A Summer To Live For! (Friday Fiction)

Lovers at the Grand Canal, Versailles, France
Image by Grufnik via Flickr


I sit watching her sleep.  Entranced by an exquisite beauty.  Enjoying the vision before my gluttonous eyes.  Mesmerized by every detail of voluptuous symmetry, so softly seductive, inviting and sensual.  She lay face down with one arm cradling her head, keeping the cool, slender tendrils of grass from brushing her face.  Luscious, velvety smooth, chestnut hair, shimmering nearly golden in the sunset glow.  Flows gracefully, trickling down over a naked shoulder, along the nubile curves of the most flawless body I have ever seen.

absorbing every aspect of the scene arranged, seemingly for my infinite personal pleasure.  Just the two of us, laying contentedly sated on the banks of a quiet azure pond.  The mystical sounds of an enchanting waterfall in the distance.  The warm spring breeze in the grasses cause a rippling wavelike effect.  A songbird, trilling it’s melody, adding to the magic of the moment.  The horizon ablaze with the  fierce incandescent embers of a springtime eventide.

Watching her breath, so simply and comfortably.  I guide my fingers softly, gently along her neck.  Sliding them appreciatively over the silken shoulder, to navigate ever so slowly.  Exploring  the contours of her back, playing along a supple spine.  Witnessing her involuntary pleasure as the skin ripples with the sensation of my pausing deftness.  A hushed, delicate groan escapes her lips, as she rolls slightly, divulging her side to my tactile reconnaissance.  My disciplined hovering touch glides back to the nape of her slender, lissome, neck.  Running speculative fingers along her delicate shoulder, to journey down a  slender soft arm.  Unable to resist, I play my compassionate touch along her ribcage, with the flair and confidence of a pianist playing the ivory.  

In reward, I receive a delightful sigh of awakening, as she stirs, and rolls toward me.  Gazing into her sparkling emerald eyes, effusing intelligence, tenderness, and adoration.  Realizing the depth of my own feelings for this manifestation of  feminine perfection.  I lean closer to sample the sweetness of her supple, pliant lips.  My wandering hands exploring the soft yet firm curves of pure  feminine perfection.  Tenderly caressing her taught belly, they adventure further, searching for a soft warmth…

A violent rumble of sound awakens me as the airplanes wheels chirp with contact from the hard paved runway.  Vibrations traveling along the airframe drag me succinctly from my personal reprieve.  I stir with the realization that soon, very soon, The memories will be all I have to sustain me.  The unbelievably loud sound from the engines, and lessening vibration of the runway, brutally force my conscious mind back to the reality of the moment. 

Glancing at the familiar faces of my compatriots, I collect my trinkets and tools of war.  Standing we all move ever so slowly to the lowering ramp to be greeted by the dry dusty heat of our newly found environs.  marching off the plane, I glance around to be welcomed by the sight of distant mountains, sharp and craggy in appearance, topped with a sprinkling of white.  

At least I’ll have the mountains, and those unbelievable memories of a summer so wondrously magical, filled with passion and pleasures untold.  Truly a summer to live for!
This is purely a work of fiction, no association or comparison with real people is intended in any way.

11 comments:

Eric S. said...

To all my readers, I must confess, I wrote this with a rampant flush on my face. My shyness would have it no other way.

The Muse said...

The blushing of a writer?
A sight rarely seen...for we tend to be a lot who keep in comfortable company with our pen and our words.

I applaud your piece, Eric, not merely for the imagery and visceral mastery, but for the fact you were pressed to limits that moved even you.

See...you can stand on the precipice, my friend, and not fall !:)

Sandee said...

What The Muse said.

Very well done. Makes you wonder if he's off to war and remembering his wonderful summer. Okay, that's what came to my mind.

Have a terrific day and weekend. :)

Eric S. said...

@ The Muse, LOL, thank you. I'm one of those silent and shy types, a wall flower at any public function. I prefer to sit in the background and watch other people play the games of romance.

@ Sandee, That is exactly what was intended. I've had the idea for a long time, and it's been pestering me to no end. So I decided to start writing about it. The plot is, a young soldier off to war, remembering his last summer home, when he found the love of his life who had really been there all along. I should be able to continue the story taking my readers back to the beginnings of that fabulous summer, and all the events leading up to his deployment.

cheryl said...

O that was wonderful Eric ! Beautiful memories are what sustains us in times of trouble :)

Eric S. said...

Thanks Cheryl, That they do indeed.

tashabud said...

Hi Eric,
You've written this story so eloquently and masterfully. Your writing had definitely drawn me into it. It's so romantic and poetic.

So frustrating for the soldier, I'm sure, to be rudely awakened from his beautiful and romantic daydreaming. Life can be so cruel and unfair, huh?

Excellent writing, Eric.

Have a great week,
Tasha

The Muse said...

Dropping in to say Hello :)

Eric S. said...

Thanks Tasha, I had a lot of fun with this one. I'm not much of a romance writer, but I do like describing things.

@ The Muse, thank you, I'll swing by and visit a little.

kkipp said...

Oh my heavens *blush* little brother!

*wink*

Kel

Eric S. said...

LOL, your too funny. You know I'm the shy one!

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