The sky was so very blue the day his heart cracked open. So very blue.
“Come home with me, Rachel,” he said. “Please.”
She was silent for a very long moment. They were sitting in his Porsche, overlooking the Mediterranean. It was October on the French Riviera. He held his breath.
“But I can’t” she whispered softly. “You know I can’t.”
And yes, it was true, he did know it. He knew she couldn’t. In fact, he’d even said it from the beginning – that she would have to go back. But still he felt how the shaft of pain tore at his heart. And even if he knew that he knew it all along, even if he knew it from the beginning, he remembered the softness of her skin in his big white bed. She had been a delicate flower, somehow fresh and vulnerable and new for him in a way that he’d never experienced before.
Her lips were warm and sensual. Her breasts, lovely, perfect. Her pussy, waiting, welcoming… And then there was her presence, her fluidity, her openness. The sumptuous hair that framed her lovely face.
It took his breath away. She took his breath away. She was so there, so right for him. Why did she have to go?
They had had two days of uninterrupted magic, strangely enough, in the midst of all the turmoil and chaos. When time stood still. An anomaly – as if a freak of nature had occurred, or so it seemed, when the Universe stood still for them. And for those two days out of time, Albert and Rachel had belonged utterly to each other.
For some strange reason, he remembered her sitting by his pool, dangling her feet in the water. He wanted to take her in his arms, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He sensed the gathering of tears in her eyes, tears that did not come.
“Oh Rachel,” he sighed. “We were doing so nicely…” The sky was so very blue that day. “… so nicely,” he said again as his words disappeared into the very blueness of that October sky.
He was no longer sure if the tears he felt coming were in his eyes or hers, so entwined were they at that moment. So incredible had their meeting been, however short lived it was.
Truly you cannot know what’s in another’s heart, he thought, and yet at that moment, he was quite sure he did. Quite sure he knew Rachel and knew what she was thinking and feeling as if she was his very own self. The silence between them was deep and loving.
But then her words cut through the warm October air, waking him from his dream of love undying, “You were right from the beginning, Albert, I have to go back… I have to.”
When he heard her words, he turned on the engine and drove fiercely back to the hotel where she was staying with Stefan. He didn’t say another word, but there was real pain in his eyes when he kissed her goodbye.
Two days later, she had gone back to Amsterdam on her own, leaving Albert and Stefan behind.
Excerpt from “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale” by A. Aimee
Amazon link: http://amzn.to/1ron5ee