Invite Her In
Keywords: Her, In, Invite,
It's late. The kind of late where you move, and find that the cold air has solidified you into position, that your hands can no longer do anything besides type, and your eyes have dried out from too long not blinking.
I have almost found her. Today, I saw an image of her, in the banner advert on a porn site, staring out at me. Her eyes moved, but she didn't see me. The same dim, denim-coloured twilight wraps around the windows now as it did at sunset. Reflections from all the streetlights turn the sky the same electric grey as my keyboard.
I moved, moments ago, and realised that I am still awake. There was a noise; I think the hot tub is running.
Walking outside is like walking into a novel. The light is too much to be afraid of the dark, but too little to see clearly. The hot tub is on, steaming in the chill, with the bubbles going. The screen door drifts shut behind me. If I were more awake, I would think of intruders, of caution. I might go back inside, or fetch a baseball bat I keep for that purpose, or my phone. I am not sufficiently alert for that. Instead I wade out into the twilight, in cold bare feet and jeans.
The wind gusts, makes the streetlight flicker like a candle as the trees move across it and back. My hair falls down over my shoulders and across my face, the same colour, in this lack of light, as the darkness is. Through it, I see her for the first time.
She is a shadow, a sense of movement where I expected none. She is pale skinned, pale haired, and electric. She is in the hot tub.
I join her. In this state of sleep deprived incoherence, I walk straight out of jeans and panties, bra, everything. I do not recall removing them, but I am naked now, and the wind is raising gooseflesh on my breasts and turning my nipples dark and tight. I step into the warm water, and she slides her hand across my stomach and down my leg.
At this point, this moment as she turns to face me, I must choose what genre to belong to. Is she a nymph or a vampire, rusalka or phantom? I am too stunned to think, too aroused to care. Her fingers trail back up my leg, and graze my sex. As she leans forwards, and raises her face to look at me, one finger slides into me at that same moment. Slides, slowly, into the hot center of me. I think I gasp. For that moment I forgot to breathe, staring at her. Her thumb slides up and finds my clit, circles. Agonisingly slowly, circles. She meets my eyes.
Her eyes are empty, pure electric blue. No pupil, no white, only silver-blue like dying electrons.
Her other hand is chilled as it slips under the water to cup my breast. I am afraid of her, but I want her so badly I can taste it as I look at her. Her fingers brush my nipple, then again, harder. She lifts my breast out of the water, and lowers her head to tongue the nipple, still tight ad dark, but not with cold. Still, the finger, easing in and out of me, her thumb, circling.
Against the cold air, her mouth is hotter than anything I can imagine. Right now I cannot imagine, I can barely think. She suckles, my nipple and half my breast in that hot mouth. Hotter than the water, hotter than anything. And her finger slides in, and out. Rain starts, light and cold, misting the lights, and another finger joins the first. In, and out. Faster, now, the pace of my heartbeat.
She raises her head, and kisses me before I can do anything. I am bewitched, completely. Her tongue slides into my mouth, then out, teasing. The thought of her mouth, that tongue, where her fingers are arches my back, presses me into her. She moans into my mouth, and becomes real. I touch her perfect skin, and she moans again.
Her head is thrown back, eyes shut, and I can almost think. I run my hand down the smooth curve of her back, across her thighs. She smells of sex, of static and ozone and the chlorine in the hot tub. I slide one finger into her, in imitation, and she shudders. Her mouth is once again on my breast. Her fingers slide in and out of me, faster and faster. I can feel myself sliding towards the edge. We are syncopated, out of rhythm but moving to the same need, the same drive. Faster, in, and out. I slide a second finger into her, and she moans in her throat and onto my breast. My other hand is tangled in her hair, soft as moonlight, pulling her closer.
Heartbeat. Slide. Heartbeat. Like an electrical storm, it crashes over us. I don't know, don't care if this is her climax or mine, it feels the same. I shudder on her hand, and still, she doesn't stop. Again, she brings me, and again. The rain is harder now, drenching wet, and icy. I can't quite care. I can't feel my toes, or any fingers but the one still inside her, as she shivers with aftershocks. I don't think I can move any part of me.
I invite her in.
Keywords: Her, In, Invite,