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 URS AND CATHERINE (By: Marie Humphrey) 1st Story

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Posts : 5190
Join date : 2008-12-13
Age : 62
Location : Urs Buhler, The man of my dreams!!
Humor : I found it and as always the joke is on me!!

PostSubject: URS AND CATHERINE (By: Marie Humphrey) 1st Story    Sat Sep 18, 2010 8:07 am


They had stood on the terrace for quite some time, lightly leaning against the balustrade. Their voices were silent though their minds raced with thoughts that tumbled about and played across their faces. Their eyes met. Looking into the depths of his she became bold enough to whisper, “Would that I were ten years younger, just for this one night.”

He stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders, then, returning her gaze, he cradled her face in his hands. His kiss was light, barely brushing her lips; there was no pressure of demand, only the unbearable lightness of desire and promise. “For this night, those years do not exist. Tonight I will be your lover and you will be mine. That will be the only reality—the only thing of importance.” It was just a statement of what was to be—no doubt—no hesitation—no question. It was an answer derived from wrestling with so many reasons why this relationship would be impossible only to always arrive at the same conclusion—it had to be possible—he could not envision the emptiness its nonexistence would bring.

“But in the light of morning, what will I see in your eyes?” That question had to be asked—she had to know the answer before facing that eventuality. She could not trade the prospect of a night in his arms for the possibility of enduring a future in which he would play no part. To know his touch, then never to feel it again…

“You will see passion for as long as that gift is given to us, then you will see love and friendship forever.” He answered directly, as was his nature.

“But to make love with you—those years may be erased from our minds but they cannot be erased physically.”

“The body is only the pathway to the soul and that is where we are connected. You are beautiful to me, in body and in soul.” Again he answered as to what was true in his present realm of thinking.

She kissed him then, gently. As the kiss deepened, both closed their eyes and surrendered to the moment and to each other. He relinquished her lips but gathered her in his arms and carried her into the room.

He, in the heat of passion, knew only that he loved this woman and as they made love he was certain that she must always be a part of his life—would be all things to him, lover and friend.

She knew that this passion, which raged within them, would change in nature—most assuredly for him first, but for now that need not be contemplated. Always there would be love and friendship—moments shared that no other could touch.

She was at her zenith. Her maturity, wit and charm gave her a glow and a soft beauty that was more than she had possessed in her younger years.

He was almost ten years her junior, but mature and intelligent beyond his age. Their mutual attraction at this moment in their lives was understandable and inevitable. He was drawn by her wit and charm, her ease of manner and sense of order—her delight in the romantic. These same traits in him drew her, filled her heart with love and her mind with thoughts she had believed long dead. She could only reach out and grasp them for now…

There would be no other man in her life—but he was young. The time would come when he would feel passion and love for one of his own age and that was as it should be. He would marry and have his own family and she did wish that for him—an extraordinary life filled with love. Then she would become the older friend and confidant—the fire would be banked, leaving a warm glow to carry her into eternity. The future would unfold as destiny decided. But for now, there was this night—the years of difference in their ages did not exist—thought disappeared—there was only touch and fire.

She opened her eyes as dawn began to creep through the open window. She let the lids drift closed—the dream had come again. She lay quietly savoring the remembrance. It was a dream that left a yearning deep inside and seemed more real each time it invaded her slumber. It would be easy to believe she could still feel the pressure of lips, the brush of a caress. Deciding there was no point in dwelling in fantasy, she finally turned her head on the pillow and was stunned into immobility because, looking at her, with a half smile on his face was the man from her dream. She blinked to be sure he was really there—blinked again—the beloved face was still before her.

Urs reached out his hand, tipped her head ever so slightly so that she was looking into his eyes, and there, she saw that his promise was true—passion, love, friendship—a future to be shared and savored in all of its phases. She reached out and brushed the hair from his temple, touched his shoulder, his lips. They moved in unison, closing the space between them. Through the open window, from somewhere in the distance, a melody floated on the breeze, “…I close my eyes, the moment I surrender to you.”

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URS AND CATHERINE (By: Marie Humphrey) 1st Story
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