Tales from an Unknown Corner
Chapter 57A: Sunset

Copyright© 2003 by Dai_wakizashi

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 57A: Sunset - Some men, men like you and I, take the same road home every night. Some men take the road less traveled. Some men take a wrong turn, and spend years lost in the cold, dark woods. Some men, if they're lucky, someday find their way home. A very lucky few may even meet angels on the way. This story starts very slowly in those woods. It's intimate and contemplative, with plot, characters and sex that will appeal to introspective readers and reward their patience. Be Patient! hint: ch-6, an angel?

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting   Sex Toys   Slow  

We need to talk!

GOD! I can't believe she said that!

I stiffened momentarily before I resumed running my hands on her back. Yeah, I knew we needed to talk, but...

My mind was running a hundred miles an hour, trying to figure out what the problem was, what caused her so much distress, before my thoughts swung to a darker territory...

Did I do something wrong? If I did, then what?

My hands were still working on their own, on automatic pilot as if detached from my body. As I kept pondering the various questions, I realized I needed to respond to her.

"Then we will, my love. Whenever you want to," I whispered trying to impart some comfort, surprising myself with how calm I sounded. Gaining a modicum of normalcy I kissed the top of her head again, and held her tightly to let her know I would be there for her. Inside, I hardly felt the same self-confidence that my words and actions tried to convey to her.

To tell the truth, I was scared, when, once again, my thoughts strayed toward a gloomy direction; I just couldn't seem to stop myself. It was as if invisible tentacles reached out from a chasm and caught me, before beginning to pull me deeper into shadowy, murky depths.

Is this the beginning of the end?

Not again. Please! Not again!

I don't want to lose you, Dana. I need you. I love you. I just found you and...

She squirmed in my arms, and I relaxed my embrace. Pulling back, she looked up, her eyes a brilliant blue, depthless, and as she waited expectantly—for a kiss?—I was preparing myself for what might be coming up. I tried to memorize her eyes, her face, drinking in her sight, burning that image into a secluded corner of my mind.

Something from past to be treasured in the future for what it had once been, however brief... when I might need something to warm my heart on a cold night... remembering you! Remembering a friend, a lover! Remembering someone who touched my heart at one time... a short stop-over as one journeys from place to place...

My thoughts were derailed when she rose up on her tiptoes and pulled me down for a kiss. I responded, but my insides were still in turmoil. Slowly her kiss deepened, taking hold of me, enveloping me, and I went with it.

Yes, I love you, Dana. I'm glad I've come to know you. Whatever happens I'm glad I've met you.

When her soul kiss ended, we kept exchanging soft little kisses, nibbling each other's lips, reluctant to part. At least I was reluctant to part, but in the end she extricated herself from my embrace. We stood gazing into each other's eyes. Then, she hooked her arm to mine, and we crossed the yard, heading to the opposite side across from the restaurant, where the sun was getting ready to dip below the horizon, hidden behind the clouds, visible only as a pale disc. The horizon was misty, further dispersing the light.

There were wooden benches placed some distance away from the edge of the hill, and she steered us to one of the benches to watch the sunset. Close to the edge, the wind was stronger and colder. The few large rocks strewn around us and the short, stubby trees didn't offer any protection from the wind and the cold. When a strong gust hit us I felt her shiver. She snuggled closer, seeking some warmth, but it didn't help much. Leaving her seated on the bench, I went looking for a sheltered place. Although the edge had a somewhat steep slope, I knew there were several natural recesses where large boulders had broken off, or where the little bit of shrubbery failed in its fight against the erosion by wind and rain. After a quick look around, I returned when I found an easily accessible spot that was relatively protected from the wind.

"There's a sheltered spot down there," I said, and received a nod.

I helped her down the slope, and she sat down on a flat piece of rock. I told her I would bring the coffee, and climbed up the slope. I returned with the thermos in my hand, and the brandy and chocolate bars in the pockets of my windbreaker. Carefully, I negotiated my way down the slope. Dana stood up and took the thermos from me, indicating that she wanted me to sit. Then she plopped down on my lap. We weren't completely sheltered from the wind, but at least it was blowing only from one direction, so I positioned myself to block most of the wind. Eventually we were comfortably settled in this little secluded spot to watch the sunset.

The view was perfect. The sea was littered with big and small islands, and the sun—now, a pale, silvery disk—was dipping lower in the horizon with the passing of each second. I knew it wasn't going to be one of those magnificent sunsets when the sun looked like a huge round tray that served a platter of colors in shades of gold, red, and purple. Sometimes, the tiniest bit of it would flare out briefly; a glorious momentary flash of red just before it sank below the horizon and disappeared from view. A cosmic wink! And behind it, it would leave an echo, an afterimage that fought to linger, an afterglow, a pale imitation of what had once been! After an inevitable and futile battle, the shades of orange and red would begin to diffuse and surrender to the encroaching dusk. Purple would give way to a translucent blue, as if someone had lit up a small candle behind a blue lace veil. An eerie glow would linger ghostly in the distance for quite some time, slowly going faint as if the candle had grown shorter, while the distance would take on a darker tone, removing what few colors that had remained, changing them into a dark blob. Finally, eventually, the darkness would arrive.

Today, however, it wasn't going to be one of those sunsets! The pale silvery disk looked small, too small, as if it was somehow diminished, as if it was too tired to fight the cloud cover and distant haze, or to break free and avoid being suffocated! It looked lonely and lost; a far cry from its summer time glory!

Just as well!

I was remembering the last time I had been here. Mom, Gil's mom, Kathy, Gil, Rei, and I... I could see us—as if it was only yesterday—not far from where Dana and I were sitting now, not too far from the edge, right at the top. Mom and Gil's mom were sitting on a bench, drinking tea, Mom with a cigarette in between her fingers. Kathy and Gil were standing a bit further away from them to their left, closer to the edge of the slope, looking down at the little islands. Rei was standing to their right and slightly behind them. I was couple of feet away from them, further to their left, with one foot on a small rock, leaning over my crossed wrists resting on my bent knee. Islands on the yard! That was what we looked like then. Close but separated from each other—not only physically.

Rei kept fighting the wind, sweeping her locks back every time the wind whipped them around her face. Kathy had shorter hair then, cut at neck-level framing her beautiful and expressive face, and Gil had a scarf tied around her head, so they didn't have a problem. For a while, I kept watching Rei from the corner of my eye, and felt resentment slowly building up inside me. It looked and felt like she was putting on a show, trying to attract attention. I tried to ignore her and watch the sunset, but...

Slowly, the resentment I felt turned into something warm: a foretaste of things to come! Something I had forgotten about a long time ago; something I had made a brief acquaintance with, during a painful and troublesome period of my life when I had been too young. But I would come to know it again in the not so distant future, and more intimately than I could have imagined. When hurt, pain, and self-recrimination would get to be too much, when I could find nothing else to keep me going, when I needed to fill in a growing emptiness inside me, anger would be all that I would come to know. Oh, yes, I would come to know it so very well, and on rare occasions, I would come to relish its searing heat warming my insides! But right now, I didn't know that was what was awaiting me in the near future, and this was just a little taste of it, a little sample. It filled my insides like an empty well fills after a drought when slowly seeping rainwater makes its way through the fissures and the pores. That was perhaps the first time I had begun to realize the beginnings of emptiness inside me or the growing coldness in the pit of my stomach. And it wasn't the slightly cool breeze that made me shiver, but knowing that the summer had ended... my summer ended and I had... I had lost...

I had lost my—

It reminded me of another time, a few years back, when I heard it the first time without understanding what was meant...

This town is for the ones who lost their hearts in the Aegean!

...

"This town," the old man wheezed, "it is for those who lost their hearts in the Aegean." He was past 70 well on the way to his 80s, his spine slightly bent from carrying that body for decades, fighting the wind, the elements, half his life spent on a fishing boat, and the other half in this little corner of an old coffee-house that his son owned, his voice a wispy croak, yet soothing in its ageless quality. He took a long puff from his narghile, and a quiet bubbling noise rose from its glass smoke chamber filled with water. It was a peculiar sound with a soothing, hypnotic quality that served to calm the nerves.

I took in his weathered face. Wrinkles upon wrinkles, and deeply etched lines, lines that stood witness to his trials. His eyes were the only thing that looked alive, alight with a miniscule fire. He returned my quizzical, appraising look with a gentle detachment: a calm interest lacking the passion of youthful impatience that was reserved only for the old. For a brief moment, I couldn't help but wish I had my camera with me to capture those eyes and the narghile he was smoking. They made for a classic, picture perfect moment that spoke of sleepy contentedness and of serene acknowledgment of dusk approaching, but denied any sign of surrender or resignation, especially his eyes.

"This is the place where hearts are lost," he said after he let out a puff of smoke and used the mouthpiece in a short sweeping motion to indicate the harbor scenery.

I took a sip from my tea while mulling his words, intrigued why he had chosen me to strike a conversation, and why he talked in riddles.

"Do they ever find their hearts?" I asked curious about his answer, but unsure if I knew what I was asking or would understand his answer. I thought he was referring to the fishermen who died in bad weather and fishing accidents.

"Some," he replied. "If they are lucky."

When he didn't elaborate, I prompted him. "And if they aren't?"

He shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes briefly. A pregnant silence followed before he responded. "Then they're lost forever."

Lost forever? Lost where... how... why?

I tried to make some sense of his words, but I was confused. I saw him take another puff from the mouthpiece and more bubbling sounds came out from the narghile, distracting me further.

"She's a wicked mistress... that one. Seduces the unwary... steals the hearts of the young and the innocent..." the words came out, clipped and unhurried. He continued slowly as if talking to himself. "So many she took... so many..."

I made another attempt. "I don't understand."

"No one understands," he replied. "She keeps her secrets. She always has."

I was feeling impatient and his words confounded me. I thought he was a rambling old man.

"You're young and curious," he said and his gaze lingered on my face. His eyes flared briefly, before the light in them faded as if a switch was thrown... "But you're cautious. That's good. Watch out for her," he said as if he had read something on my face.

And that was the end of our one-sided conversation. He closed his eyes and somehow I knew I shouldn't disturb him. So, I settled down, and watched him and the scenery. At infrequent intervals he took puffs from the mouthpiece, looking asleep, or thinking, or... I returned to my tea wondering what he had been talking about.

...

The sun was setting. A softly glowing big ball of red and orange, its bottom half already sunk beneath a faint line, blurred and made indistinct by the red glow. I caught sight of Rei again, briefly, her left arm raised holding her hair in a bundle, and watching the sunset, and yet, I had the feeling she was posing for my benefit. She had an old shirt on. It was an off-white, checkered, sleeveless shirt, the black squares faded from too many washings. She wore it frequently, and I loved to see her wearing it. Although it hugged her form, it did hide the size of her breasts, only giving a hint of the womanly curves, making you wonder what lay underneath it. Right now, as she stood sideways to me with her arm raised, I had a clear shot at her clean shaven armpit and below it the strap of her bra. Her bra encased breast was mostly hidden from view, but it stood high and proud, clearly delineated beneath the cloth.

I felt a stirring in my groin despite my growing resentment. After all, I knew only too well that they were perfectly shaped orbs, just the right size for her slender frame. Every curve, every line about her was perfectly sculpted. With some difficulty, I averted my eyes and turned back to watch the setting sun. I didn't want to think about her, didn't want to remember how she looked, how she felt, how she smelled, how she...

With a shake of my head I tried to break free from her, from the spell she cast, and concentrate my attention on the scenery. The more I got immersed in the view the faster the sun seemed to sink. It almost felt like I could hear a soft sigh, the Aegean whispering words of endearment as she embraced her lover and prepared to put him to sleep...

A final flare, then it was gone!

"Keep them safe," I found myself whispering, remembering the words of an old man. "Keep those hearts safe for they lost it here, seduced by your beauty," I added softly as if saying a prayer, finally getting a glimpse of what he might have meant in that coffee-house by the harbor a few years back.

As for me... I didn't know what or how much I lost, and to what. Inside, I felt strangely hollow. If part of me was left here, in these timeless waters that was all right with me. The rest? I didn't know where the rest was.

Time to go!

Yes! I think it's time to go. I better book a ticket.

"Mitch, coming?"

I turned to the voice. Kathy stood a few feet away with an expectant expression on her face while the rest of our group made their way to the restaurant. I shook my head before I turned back to stare at the sea. The sky and the sea looked like entwined lovers, the horizon aglow, but indistinct, except a minute change in the shade of reds and purple. A little twinge of envy struck me right then, but disappeared as quickly as it came. I drank in the view as if I had an endless thirst.

Nope. I'm leaving. I'm leaving first thing in the morning.

If I can find a seat in one of the buses...

...

"... were you saying?"

I felt a hand on my cheek, and blue eyes greeted me when I turned my gaze away from the slowly sinking pale disc beneath a hazy horizon, mostly hidden behind the clouds.

"What were you saying?" the voice insisted.

"Huh?"

"You were mumbling something," Dana said.

That brought me to present!

"Was I? I don't recall saying anything..." I trailed off, wondering if I had—

"Yes you were. Something about losing something..."

Shit!

"I must have been quoting an old man," I temporized trying to compose myself. I wasn't over my short trip in memory lane.

"What did he say?" Dana inquired when I didn't continue.

"People losing themselves to the beauty of the Aegean," I replied, slightly changing his words. "This place always reminds me of how beautiful it really is. Unfortunately today, we're not having much luck in regards to that beauty," I added in an attempt to change the direction of our conversation.

How appropriate! The last time I was here, it had been golden. Now, it's cold silver and steel gray.

The comparison made me feel melancholic.

"But it is beautiful," she replied. "It's amazing. All these little islands," she said with a sweep of her hands as she turned to look at them again. Pointing at a very small one, she continued. "You can build a small house with a garden, there. It's just the right size."

"And bail water several times a week?" I retorted. "It's just a little outcrop."

"No, it's not," she insisted. "There's shrubbery and plants. Nothing grows in soil if salt water attacks it."

"Maybe you're right."

"I know I'm right."

Yes, you're right, Dana, and I'm wrong.

Am I wrong for you, too? Is this what it is about?

I tried to put the thoughts aside, but it felt like we were having a quiet argument, probing, testing...

I let out a sigh, suddenly feeling tired.

"Let's have some coffee," Dana said, reaching for the thermos.

We shared the cap of the thermos, taking sips, and Dana had a bar of chocolate, and a few swallows from the brandy. She looked like she was preoccupied, and I waited patiently, while trying to calm myself. It took quite an effort, and even then I couldn't say I was calm; I just couldn't find my center. I realized I hadn't exercised in the last several days.

No jogging, no Tai Chi, no meditation.

No nothing!

In the end, I settled for getting rid of as much tension as I could and the melancholy.

As if on cue, Dana stood up, took a few steps away, and continued to watch the scenery. Although surprised, I let her have her private moment, suspecting she was trying to compose herself, before she told me whatever she had in mind. Slowly she turned around, and finally broke the silence. "I have something to tell you, Mitch."

It wasn't a very promising start, but I managed to clamp hard on my growing anxiety, while I wondered where she was going with that. I nodded, waiting for her to continue, but the silence grew. Eventually I had to prompt her. "It's all right, Dana. Please, talk to me."

I offered my hand, but she ignored it, standing her ground a few steps away from me. I almost had a déjà vu.

"I-I did something I'm not proud of," she said.

Did? What could you do that makes you feel so uneasy?

"I find that hard to believe," I said to encourage her, while racking my brain to figure out what could make her feel so tense, almost scared.

She winced, as she heard my words, and took a deep breath. "I... I saw your notebook."

Notebook? What note— Oh, God! Oh shit!

But how? When?

I couldn't speak. I felt the color drain from my face, and to tell the truth it was good that I was sitting down. There was a buzz in my ear, and I had no idea whether it was the howl of the wind or the blood in my veins. I felt... I didn't know what I felt. I just couldn't believe it. Then I was falling into a deep well. I tried to fight my way out of it, but the deeper I fell into that chasm, the less scared I was becoming. Everything seemed to cease: the butterflies in my stomach, the heavy pressure on my chest...

I felt her hand touching my hand, and warm lips closed on mine. Still, I could hardly respond to her. My descent into darkness slowed as I felt her lips lock harder to mine, her kiss deepening. It was as if she had thrown me a lifeline; her soul-kiss reached me through the darkness. And yet, I didn't want to reach for it. There was comfort in that chasm, in that darkness, and safety in its depths, far away from the bright light that shone on everything, hurting the eyes, revealing ugliness in all its starkness everywhere, and yet, obscuring beauty with its intense glow. No! That dark well wasn't the empty well of darkness that the Void was—devoid of emotion, feelings, conscious thought, alien and foreboding! On the contrary, this was an old shelter I knew very well. After all, I had known its numbing coldness for a while. Some might say, "what a strange place to call a shelter," but a shelter it was, helping ease my pain, my hurt, yet allowing me to stoke the fires of anger to keep me warm, alive, and letting me survive, away from prying eyes and danger.

The lips left my lips, the hand withdrew.

Why did you do it?

That was the question that popped up first in my mind when I could hear myself think among the cacophony of other thoughts fighting for my attention, but I was having difficulty voicing it. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths.

 
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