Winter's Touch

I wake to sunlight filtering into the room, the sun's rays gently rubbing across my shoulder, asking if I am alive. I roll over to escape the warm touch and wince; my body is stiff from top to bottom, every muscle protesting movement. The heat intensifies on my back as the minutes tick by; the sun rises like a father leaning over the bed, checking on his child the morning after an all night illness.

That is when the first tear falls, every morning, without fail. I dread the day, the warmth, and the loneliness. The pains in my body echo those in my soul and I cling to them, bury my head in their dark depths and wait. I am a lover sniffing at the tail edge of the neuron firings like remnants of a shirt, finding comfort in your cologne, your musk and sweat, and our sex spilled over the sheets.

There is no life for me in the light and I exist as a zombie, doing what is necessary to sustain health and social status, but I am empty and hollow inside. By mid afternoon my spirits shift; the tears of sorrow dry and the void in my stomach opens. The depths of my core bubble and well with anticipation. And dread. The fear never falters, never leaves, she just entwines my soul and clenches as the night draws near.

Darkness claims the sky and stars paint the black. Tears of joy rain down my face as you enter my room, clad only in a cloak as thick as the midnight air. I kneel before you and bow low, kissing the floor before you and murmuring low, incomprehensible. Your cloak falls to your feet, silent. Never have you uttered a sound and tonight is no different. Strong hands pick me up, gently, the way our nights always begin, and place me on the soft bed. I am how you want me, an offering to a god, dressed only in a soft sheer robe; my robe spills open around me as you cover me. I smile, the smile of a mad woman, locked away for years. You never look at my face, never acknowledge me with your eyes, but I can always tell when you are pleased. Already hard and thick when you arrive, you pulse atop my stomach. Your skin is cold, chilled from the night air and I gasp.

My sharp breath is your cue; your support drops to one arm, while the other pins my wrists. Your knees spread my legs wide and you thrust your cock deep, an icicle splitting me in two. I scream, part pain and part pleasure. The ecstasy wells up, the onslaught has begun: your touch is far from gentle now. You jerk my head to the side and bite my neck, teeth digging deep. With your mouth locked, you release my chin to search out my breasts, nails tearing into my flesh as you pinch nipples, erect and reaching to brush your chest. Your pleasure builds and echoes through your hips, and as pinned as I am, I cannot buck with you; bruises form where our bodies meet, invisible now but they will be vivid tomorrow. Screams and moans mate in my throat, gurgling forth as I writhe beneath you.

Your climax hits like a sudden blizzard; silence surrounds me as your body stills and I feel you melt inside my very core, closing the void and feeding the emptiness. I ride your release, soaking in the chill escaping from your skin and drinking all that you drip within my core. With your final twitch, your body relaxes against mine and your grip on my wrists slackens. Nails rake from my chest to my neck, tracing your teeth marks, pulling whimpers of delight from my lips. I am panting, waiting for you to allow me to cum. Your finger trails down my should and jumps to my hip, continuing lower as your mouth draws closer to my neck again. Just as your hand slides between me and the bed, you thrust one last time and bite at the bruise. I convulse around your cock and scream into the night. Your cool breath whispers across my skin like a soft winter breeze and I can feel myself peaking higher than before; my sight begins to fade as reality is sucked away with your receding touch.

I am asleep before you leave the bed. I dream of nothingness, of emptiness blooming into something beautiful. It tears me apart, rips me to shreds, and grows outward and upward and on to the heavens, searching for you. I wake to sunlight's tap on my arm, my bed empty and warm once more.