The Nest

The moonlight shone through the oeil de boeuf, directly on the bed.  He had taken me through a maze to his nest. I had to close my eyes for fear of dizziness when we ended up on the roof of the old house, on a footbridge that led to his room. He had lit a few candles.  A mattress lied on the carpeted floor covered with colorful cushions.  Pictures of him and a very pretty brunette, and some paintings hung on the walls.  "She left, she went abroad to work for an art studio, she said she wasn't coming back".  He had prepared some tea and we devoured the croissants. We chatted, discovering each other.  After a while, he pulled me next to him on the bed were we cuddled lying on the cushions, my nose in his neck inhaling his smell.  The night was dark and quiet. Some jazz was playing in a muffled sound on the radio. We dozed off. 

"….Hey, Frenchy, you have some crumbs on your cheek", he licked them off, and his tongue started exploring my neck, my ear lobe, it gave me goosed bumps. He gently sucked on my lower lip, following the rim of my lips with his tongue.  I opened my mouth and his tongue brushed on my teeth.  It was a mixture of soft, yet passionate play of the lips.  He was such a great kisser! The music was slow; I was lying on top of him, my hips moving to the music. We were suspended in time, feeling mellow, just the saxophone filling our ears.  Bliss!

(To be continued)