Heaven by Firelight

As I lay there on the floor in front of the fire place, with the ethereal sounds of Blackmill and Trentmoller saturating the air like a soft mist, I stare up at her. She is lying face down on the bench looking back at me, the afterglow showing in the reflections of the firelight in her dark, inviting eyes. There is just a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips, her right arm is draped down allowing her fingers to trace my ribs and caress my chest. As her soft, delicate fingers wander across my naked body, I close my eyes and remember moments earlier when my large calloused hands glided across her hips and thighs and back, massaging coconut oil into her pale, supple skin.

The smell of cinder and vanilla from the candles waft around us, I pull myself up and kiss her on the lips again, the taste of dark, deliciously thick honey transfer’s to my tongue and I allow it to dance there for a moment, my senses are raw and relaxed. I look up at her and her black hair has fallen across the side of her cheek, it sticks there in the sweat, only one eye, the corner of her lips and her nose peeking out from the side of the bench, I envision what the early sailors must have pictured in their dreams at night under the stars out on the open sea, when they imagined mermaids, bare chested and wet skin glimmering from ocean spray, peering out from the serf at them through the moonlight, how fantastic, how beautiful and surreal.

How lucky am I wonder, nothing else matters in that moment, just the two of us, lying naked, the heat of our bodies palpable and radiant. The aroma of honey, and coconut, it is heaven by firelight.

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