Her body shivered.

She collapsed, exhausted, her mind shattered and focused. The evening had started uneventfully. Dinner and a nice evening walking on the boardwalk. The stars had shined that night, and the glitter from her eyes had attracted his attention. She knew it was true, because he had told her so. Dinner. What a lovely time that was. The meal was succulent but not messy. For some reason, he sat next to her instead of sitting across the table. They dated once before, but she was taken aback by him sitting so close. He had asked if it was okay, and of course she nodded her consent without hesitation. She didn't know what cologne he wore, but it was a soft, gentle fragrance that tickled her fancy whenever she caught the slightest aroma. It usually occurred when he leaned close, to whisper something in her ear. She found herself aware of his breath against her ear. It was not harsh, but rather gentle and caressing. She would turn and laugh at his comments, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight flush of her skin.

He would only smile, his eyes locked on hers. She found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his, and only when the sides of his eyes would wrinkle in mirth would he turn away. Perhaps the dinner wasn't uneventful. She found herself becoming acutely aware of his touch - the gentle touch against her back, the silk of her dress teasing her skin as he gently directed her through the crowds. And, walking under the stars, his body close to hers, she became aware of every one of his movements. Her senses kicked into overdrive, and every detail began to filter into her mind. Her skin became hypersensitive to his touch: The gentle brush of his fingers against her forearm when he was emphasizing a point the quick grab of her hand when he pulled her on to the pier the feel of his chest against her breasts when they stood close under the wind of the sea to keep warm. It all began there, she realized. The foreplay, the teasing, the heightened senses. He had done so little.

A brush, a stroke, a tease, a gentle push. All of it had been so gentle and unassuming.

But all of it had aroused her. She remembered folding her arms and leaning in to him as the wind whipped her hair about her eyes. She closed them then, feeling his strong arms engulf her. She remembered feeling protected, wanted, and safe. She remembered the feeling of the muscles of his arms gently holding her, their strength tempered by gentleness. She felt happy. And then he walked her home always being the gentleman. He never pushed he never soft placeumed. Without words, he seemed to know what made her comfortable and what did not. She remembered grabbing his hand without thinking of it And remember how he had held in gently, warmly, and without comment. She'd never done this before. At her door, he merely hugged her again Warmly, without pretense and without fear. Strong, and yet gentle, the hug was the most sensual thing she could imagine. She asked him to come inside. She almost expected him to say no, but he only smiled and nodded.

She couldn't believe she asked. She never did that Her apartment was her safe haven. It was where she retreated from all the mean and nasty people in the world. It was her safety net. It was the rock that held her life together. And she so casually asked him inside.

Despite the new environment, he stood casually in her living room, smiling gently. She was breathing hard She could feel her nipples moving against the silk of her dress. She knew the nipples were getting hard, so she turned away from him abruptly, asking if he wanted a drink. Softly, his voice said yes. "Whatever you have handy, " he said. She desperately spoke of small things Anything to keep her mind from the hot flashes coursing through her skin. When she returned to the living room, he was still standing in the same spot, casually smiling at her. She quickly tried to hand him the drink. As she did so, he stepped toward her, gently taking the glass. He was close. The scent of his cologne invaded her nose, and she found she could not look at him.

Her breathing was short, and sharp, and he seemed so relaxed.

"Thank you, " he whispered. She watched the glass as it approached his lips, and he drank lightly.

He was close. Within inches of her. She looked up.

The eyes In that moment, the walls of life and survival hinged.

She found herself diving into those eyes She saw vulnerability, pain, hurt, uncertainty She realized with sudden revelation his fear and his own uncertainty. And all the while, he smiled softly. She stretched forward, her lips searching for his. She felt him lean closer but hover just outside the reach of her lips. She could faintly taste the coke and rum still on his lips from the drink she gave him. She tried to push closer, but suddenly his hand cupped her face. With strength, it was a gentle caress brushing her hair away from her face.

She closed her eyes, and leaned gentled into his palm. Casually, he brushed his hands through her hair, and her lips parted unconsciously.

She could feel him.

She felt one finger gentle touch her chin, and she opened her eyes to see him smiling. His lips touched hers, and she inhaled deeply. As they parted, his lips touched her cheek, and his finger traced down her chin, across her Adam's apple, paused at the triangle of her neck, and drifted straight down her chest. Somehow, without trying, his hands never touched her breasts. They were close, so very close, but the finger drifted down to her belly, where the whole hand suddenly cupped her sides. She exhaled suddenly as his lips brushed her earlobe, and his left hand pulled her closer. She didn't know where the glass of rum and coke had gone. And, frankly, she didn't care.

She desired him. She wanted him. Her body was aflame. No No No! a small voice screamed. I don't do this! Not me! Oh, God! She tried to pull away.

Gently, he resisted But not with demand. The resistance was gentle, but compromising.

It wasn't demanding. It was a resistance that said, "Don't go" but didn't demand it. It was as if he was saying, "You're in control.

You have no fear. But please don't go." Somehow, she wanted him more.

And then he did it. He kissed her on the nose.

She giggled and so did he. The tenseness of the moment faded away and they both fell into each other. She pulled him as close as she could And he crushed her close. She sighed, feeling safe and warm.

His arms were gently stroking the small of her back. Deep within her, a hunger and desire was building from that simple motion. She looked up at him. His eyes were loving and gentle, and his right hand suddenly moved up from her back. As they stood in the living room, his left hand holding her close, she saw his eyes drift up from hers.

His right hand gently moved toward her face, and paused a few inches away. She saw the question in his eyes, so she closed her own and leaned closer. She felt his fingers touch her eyes so ever softly And then they traced the lines of her eyebrows.

As she opened her eyes, she saw him looking at her closely, as if trying to swallow every ounce of her being. He was studying her as if this would be the last night of his life and he didn't want to forget the slightest detail of her face.

She kissed him hard, pulling him close. Now it was his turn to pull away slightly. She pushed closer, and he stayed just outside her reach. He grabbed her hand firmly and, with the left arm still just above the split of her buttocks, he guided her toward the bedroom. A moment of fear engulfed her. This wasn't her she didn't do this sort of thing. But it felt so right. Somehow, she still felt in control. At every moment, she knew she could say "No!" and he would stop. It was all up to her.

She was in control. And yet she wasn't.

Her body ached. Every sensation: Sight, smell, touch each one began to drift into overdrive. She felt a small moment of embarrassment as he saw her bed. She hadn't made it that morning and the sheets were hanging half-on and half-off.

That, too, was not like her.

It was unheard of.

As is this! a little voice warned. She didn't care. She felt herself being turned, and gently settled on the bed.

He knelt in front of her, his eyes still fixed on her own. She realized how handsome he was. His features carried the mirth of youth with the lines of wisdom. His eyes were pools of desire and passion. He wanted her, but he didn't want to take her. She noticed his own breathing was deeper and fuller. As he kneeled in front of her, she widened her legs, grabbed him by the shoulders, and tried to pull him close. He resisted, and as he did so, she felt the muscles of his back ripple against her fingertips. The resistance was not sharp just enough to slow the eventual collision of their lips. His hands were on her sides near her stomach, and she felt them drift upward, teasing, touching, tickling. She giggled slightly, and then gasped as his thumbs touched the very sides of her breasts. She moaned softly.

Now, she thought, God I want him now. She reached for the buckle of his slacks. As she did so, she found herself intercepted gently. He leaned toward her ear. Slowly, " he whispered. She shuddered. "Slowly, " he repeated. He diverted her own hands downward to her own legs, where both their hands touched her knees. His lips gently touched her chin as, together, they caressed her inner thigh. Slowly, so incredibly desirably slowly, their hands moved upward on the right inner thigh. No No No, she thought, I'm supposed to be undressing him! Oh..! How had this happened? She was in control - and yet he directed everything.

Suddenly, she felt his lips between her breasts. She had been so absorbed by their hands caressing her thighs that she had almost missed the erotic touch of his warm, moist lips between her breasts. The long, silky black dress had shown an appropriate amount of cleavage without being too revealing.

Now, it allowed her to feel the slight tickles of his five-o'clock shadow against her skin. She wanted him to kiss her nipples. The thought of feeling those lips against the silk of the dress made her arch her back and her left hand entwined itself in his hair, pushing, pulling, and demanding his lips to her breasts. Again, he resisted. His mouth hovered above her right nipple, and she could feel his hot, warm breath against her. She pushed harder. She needed to feel his lips.

She must have those lips against her. Her body ached in want and need. And then she became distracted, because his hand, somehow released from her own, that was so casually caressing her inner thigh, brushed across her groin so faintly, so lightly, that it tickled the only the hairs of that part most aroused. She gasped, and couldn't breathe.

At that moment, his lips touched her nipple, and she felt, through the silk, his warm, wet tongue against her breast. Her legs suddenly wrapped themselves around him and pulled him close. She could feel him, now. She could feel his own desire waiting to be released. He was straining, she realized, to keep control. Using her legs, she pulled him to her, and then whispered into his ear, "Slowly my soft place. I want you now.

Oh God, Now!" He teased her. Ever so gently, he was there, always teasing and tantalizing.

Her body burned, her body cried out. When he was there, he teased. He did not take her completely. He teased, instead. Ever so little, he would tease. He would take her slightly, and then withdraw, only to take her a little bit more each time. She panted. She moaned.

She begged. She wanted so much more, and he was holding back. Her body became like an ocean breaking across a reef, except that he kept her balanced at the edge of cliff. Every time she thought her body would break across the reef, he would pull her back. Time and again he held her perilously close, teasing the edge of the satisfaction. But it never came. She was so close, and yet he held her at that edge like the edge of a knife. She needed it. Her mind began to shut down. No other thoughts could enter her mind except the smell of his body and hers mixed together.

The soft scent of vanilla, from the air freshener in the wall, occasionally mixed with the smell of their sweat. Never in her life had an orgasm started in the depths of her body. She had an orgasm before, but always it was outside in. "Please please please, " she had begged. "Ooooh, please" she had whispered. And then it began. From deep within her soul it erupted. From the inside out, her body crashed against the shore of orgasm, growing from her soul and enveloping every last pore of her body. Like an earthquake of after shocks, the orgasm rippled to her toes and her fingers and the very tips of hairs of her head.

And like the ripples in a bathtub, the orgasm ricocheted back toward her middle and her soul.

Over and over her body crashed, the orgasm completely encompassing her mind. She was only faintly aware of his gasps. Suddenly, the waves of pleasure miraculously intensified again as she could feel his orgasm crash in to her body. Her back arched and her breathing stopped. Her eyes were closed, her mouth opened, and her body shivered and trembled.

For an eternity, the increasing orgasm racked every part of her body.

Everything in her mind collapsed, and nothing, nothing at all mattered.

Her fingers went numb. Her toes curled.

And she felt everything. Her mind was shattered Her mind was focused. Eventually, the waves subsided. But she could not tell how long it had been. Over and over, the waves had crashed into and through her body. Over and over, she had grasped him, pulled him, and become one with him. For a brief, shining moment She felt her soul entwine completely and totally with his. She felt their souls kiss, become one, entwine and make love. Her entire life, she had felt something was missing. And now she was whole.

She felt happy she felt safe. She knew he accepted her with all she was. She knew her hidden desires were open to him.

All she was became his. As the passion subsided, he whispered in her ear, "This is only the beginning." She could only breathe. "Next time, " he said, "Together we shall explore your hidden desires, your desires of multiple stimulation." His simple statement, his simple statement of fact, as if he somehow already accepted and understood her deepest, darkest and most unknown secrets, took her by surprise.

She had told no one.

Ever. But he had known. Somehow, he knew her. And with that statement, she took him again. ---- Men and ships rot in port. - Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson