The Defining Touch

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Artist Mabel Rollins Harris; photo: pinterest

Romantic flash fiction:

In a secluded cove, on a grassy knoll, in broad daylight, we declared our love for each other with our writhing bodies. While her long blonde hair cascaded past her bare shoulders in sensual curls like waves of a waterfall, my mouth devoured her full lips as her nails dug into my back. Every surf and billow that pounded the beach behind us in rhythmic patterns charged the influx of the delectation that ripped through our bodies like voltaic rupture. In the waves came and retreated back out again, caressing the delicate shore, their cadence a melody from which we lost ourselves momentarily, never wanting to leave. When exertion and bliss had finally climbed its way to the summit, we convulsed in the euphoria that enveloped us from the inside and forced out cries of elation from somewhere deep within.

Afterwards, as I lay with my back against the sea-drenched rocks on the beach, holding her in my arms as she leaned back against me, we chortled together at how the waves had followed the patterns of our lovemaking. Now they were calm and placid and their white foam rolled up the sand like a blanket of soft goose feathers.

My fingers teased through her hair and I kissed the top of her head, while she leaned back against me, lightly held my strong arm, and expelled a long, contented moan.

“Being here with you has been a dream come true,” she said as we both watched the waves creep up the sand to tickle her toes.

“For me, too, Violet,” I replied.

Sliding her warm skin against my body, she turned to face me, and the feel of her body on mine sent streaks of heat coursing through every part of my anatomy. But when I looked closer, I noticed her elegant green eyes welling with tears. “I’m sorry I did what I did,” she confessed. “Not today. I mean all those years ago. I never meant that it would tear us apart. I want you to know that.”

My heart was so elated at this revelation that for a moment, I was speechless and didn’t know how to respond. Then I smiled and shook my head slowly. “Oh, my dear Violet,” I said as I stroked her hair with gentle fingers by her cheek. “Don’t you know that every day since then I have dreamed of the day when I could take you away and tell you all that is in my heart? I love you more now than I loved you then, if that’s even possible. What you did broke my heart, but it never broke my hope. I never doubted for a second that one day you and I would be together again. And here we are. That’s all that matters. That’s all I want. But how about you?” I asked her. “What do you want? What is your wildest dream? Let me give it to you and top it if I can.”

“All I want,” she said through tears, “is to hear you say you love me again. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

I peered deeply into her vulnerable eyes and kissed her tenderly on her salty lips. “I love you, Violet. I always have and I know nothing will ever change that.”

As the soft ocean foam covered our legs, our mouths met again. That day, in our secluded cove, where the sun caressed our naked bodies, we kissed like lovers who knew, without the shadow of a doubt, what the defining touch truly was. It was not in clinging to the past, but in letting go and letting love have its way in our hearts, expressing itself in the song of hope.

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30 thoughts on “The Defining Touch

  1. The entire thing is beautiful
    Well written and a romantic passionate expression of lovers love and desire for one another. Extremely wonderful I liked beginning too ver impassionate. But, there was is sweet bliss.

    Liked by 1 person

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