I park the car and get off. I look up to see a sight that takes my breath away. It’s a small but beautiful house. I walk up to the tiny wicket gate. An overgrown canopy of creepers arch over the entrance making the sight prettier than ever. I briefly wonder if I must take this risk. My mind goes back to our conversation of three hours ago.

I am in the middle of cleaning up when my phone rings. Annoyed at the interruption, I glance at it with the intention of silencing it and continuing with my work. I freeze at the name of my display. After the happenings of the last fifteen days, you are the last person I expect a call from. My tears threaten to break barriers. I thought this was over. A cold rage seizes me. What gave you the right to expect me to answer your call or speak to you when you’ve broken my trust in you?

I briefly consider ignoring the call and realise with a jolt that I’m not quite capable of that just yet. I reach over to answer the call with a calmness that belies the storm raging inside me. “Give me a chance to say sorry. Please.” These words trip over themselves in a desperation to make themselves heard. I give in.

Three hours later, here I am. In front of your house, following the directions you gave me. I consider turning around and driving back the three hours it took me to get here, to the comfort of my own home. But I also know the storm inside me will not calm until I face this.

I push past the wicket gate and under the canopy of creepers. I look around, taking in the beauty. The house feels familiar. Like you. Like home. The rains, the greens, the hills: they remind me of us. It’s somehow fitting that you asked me to come here instead of meeting me in a coffee shop in the plains.

I walk up the cobbled pathway to the verandah. I am still wondering if I should ring the bell or call your phone when I realise you’re right there, standing at the doorstep waiting patiently for me. My eyes meet yours and light up in a smile, almost involuntarily. I forget the last fortnight, the pain, the hurt. A part of me wants to fight and rage. The other part however, wants exactly the opposite. You smile back. A smile that would melt the most stubborn heart. You hold your hand out, as if asking me to put my hands in them. I sidestep. The internal struggle between rage and forgiveness is still raging inside me. You step aside to let me in.

I enter the house and freeze again. It’s exactly like I would have wanted my house to be. The furniture, the carpets, the little fireplace, the recliner next to it, the bookshelves, the décor. Everything. The struggle ends. I can no longer rage or fight. You offer your hand once again. This time, there is no hesitation. I take it in mine and come closer. I reach up and cup your face, and draw you into a deep kiss. You return my kiss with a passion that conveys every emotion you need to convey. This time, I know I can never leave you. I know that the fights, the arguments and the tears are only temporary. What’s permanent is this. This longing, this need for each other. We both know that we will never leave the other, no matter what happens.

You move your hands down my body, drawing me closer. You press yourself against me, conveying the desperate need for me. Outside, it begins to pour again. We can hear a storm raging outside the window. The heat inside however, it unbearable. I kiss you again, this time all over your face, your neck, your shoulders. I don’t want this to end. I want to offer all I have to you and make you mine. Tonight and forever. My kisses seem to trigger a very different kind of storm inside you. You become more aggressive, more demanding. My body responds to your every demand, as if anticipating it. You tug at my shirt, ripping off the buttons in one go. You guide me to the rug in front of the fireplace and lay me down gently.

My skin reflects the glow of the fireplace. You take charge and kiss me. You kiss every inch of my skin, exposing each part before giving it the love it deserves. The moistness between my legs and the swell of my breasts tell you exactly how much I want you. I raise my hips slightly offering you my body. You take it without hesitation, worshipping it in a way you’ve never done before. I melt into you, unable to offer any further resistance.

Hours later, we lie still in front of the fireplace, the dying embers still offering some warmth. You bring the quilt around us and hug me tighter. “Don’t leave me, babe. I will never be able to live with myself if you do. And forgive me for everything.” I respond to you by snuggling in closer. I know I will never leave you or push you away. No matter what happens.

You gently hug me from behind, blowing into my hair, kissing my nape. Goosebumps erupt on my skin as I feel the most pleasurable sensations. Your hands seek my hips, caressing them softly. I sigh. You turn me around and look deep into my eyes. My heart stops.

You take my fingers and kiss them deeply. You linger over each finger, taking your time, tasting them. I feel a warm dampness between my legs.

Your left arm is firmly secured around my hips, keeping me close to your body. Your right is making love to my fingers. The dampness between my legs grows. Every fibre of my being yearns for more.

I press my hips against you, letting you know, subtly, that I want more. You take my hint. You reluctantly release my hand and move on. You move up my arms, kissing, nibbling. You kiss my shoulders, my neck. You kiss the top of my breasts. My breasts swell in response.

You nuzzle my cleavage, taking in my scent. My arousal peaks. You are in no mood to hurry. You move from my cleavage to the side of my breast. You kiss it. And then, you bury your face under my arms and take in my scent, a heady mix of perfume and me. I am in heaven.

Our bodies glisten with a fine layer of sweat, sweat that results from the heat of our passion. We are still fully dressed. You seem determined to make me climax with just your lips/fingers. You lift my tee and caress my waist. You probe my navel with your thumb.

I buckle under you. My desire is now peaking. My body needs to be satisfied. I hold you tight and say, “take me.” You smile and say, “Not so soon, my love.”

You gently lay me back on the bed & flick your tongue across my navel. I draw in a sharp breath. You hold my hips firmly with both your hands and kiss it, a deep, intense and wet kiss. My womanhood explodes in a million colours.

Tears of joy threaten to flow. I don’t hold them back. My fingers are in your hair, playing with them as my body responds to your touch. Your fingers caress the abdomen just below my navel. You tug the pants down and touch my most intimate folds. The touch pushes me over the edge. You feel the intensity of my climax.

You quickly put your left arm around my shoulder and bring me close. As my breasts meet your chest, I let myself go. You then bring your lips to mine, smothering me with your passion as I experience the most intense orgasm in a very long time.

Exhausted, I fall back on the bed. You smile, kiss me again and say, “We’re just getting started my darling.” And my body tenses again.

I touch you tentatively. You flinch at first, and then, as if taking a decision, nod at me, giving me permission to touch. I come close. I hold you close, my fingers gently cupping your shoulders, my right hand on your chest. You move gracefully to the sound of music.

I’m surprised. I didn’t know you danced. Your hand rests firmly on the small of my back, gently guiding my movements. I look up. Your eyes are almost closed, as though enjoying the pleasure of the moment. I can’t resist. I reach up and kiss your jawline.

A slow smile spreads on your lips as you open your eyes. You pull me in closer, as if to ask, “what next?” I’ve made my decision. Tonight is mine. I kiss you deeply, my fingers running through your hair. You return my kiss, with a passion that makes me believe you wanted this for longer than you cared to admit.

Your arms tighten around my waist, drawing me in. I can feel your desire, and my heart does a victory dance. I glance quickly around the room and realise that nobody is quite bothered if we’re there. As if reading my mind, you nod and pull me along towards the exit.

I can hardly contain my emotions, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. I hand over my parking card to the valet and wait. All the while, your arms are firmly around my hips, as if to reassure me that all will be well. As the car arrives, you take the keys and slide into the driver’s seat. I’m surprised, and don’t quite know what to expect. You take my hand and hold it to your chest for a second before starting. Twenty mins later, you’ve pulled into an apartment I’m unfamiliar with.

You park, come around and open my door as I sit frozen. It’s your place, it dawns on me. You’ve brought me home. Home. Not a nondescript hotel room. This begins to take on a whole new meaning. I get down from the car and fall into step with you. Minutes later, I’m in a beautiful apartment. It’s obvious that you live alone, but it’s exactly like I’d have wanted it to be: cozy, intimate. It’s clear that this is your space. Everything here feels like you. Feels like home.

As you shut the door behind us, I feel the excitement return. My heart races as you once again pull me close to you. And now, it’s no holds barred. I kiss you again, this time more passionately, more surely. My fingers caress your neck, wishing you weren’t wearing so many layers. You break the kiss and whisper into my ear, “Tonight, I surrender to your will.”

I need no more invitation. I unbutton your shirt, and run my fingers on your bare chest. You moan softly. I look up into your eyes to see raw passion. I realise with a jolt how much and how long I have wanted this. For as long as we have known each other, I’ve wanted this intimacy.

You unzip my dress, letting it fall in a heap around my feet. Now I know there’s no going back. I kiss you again, not getting enough of you. My own desires are impossible to deny. I know yours is too. You smell like soap and aftershave and a perfume that’s uniquely you. I reach down and undo your belt, letting your pants fall. You oblige by stepping out if it, and lifting me in one swift motion out of my clothes. Now, it’s just you and me.

I’m almost crying in anticipation and desire. You snap my bra open, even while gently guiding me to your room. We leave a trail of clothes in our wake, expensive garments carelessly discarded in the heat of desire. I pull you in, wrap one leg around your hips and nibble your earlobe. I hear a sharp intake of breath that indicates how pleasurable it is for you. I gently push you back on the bed and take charge.

I kiss every inch of you, relishing the feel of your skin, the hardness of your muscles and the heat of your desire. I can see you beginning to lose control. I see the lust in your eyes, threatening to overshadow everything else. I decide not to tease you any more.

I straddle your hip, gently guiding you into me. You gasp. You moan. And then, swept up in a wave of desire, you begin to stroke. I’m still in control but I realise that it’s not going to last much longer. You’re on the edge. You take control. I relinquish mine. As you take me, I ride on wave after wave of pure pleasure. Our bodies glisten with sweat despite the air conditioning.

Finally, you allow yourself to climax, filling me deep inside. Exhausted, I fall back onto the sheets. You draw me closer, pulling the sheet around us. As we fall asleep, I only see a contented smile on your face, signalling that this was an important line to cross.