Him And Her.
He sat there. Stiff, nervous, impatient. He tried not to move an inch, even to avoid rubbing his clothes against the wood of the armchair, or even to provoke a creaking of the piece of furniture. But it was so hard!
It was hard not to let his nervousness take control of his limbs. If only he could bob his foot up and down or tap his thigh with his fingertips. - Just the thought of this relief was unbearable. In this silence, however, any sound, no matter how insignificant, would have been deafening. So he had no choice but to nip any urge to move in the bud. When would she finally wake up? But what would be if she finally wake up? What then? He tried to suppress a sigh and instead formed an "O" with his lips to let the pent-up air escape as silently as possible.
He looked at the covered figure in front of him. The moonlight didn't reveal much about it. Mrs. Hughes lay on her side, her knees drawn up, her back turned to him. However, he noticed a slight rise and fall in her shoulder. He didn't hear anything about her breathing; it must be very gentle.
He had never seen her as fragile as she was at that moment. He had never seen her in such a personal moment. He had often thought about how she would be relaxing in her bed, but he had never experienced it. How special and sad this moment was at the same time. She seemed so small, so delicate, so worthy of protection. His heart threatened to knot at the sight of her sleeping. He sought shelter behind his eyelids and closed his eyes.
His knees began to sting, but he still didn't want to move. He tried to find a distraction and looked around. He noticed her small shoes in front of him, one tipped over, the other with just the toe of the shoe peeping out from under the bed. He was sure that this mess was due to him. He couldn't tell whether she was lying in bed in her work clothes, as he had been earlier, but he could see that her hair wasn't loose. Not all the strands seemed to be where they belonged, but the hair was certainly not undone. Once again his heart drew attention to itself with a painful squeeze. He would love to relieve the pressure with a relieving sigh. How could he yell at her like that? How could he do such a thing to her? How could he treat something so tender and loving like that?
She was already full of anticipation for tomorrow (today). The last two weeks she was as jittery as a toddler before Christmas. She was careful not to be noticed, but it was very difficult for her to. - Especially when she was alone with him. He had been fascinated by the carefree joy that she exuded more and more the closer the wedding day came. He was proud of her and of himself. On himself because he was allowed to marry her because she wanted to marry him. He had to be something special in her eyes.
She twitched jerkily but continued to sleep. This reminded him of last week, when he sat in his wing chair in his office and used a quiet minute to read. He held the book in his left hand, which he rested on one of his thighs. He didn't notice anyone coming in, he was so engrossed in the text.
She later told him that she had even clapped a few times, but that he didn't looked up from the book. She added mischievously that she had had virtually no choice but to sit on his free thigh as a matter of course.
"What are you reading?", she wanted to know.
He had to look at her and let the situation sink in before he could answer. Her appearance was too abrupt.
"What are you doing?", he asked, startled, without giving her an answer and pressed himself back against the backrest, unsettled.
"I wonder what you're reading there. Because it seems to be attracting all your attention.", she pressed her index finger into his chest. "I don't like it.", she added teasingly.
"But if someone sees us like this ... the door ... you can't ... ."
"I closed it and locked it."
He was noticeably overwhelmed by the situation. She took his face in her hands and tried to calm him down a little. It worked. He looked at her face and relaxed. He looked into her pretty eyes that seemed to hypnotise him, he noticed her wonderful lips that curved into a friendly smile and he smelled her pleasant scent that seemed to take his senses away. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Only now did he notice her pleasant weight pressing down on his leg. Both of them had never felt each other in a similar way before.
The book was forgotten and slid to the floor. With his now freed hand he pushed her pelvis further towards him. He wanted to feel more of her. Now!
At first she let him have his way, but stopped the movement when a gasp escaped her. He opened his eyes and noticed that hers were now closed. The pressure between her legs was too pleasant (too new and too undiscovered) not to notice. She was curious and shifted her weight even more onto his thigh and immediately noticed how a pleasant tingling sensation spread in her middle. He watched with interest as her initially strained facial expression gave way to one of astonishment and turned into one of desire. He felt her move her pelvis gently, trying to remain unnoticed, but the pressure of her movements against his thigh became more intense. He felt that her body pushing her mind into the background with every back and forth to take the lead. She tilted her head back, barely noticeable (but still), and bit her lower lip.
The picture that presented itself to him demanded a lot from him: her sitting on him (more like riding), her breasts bouncing slightly in front of his nose, with a clear view of her outstretched neck, the heat of her femininity on his thigh. He would love to give in to the throbbing between his legs.
Now it was he who took her face in his hands. He noticed her warmed cheeks. She paused in surprise as he leaned toward her.
"You have to stop.", he whispered in her ear as he ran his hands down her neck to her waist. He made his way with small kisses from her cheek to her mouth. This stood slightly open (in despair) and invited her in for a kiss, which he also gave her. The kiss was passionate, their tongues seemed to fight each other. He pressed her back against him again, but this time kept her there with light pressure from his hands. Her hands in turn were on his chest. When he ended the kiss, he gently pulled on her lower lip with his teeth. The feeling, the desire that arose in her, became stronger and more tormenting. She wanted more. She wanted to rub herself, she wanted to press herself against him, she wanted him to touch her.
He placed his forehead on hers, both of them with their eyes closed again and a agonising smile on their faces, breathing heavily. They waited together until their pulses returned to normal before looking at each other.
"How much longer?", she asked him, even though she knew the answer.
"Six more days."
"I love you.", she told him lovingly, stroking his cheek with one hand and standing up. She straightened her dress.
Unnoticed by her, he picked up the book and hastily placed it on his crotch.
"And I love you."
She leaned down to him once more, kissed him on the mouth and left his room again.
As soon as the rattling of her keys in the corridor had stopped, he rushed to the door with the protective book and locked it. He then needed a few minutes to himself, in complete silence.
And now? Now he had to hope that she would even look at him after the way he had treated her.
He looked out of the window. A pink streak tried to appear in the sky. Finally the night began to end.
His muscles were now cramping unimaginably, his tailbone was stinging, his feet were numb. But all this was nothing compared to the oppressive feeling that his heart was spreading through his body with every beat. It seemed to want to poison him with it.
He waited.
A while passed and the soft pink colour in the sky gave way to a confident orange. He heard birds chirping through the window. It would have been a perfect day for a wedding. For his wedding. For HER wedding. He fought back tears and clenched his jaw.
He waited.
After the play of colors in the sky was over and the sun sent its first rays into the room, she narrowed her closed eyes and turned onto her back. She felt crushed. Slowly the memories of yesterday crept back into her consciousness. She covered her face behind her hands and began to cry, trying to hold back a sob. Hot tears welled up between her fingers.
It almost broke his heart to see her like that.
"Good morning, Elsie."
