small hands clasped behind her back, enticing him further, pink, sparkling lips pouting with the aid of her raspberry chapstick, beckoning, inviting, tempting. She was positively stunning.
Two strides later, he had reached her, his arms clutching around her body tightly, in a ferociously passionate embrace, lips crashing into her plush, inciting mouth, enveloping her in his desire. A squeak emitted from the small girl, eyes opening wide, before drifting closed, allowing herself to become lost within the heat of their collision. Strong fingers groped the lower recesses of her back, greedy, deprived, attempting to consume as much of her body as possible. Strangled whimpers escaped from either party, in disjointed harmony, their mouths drinking from one another, as if their thirst was enhanced by the other.
Hoisting her small frame up against him, clutching each of her warm, shapely thighs underneath her dress, he turned with her, lips slicing their way down her throat, teeth raking fiery scarlet along her milky throat, coaxing gasps of unbridled pleasure from her lungs. The gasps changed to a cry of pain, mingled with relentless desire, as the larger male crushed her against the door, slamming it shut so that she was trapped within his lair; not that she would have wanted it any other way. Pinned to the wooden door, her legs wrapped around his slender waist, fingers digging desperately into the bunched muscle of his shoulders, the sensation of his physical prowess sending electricity shooting straight through her system. She was helpless to his onslaught, and cried, begged for more, in that carnal moan he elicited from her soul, thrusting his obvious clear-cut yearning against her.
He was in no mood to wait any longer, no mood to prolong the agony of the everlasting anticipation, no mood to be gentle. Yet as the brutality of his testosterone threatened to overtake everything, his fingers frantically unbuckling his belt, as his mouth fastened to the hollow enclave at the base of his woman’s throat, he could feel the rebonding of something he had thought had been lost forever. Their hearts pressed together in the frenetic pace of the love, which had never gone missing, the well-formed muscles of his chest against the soft, feminine heartbeat of hers. It had never disappeared, only been waylaid in anger, in frustration, in incomprehension. Now once again, it lay discovered like a newborn seed in the palm of nature, tender, beautiful, fragile, yet invulnerable to the kernels of decomposition that lay everywhere around it. Untouchable. Perfect. Love.
His trousers lay around his ankles, her skirt rucked up around her hips, and torn at the front, as if the mere sight of her full, large breasts could not go forgone in their union. Using the weight of his hips to pinion the girl to the doorway, the feverish tempo stopped, both palms clasped to her cheeks, forehead to forehead, eyes lowered, breathing torridly against each other. Their words vanished into one another, igniting the flames of their hearts once more, their eyes lifting, and fatally, losing themselves within the other.
He penetrated her roughly, piercing the sacred haven of her womanhood with an savage thrust. Her head froze against the door, her lips frozen in the strained oval of ecstasy. He thrust again, and again, and again, sweat beading upon his brow and the front of his smooth chest. Clinging to him, she let loose her nightingale’s song, the mournful cry of the twilight, yet filled with such longing. His lips found her chin, smooching wetly, as he pumped vigorously, the soft ride of her breasts jouncing furiously on his chest, every sinew in his body dedicated to each renewed incision, plummeting the thick bar of his manhood into her depths.
Slick, obscene sounds rang out in the room, from his hips crashing into her thighs, laced with the ringing of their voices, the one soprano, the other baritone, calling to one another.
Already, he was approaching climax, but it mattered not; he wanted her, needed her; and with a bellow of pure visceral aching, he released inside the warmth of her intimacy, filling her with the desire they both craved, spilling his seed within, and feeling the hot trickle of the profuse amount seeping down his groin and her rump.
He could not release her, his arms wrapped up and under her frame, suspending her from the ground, her lips gentle, loving on his shoulder; and they stayed locked within each other, and whispered to one another in the gathering night, lost, in blissful love, lost, out of necessity, out of choice to each other’s heart.