CHILD OF THE DARK
Maureen L Reardon
Copyright © 2003
This is an original work and as such is protected under the copyright laws of the United States. Please do not duplicate, copy, print, distribute or exchange this piece without the expressed written permission of the author.
The rain howled with demonic fury, shrieking, screaming, vengeful. The surf, the seas exploded as thunder on rock. Lifted by fierce winds it became as one with the lashing rain.
It was not a night for the faint hearted for, there can be no greater terror than a ruthless storm.
Yet, the storm and the night held no fears. She was a child of the dark, a daughter of the storm, a women of wild places. This was her world, overlooking the turmoil she was excited by the delirium of her savage night.
The songs of the wind, the bass of sea, the chorus of rain. It sent the blood coursing hotly through her veins. She raised her eyes to the heavens. The storm crashed and screamed.
The savage darkness, its wrath its tantrum, into the clouds. She smiled to herself.
She knew better. For she also knew her lover. Unbridled desire for her. The roaring of the fire, waiting. She taunted, allowing her thoughts to merge. Yet, somewhere, deep within. She was conscious of the stirrings of her own desires. The warmth of a sensuous. As tides ebbing and flowing within her. A need soon ignited into a flame of passion. She sensed her awakening.
Eagerness gathered itself. This elemental opera was nearing the final act.
Her lover arrived, casting off her clothes as she ascended towards her private heaven.
Pale lighting illuminated her naked skin and the softness of her flesh. The curve of her spine, the full swell of her hips, the shapely firmness of her thighs all gleamed in reflection.
Only the large, antique bed with its satin mattress occupied this haven.
She closed the door and stood in the warm darkness.
The storm roared out its lust for her. She succumbed to its demands to await the pleasures of her lover. Fierce wind became caressing fingers. Lashing rain turned to fond kisses. Pounding surf was the heartbeat of her. No longer was the storm, a thing to be feared. Instead, she was a thing of beauty and love. Her breath deepened. Her eyes closed. She gave herself to the night.
Beautiful lover, her storm. Aroused within the heat of passion. Her body began its dance of temptation whispered softly.
As the storm, tantalized her. As She whimpered softly, while her head rolled slowly from side to side with pleasure. Nerves tingled, warmed quickly to the constant attentions of the storm. The dance to the tumultuous opera of the darkness.
As they merged into a single entity. The crashing of the ocean. Uncontrolled thrashing. The hammering of the rain was her hands on trembling nakedness. The shrieking wind was the long cry of pleasure.
As the storm peaked in delirious, passion which exploded with such violence. Rocked to the very core of her being. A moment which seemed to last a lifetime. On the edge of the of there abyss, into the warm, dark depths of contentment. As she cradled in the golden light of there love.