Sunday, January 19, 2014

The Man at Midnight's Stroke

She had been reading when she had slowly drifted to a light sleep. Her head was at right angle to the rest of her body, a horizontally propped pillow supporting her head. She still had her glasses on but they had started to slip on her oily nose and had reached the tip of her nose. She was woken up by the stirring under the blanket next to her. She slid further down and placed the pillow properly beneath her neck and head. Her hands reached backwards and switched off the bedside lamp. Her neck was paining due to the prolonged period of her acrobatic position.

The covers stirred once again. She turned her head and took a look at the timepiece on the night table. The radium illuminated hands showed ten past midnight. It was time, she thought to herself. The turning back made a few breaking sounds inside her cervical spine. God, how much would I love to get a neck massage right now, she thought to herself. She was no more sleepy. She stared at the fan on the ceiling, churning out slow circles with the blades. Should I go back to reading, she wondered. Or a shower maybe?

She was procrastinating her decisions, whatever it would be in the end, when she felt a hand reaching out from underneath the cover. It touched her waist. He is awake, she thought to herself and smiled.She turned on her side, facing his side of the bed. The hand climbed upwards and rested on her left breast. Men, she thought. In broad day light, they couldn't read street signs and find a bistro but at night, in the pitch darkness, they could find whatever they sought even without opening their eyes! She smirked.

The hand once again came down onto her navel. This time it went right underneath her night dress and began to run on her navel. She was feeling ticklish. A head propped out of the cover. It still had closed eyes on it. Half asleep, she thought. She slid down further on the bed. The hand again climbed up to what it sought, as always. As it went up, the top too rolled up. She felt the chill on her exposed upper body and it gave her goosebumps. With one hand, she removed her top and while she pulled the cover towards herself with the other and slid underneath it.

She could feel his breath on her chest right now. Her bra had hooks on the front. It just took her a couple of seconds to unhook them. A sigh escaped her as she undid them. The declaration of freedom. Instantly, she felt a warm wetness on her breasts. He had one of her breasts in his mouth and was sucking hard at her nipples. Her body arched towards him in response to the onslaught. She embraced him and pulled him closer to her. His breath was a panting gush of warmth on her body as he drank hungrily from her breasts. His hand, meanwhile began to play with the small crucifix locket she wore that rested in the cleavage. He did that every time, she thought to herself. Habits die hard!

Moments passed. Her neck was paining more now and she was straining herself in this position. She wanted to switch positions. But he was still half asleep and she didn't want to wake him up. She weaned him for a moment. She crossed over to the other side of the bed, balancing herself on her hands while she did it. She made room for herself on the other side, pushing him a little towards where she had been a moment ago. He was awake now. She could see his two big, burly eyes even in the darkness. She instantaneously felt guilty for breaking his rhythm. Women, she thought this time! Guilty for a man's insatiable hunger! But she loved this man with all her heart. He meant the world to her. Even when she knew that eventually he would leave her for some other woman.

No more thoughts. She had something to finish right now. And before she could initiate, she felt the warmth seeping onto her, again, this time on the other breast. But it didn't last long. He withdrew himself from her nipples, which had turned dark and swollen. She could feel the circle of saliva he had left behind slowly drying on her; along with the bite marks which had started to burn now. He lay on his back, a satisfied look on his still sleepy face. He had finished his job, she hadn't. She slid her arms underneath him and took him in her arms. She put him on top of her, his head resting in her cleavage, and began to pat his back. And then it came. Burp! Now she was done. She put him back on the bed and put an arm around him as he drifted off to sleep. She slid out of the bed, her bra and top in her hands, and walked towards the bathroom. She looked herself in the mirror as she washed herself - his saliva, her milk off her bosom. Motherhood, what a bliss, she thought!

Dedicated to A, for her story and for her celebration of womanhood and motherhood.