The prologue

On a sweltering October night, 
the warmth wrapped around me, 
a second skin, 
and he remained a mystery, 
until that fateful evening. 
Thoughts twirled in my mind, 
while reality danced just out of reach. 
Captivated, I found myself 
entangled in his essence, 
as the days dwindled to Halloween, 
a strange twist of fate: 
masks and makeup transformed the world 
into a carnival of sweet dread, 
and I finally shed my own disguise, 
revealing the shadowed core within.

On that October night, 
across the restless ocean, 
he altered my view 
with a mere flick of his magical fingers. 
There he was, lost in his reverie, 
beneath the flickering disco lights, 
his hips swaying to an unspoken beat, 
a silent allure. 
Oh, my love, had you allowed it, 
I would have stormed your fortress, 
as I was a tempest unleashed!

I stood too close, 
watching the glistening beads of sweat 
trace paths down his neck, 
pooling in the hollow above his sharp collarbone. 
He always left a fragment of himself exposed, 
enough to spark contemplation, 
yet too much to allow for restful slumber 
after our encounters. 
Later, I teased, 
"Do you always leave a few buttons undone, 
just to ignite our desires?" 
He flashed a grin, almost innocent, 
brushing aside his long, graying bangs, 
fully aware of my intent. 
"And would you like to taste this neck, 
like a vampire, mmm?" 
Yes, Halloween was approaching.

Innocence twisted into playful intrigue, 
and I saw the fire ignite in his gaze. 
I knew too well how he lingered 
in this moment. 
Yet, this was merely the prologue 
of our tale, 
pausing at the crossroads of flirtation, 
savoring the thrill. 
In time, he would make me come apart, 
but first, he seemed intent 
on reveling in the dramatic, 
almost decadent allure 
of my youthful rebellious femininity.

"Oh, the shame of it, to confess, 
but deep within, I awaited you
to mature and... seek me out. 
And what I behold now, 
is beyond my wildest dreams...
You... You..." 
His voice faded, a teasing whisper 
that sent shivers through my legs. 
Do not play with my heart so skillfully, my dear! 
He moistened his lips, a sign of eagerness— 
I sensed it, I felt it. 
Then he shook his head, 
"You... stir me so much, I can't," he breathed, 
stepping boldly closer.
 
Who was I to pull away? 
Could I ever turn my back on him? 
Oh no, never, not from him— 
my greatest desire, my most profound yearning. 
My eyes traced his gleaming wet neck, 
to his tired party visage, 
those chiseled cheekbones, 
the enticing arch of his nose. 
After all those years, 
he remained strikingly handsome. 
I dreamed of the bliss of one day claiming him, 
pressing him beneath me, 
showering him with kisses, 
slowly, deliberately, from head to toe. 
But for now... 
I sighed, savoring his last words, 
and whispered, "Please, continue."

[2018/2019]