CHAPTER 22: KERRY
I lay down on the bed and felt my whole body go limp as Brett stroked a hand down my side. I was dressed in a soft silk shift, with nothing underneath. He leaned back. He had his shirt on, and his briefs. I looked up at him and smiled.
He smiled back. In the darkness of the bedroom, I could just make out his fine, clean-cut profile, his broad grin. I felt myself shiver. He was so handsome.
As he stroked my body, feeling it through the silk, I indulged my senses and watched his hard, buff body. His shirt was open and I could see those full, firm pecs, his hard abs. I shivered. He was so hot that I got aroused just watching him.
He reached lower and his hand brushed the place where my shift met my thigh. I felt the sweetness of that touch as if my nerves all tingled, carrying the message directly to my womb. It clenched in pleasure and I gasped.
His hand moved lower, sliding up under the shift. I tensed and the tickling sensation as his hand moved to my folds, brushing my clit, raced down my nerves and ignited in my brain. I parted my legs to let him stroke me.
He smiled, and then I closed my eyes, letting his judicious touch bring me to the brink of climax. I was almost there, my teeth gritting and my body sweating when he leaned back and stopped. He lifted the shift, drawing it up so slowly. I was in sweet agony.
He drew it off and stared down at me. I warmed under his gaze.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
He started undressing himself then. I lay back and watched in sweet pleasure as the shirt fell, showing me those vast biceps, that trim waist. Then he stood and took off the briefs, and my eyes couldn’t help take in evidence of his arousal.
Seeing that made my own body wet with longing. I shifted on the bed, murmurous. I wanted him so much.
He must have heard my little noise of almost pain, for he came and knelt on the bed and looked down at me, his eyes solemn.
“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he whispered.
I smiled. Managed to unclasp my teeth from my lip. “I can’t either,” I whispered. “I want you…”
He smiled and nodded. He teased me, running his hard cock over my folds, making my cries of pleasure intensify. I was so close now and I wanted him so much.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take it any longer, he pushed himself into me. Slowly, so slowly. I felt his hardness push in, bigger and fuller than even I remembered, so that his entry was slow and sweet, rubbing each of the sweet spots inside me.
I moaned with pleasure and we lay like that a moment, his body locked in mine. I looked up at him and knew that I was melting with pleasure, that nothing could possibly be as good as what I was feeling.
Then, just to prove me wrong, I had to suspect, he started to move. As he drew out and then, with all his muscled strength behind it, thrust in again, I honestly thought that my body would burn from too much longing.
I screeched and closed my eyes as he pulled out and pushed in, pulled out and pushed in. Every time he did it, my arousal was such that I could feel myself getting closer and closer, the new waves of pleasure building in me with every entrance. I was speechless and I thought I might die of pleasure.
He pushed in again and again, and as he did my climax got closer and closer and I cried out aloud.
***
My body took over. I had meant to go more slowly. Pace myself, and give Kerry a long night of pleasure. But as it was, I hadn’t accounted for just how she aroused me. I couldn’t hold back—the feeling of being inside her was so good, so impossibly wonderful, that I moved and pushed and moved, letting myself move in and out of her, each time amazed by how good it felt to be buried in her welcoming warmness.
I could hear her crying out beneath me, those groans rocking through me and joining my own gasps as the pleasure started to build inside me. My whole body was throbbing now, each nerve-fiber feeding me messages of pleasure and wonder that were getting more and more intense, more and more impossible to resist.
I gritted my teeth and thumped into her, and I heard her start to gasp. The sign of her arousal made me almost lose myself and come right then. I loved making her happy.
She was moaning now, crying out softly and I could see from how her teeth were clenched that she was so close. I moved more, faster and faster, filling her with me, driving into her, feeling my own climax get close.
She cried out. I felt a wash of pleasure so intense rush through me that I cried out too. Then my body was moving, pushing into her harder and harder and harder.
I gritted my teeth and tried to hold back for one more sweet instant of pleasure.
I cried out as an intensity I never would have imagined took hold of my body. I had never felt like this in my life. Engulfing and erasing, if I had died in that moment I could not have felt more like my body was melting and tearing and merging with pure sweetness.
I collapsed on top of her, sweating and relaxed.
I lay there, and the cool breeze dried the perspiration that had soaked us both. The room was cool, and I felt cold, except that my chest was glued to hers and we kept each other warm.
Later, when I was conscious again, I rolled off her and we lay close together. She lay her head on my shoulder and I wrapped her with my right arm. We lay in the dark, our breaths the only sound, her breath mingling with my own.
I lay there and knew that this was the best I had ever felt in my life.
Later, I rolled to one side and gently kissed her hair. It was loose, its red strands decorating the pillow. It was soft, and smelled sweet. I pressed my face against it.
We moved so that the coverlet was over us. I held her close to my body and felt her warmth revive me. I could feel the sweet curves of her body pressed against me and I stroked that silken skin. I was already starting to feel aroused again and I smiled. We had the whole night together.
She must have felt it too, for she nestled closer and turned a little, so that her side rested against me. I might have suspected she wanted to sleep, but that she looked round with such a wicked expression that I knew she wanted otherwise.
As I reached for her curvy body, my hand molded to her waist, my body curving round her sweet backside, I felt so much warmth suffuse my heart that I thought I might actually pass out. She was so lovely. She was mine. We were together.
I reached down and parted her thighs, playing with her, letting my fingers explore her slowly. She groaned and moved back and I could feel how ready she was. I was ready too.
Tenderly, slowly, with an intensity that amazed me, I entered her.
We lay together afterward, her in my arms, her warm curves molded to my body. I kissed her neck and knew myself to be so happy.
“Brett?” she said.
“Yes?” I asked. I heard how intense my voice sounded and I smiled. I had almost forgotten I had a voice, my body was speaking for me tonight.
“I am so happy here, with you. I love you.”
I swallowed hard. I thought I might cry. I blinked rapidly.
“I feel the same way,” I whispered. “Thank you. I love you too.”
She rolled over and her eyes met mine. I stared into that beautiful, loved face. I bent over and kissed her. Our eyes locked. I knew I had never been so happy.
We must have eventually slept, because the next morning I woke under the covers, sleeping on my right, with a warm, drowsy body pressed against me.
I kissed the back of her head. She stirred and sighed in her almost-deep sleep.
As I lay there, waiting for her to wake, looking at the pale red of her hair against the crisp white covers, the sunshine sparking fire down its shiny curls, I wondered what the future held for us.
Whatever it was, I knew it would be wonderful, because we would be in it together.
Epilogue
I couldn’t believe it when I stood up. I looked down at my feet. The laces wrapped my ankles, the silk ribbons tight, but not feeling anything other than perfect; familiar.
I swallowed hard. I was in the wings. I couldn’t quite see out from the curtains, though I could hear the music, drifting slowly back from the source just beside the stage. I could just see the audience from here. All else was obscured by the brightness of the lights.
I licked dry lips. I was here, ready to step into myself. My heart fluttered.
Okay, Kerry. Wait. Count. One, two three. And one, two…
As the music melted into a softer passage, I felt it flow through me, so that I was one with it. Like molten silver, like the water under starlight, it shifted and flowed and swirled…
I moved.
As I let the music take me, washing through me, becoming my legs, my arms, my heart, I flowed onto the stage. It was so natural. It just happened.
I stretched my hand out, seeing my own fingers reach across the glitter of the spotlight, each bone and sinew fluid as they moved in the gentle gesture we had choreographed.
I saw Joanna, and flowed toward her. In the dance, I wove round her, my steps light and slow. I moved in and round and back.
Then she stood. She was on her toes, her hands crossed before her. She moved out and back, and I watched her, the long, flax-pale hair arranged in a bun on the back of her head, poised and stiff. Mine was tumbling loose.
I whirled and flowed round, and we moved in a sweet unity and then parted as the music shifted and changed, aching with the tones of loss. I felt it in each part of me. I stepped back, the dance carrying me away.
The dance went on and on, pouring out of me as if I spoke in tongues, each movement a syllable that was not of me, not from me, but issued through me into the world before me.
Then, just as quickly as it had started, the music stopped. I was on the stage. I faced the audience. My eyes moved toward the back of the last row before the aisle. I saw a dark-haired head, and two shining eyes. Brett smiled at me.
Then the curtain came down.
The first act was over.
I felt myself suddenly weak. I looked at Joanna.
“You did it!” she said. She squeezed me in her arms, holding me close against her. I breathed in the floral scent of her deodorant.
I stood back. I was blinking, tears pouring down my cheeks. I didn’t make a sound, though. They were tears of elation and I smiled.
“We did it,” I said softly.
She just smiled, and shook her head a little. Her arm came around my shoulders, and we walked backstage together.
“Oh, Kerry,” she murmured. “It’s great to have you back.”
I gulped. “It’s great to be back.”
I meant it.
She went to the wings, to quickly change costume. She would be on in the second act. I was only in the first. It was my first time on stage in almost six years. We were taking it slowly, she and I. And my ankle.
But we were taking it. One step at a time.
I went down to my dressing room. Leaned against the wall, just thinking. I recalled all the hours of development, discussion and work. This was our dance—Joanna and mine. We had conceived of it together, a way to get me back on stage and dancing, without needing to strain my ankle much. Our choreographer had helped. They were glad to have me there, he said.
I was so glad to be back.
My new dancing involved mainly floor work and some steps—almost nothing on my toes. Not yet. Not until the tendon had a chance to get strong and heal completely once again. But we were getting there.
My doctor thought it would be another year before I was ready to dance in both acts again. But we were getting there. I knew my ankle was getting stronger. I could feel it.
I was just moving away from the wall, drowsy and peaceable, when I heard a knock at the door. I felt my heart thud.
“Hello?”
Brett was there. Armed with a nervous grin and a bunch of flowers, he stepped across the threshold.
“You were great,” he whispered into my hair. “You were beautiful. My love.”
I chuckled softly. Looked into his face. He held out the flowers. Dark red and scented, they were damask roses. My favorite. I felt my heart constrict inside me. “Oh, Brett,” I whispered.
He chuckled. Stroked my hair. “I love watching you dance,” he said softly. “It’s so beautiful. Well done.”
I felt my heart melt in my chest and buried my face in his scent. His arms wrapped round me and held me close. I tipped back my head and looked into his eyes.
He reached out and gently cupped my cheek. His eyes held mine, their sparking green intensity gentle, now, and serious. He leaned in and kissed me.
“I love you,” he said.
“Oh, Brett,” I whispered. “I love you too.”
And that was the start of a new story in my life. One in which I stepped forward with joy, and peace and love. Because we were together. And, after all, when you are doing what you love, and being who you are, everything else you do, and find, and meet, will be of love. I was so, so happy.
The End