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From: "Adhara Law" <eros_dreams@hotmail.com>
Subject: {Adhara} "Dear Nicholas" {MF, FF}
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Hope you enjoy; please feel free to send me comments, negative and 
positive. Like much of my fiction, this is not stroke stuff, so please 
remember that if you review it.

-- Adhara


DEAR NICHOLAS
Copyright 1998 Adhara Law (eros_dreams@hotmail.com). All rights 
reserved. May not be reproduced or distributed, with the exception of 
USENET archiving, without express written permission by the author.

As I write, the blue sky succumbs to the black clouds that eat the 
horizon in slow, necessary death. They remind me of you. 

Sabine putters. Her mood is one of barely constrained sadness, a 
calmness tinged with the reminder of underlying memories since she found 
the picture. It was buried behind boots and shoes, forgotten in the 
closet until we did some spring cleaning. Would you remember when it was 
taken if you could see it? The day the three of us had gone hiking in 
the mountains and braced the camera on a tree branch in order to capture 
the moment forever? The freshness of your face, your beautifully smiling 
face, so happy in the last moment in which we would remember you that 
way…how long has it been? Four years? Five years? Have you forgiven me?

I wonder if you have repressed the memories of when we first met. They 
are still as fresh to me now as they were that first night. Yours was 
the first face I'd ever looked into that eradicated the need for words. 
The people, music, food, drink at a party that neither of us really 
wanted to be at. The almost undetectable flitting of your eyes from my 
face to my body. The conversation without words. I remember it all.

I remember the silent ride in the car to the motel room, my eyes tracing 
the ragged edge of the dark pavement under the heartbeat of streetlights 
as my hand slithered to your thigh and further. The telling presence of 
your hard cock under the wool of your suit. The warm wetness that left 
an indelible mark on the insides of my thighs when you shut off the 
engine and we got out of the car.

I remember the moist heat of your hands as they shook against me, 
popping the buttons of my dress in rapid succession to each breath you 
rasped against my ear. A thin sliver of dirty, yellow light from the 
motel sign draped your right shoulder as you pulled me to the unfamiliar 
bed, the bedspread -- never turned down in the acceleration of the 
moment -- smelling of chemicals and the bodies of strangers. I inhaled 
the heady scent, breathing in your body under me. Still there were no 
words. I slid down your chest, tasting the thin veneer of saltiness and 
cologne that enveloped you in a miniscule sheen, gorging on the meal 
that was you. Slipping your cock past my lips and listening to you moan 
in desperate supplication. We fucked, my legs straddling your hips as 
you locked yourself against me, my fingertips raking the meaty bars of 
your ribs as my body pushed you further into the bed. And the motel sign 
bathed us in its light, an unholy aura of depravity.

Somehow without saying so, we both knew it would not be the only time. 
We did away with the safety and anonymity of sterile motel rooms, opting 
instead to violate the hermetic sanctuary of your bedroom while Sabine 
was away on business. It was impious, profane, throwing my clothes on 
the floor and kneeling before you as you sat on the edge of the bed, the 
sacred altar of your marriage. And the irreverence of it all empowered 
me as I felt you hard behind me, my arms resting on the wall, my hips 
pushing forward and back to fuck you further into me. 

There were the expected games -- the whisper of "wrong number" when I 
called and got Sabine instead of you. The cryptic messages left with 
coworkers as if we were forgotten spies trying to get home. 

And then it happened -- I met her. Do you remember, Nicholas? I can't 
imagine you'd forget. We were at a party thrown by mutual employers, 
forced to network and to promise to do lunch, and you had brought her. I 
even remember what she wore -- black silk pants and jacket, with a 
sapphire blue linen shirt. Her ears were conservatively studded with 
pearls. I believed, at that moment, that I had never seen a woman until 
I saw Sabine. And I thought: does she know? Does she taste the traces of 
me when she sucks your cock in the warm cocoon of the bedroom you fucked 
me in? Can she feel the grooves my fingernails engrave along your spine 
as I beg you to go deeper, faster? 

I was angry, Nicholas. I watched from across the room the way your hand 
settled comfortably in the small of her back as you erupted in deep 
laughter. I wanted to feel your hand in the small of my back as you 
forget that you are putting it there. But as I stood and watched, I 
realized at that moment that I would never feel your hand rest casually 
on my thigh or your fingers press lovingly against my arm. I realized 
that the only way I could feel you, would ever feel you, was when your 
body pushed mine roughly against a wall while your cock slid into me and 
you whispered salacious suggestions hoarsely into my ear, or when you 
wrapped my long blond hair around your hand and pulled not quite so 
gently as you entered me from behind, making me moan and rock against 
you. I wanted these, Nicholas, but I also wanted more. I was jealous.

So I formulated the seeds of a plan that began with introducing myself 
to her. And yes, I saw the slow transformation of the expression on your 
face from one of hidden edginess to near maniacal panic as I crossed the 
room, clearly intent on Sabine. Seconds stretched to infinity between 
eye contact with Sabine and eye contact with you, and in those infinite 
seconds, I did not know what I was going to say. Are you surprised? Did 
you think I held the entire course of the rest of your life in a 
poisonous gift box deep inside my imagination, and that I would hand 
that box over to your wife with gracious humility?

No; I was as ignorant as you were. I sat beside her and started a 
journey that would lead me here. We talked, not stopping except to 
refill our drinks. Did you know that what was happening was real, that 
on that night what began as revenge transformed into friendship, and 
into love?

It was then that Sabine and I began spending time together. I can still 
see the look in your eyes when I showed up at your front door to get 
Sabine so she and I could do our Christmas shopping together. The pain 
of your hurtful eyes shot through me, and I couldn't explain the idea, 
the process, the result, and where it all went wrong. And yet, there was 
still you and I. I remember that even that night we met at a motel, the 
same one as the first time, and you pulled me into the inky darkness of 
the room, pressing your mouth against mine in anger and lust. You nearly 
ripped the clothes from my body and pushed me down onto the bed with the 
same carnal fury as you had all the times before, but this time with a 
defiant edge. I remember it -- on my hands and knees, hair falling 
forward and pooling in a golden, angelic halo over my hands and arms as 
you fucked me, crashing into me as if to fuck me away from Sabine. Is 
that why we continued, Nicholas? So that you could try, with every 
thrust of your cock, to distance me from your wife?

It may have been, Nicholas, but she knew. Although I never told her, 
there was an unspoken-of haze of sex that surrounded the three of us. 
And even though I didn't know it at the time, the further you tried to 
take me, the closer we became. It culminated one night, the last night 
we fucked in your bedroom. It was fitting, really. Did you ever know, 
Nicholas?

We were on the bed, the darkness of the room surrounding us except for 
the razor-thin sliver of hallway light that crept in. The door was open 
slightly, and you had said Sabine was going to be out of town until the 
next day. You lay under me as I took you in my mouth and began a slow 
rhythm that timed your breathing. Your fingers tangled with the strands 
of my hair as they undulated along your stomach. And then I saw her.

She stood in the doorway, silent, the backlighting of the hallway 
preventing any glimpse of her expression. But I didn't need to see it. 
In that moment, the connection between her and I took control of what I 
was doing. With your head toward the doorway, you were unaware of her 
presence. I slid your cock from out of my mouth and straddled you, in 
one movement sliding you past the lips of my pussy and as deep into me 
as you could go. I saw Sabine's hand go to the doorframe as if to steady 
herself, and as I ground my hips against yours, listening to your moans, 
I locked eyes with her, refusing to let her go. I was fucking her 
through you. I felt it, and I knew she did too, and that was when I 
grabbed a handful of your short, dark hair and, pulling your head back, 
sunk my teeth into your neck, sucking at the skin like a thirsting 
woman. Again, I locked eyes with her, moving my hips against yours to a 
faster rhythm and gripping your shoulders with my fingernails. I watched 
her breathing time itself to mine. I fucked you and fucked you, and, 
without taking my eyes from hers, came in a shattering explosion that I 
knew she could feel.

She turned into the light enough for me to see her smile.

Since that night, I have wondered many things. Why Sabine? Woman was 
never anything more to me before her than something in the mirror. And 
what was it that drove you from us? Sabine and I both watched you walk 
the halls of our lives like a restless ghost. You could have stayed, you 
know. You were a catalyst for a reaction that none of us understood but 
felt all the same. Was it the night you saw Sabine and I in your 
bedroom, profaning in the same way you and I did the sanctity of that 
stark, holy chamber? The way her hands moved over me in blessing, her 
voice whispering prayers against my neck while her fingers took holy 
water from inside me and, in a baptismal rite, licked it from her 
fingers? Was it your relegation to the role of altar boy?

I can live without the answers, Nicholas; we are happy. But I have often 
wondered one thing: can you forgive her for being happy with me?  



-------------------------------------------
Adhara Law: eros_dreams@hotmail.com
more of my stories can be read at:
http://asuwlink.uwyo.edu/~astarte/adhara




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