Black.

The darkness orchestrated the intimacy of the room. A cloak of suspense covered their eyes. No need to wear blindfolds or question what was going to happen. The question was when.

When were his hands going to find the curves of her hips, and the mounds of her breasts; when was her back going to arch in desire for more; when were her lips going to find the ripples of his biceps and stroke the creases with her tongue; when was he going to express how much his heart ached for her presence.

The darkness left a desirous yearn. The silence rang in their ears and their breathing became heavier. “Just follow the sound of my voice,” she whispered. She knew the room was bare all over except the corner where the bed resided. “I’m leaning against the wall,” she said. She could hear his feet slowly shifting across the floor. “Maybe I should have lit a candle,” a small laugh came out.

“Yea, you should have, but I can play along,” he said. His booming voice echoed against the walls of the apartment, and he sounded closer than she expected. The hairs on her body stood up. She felt tense knowing she wouldn’t see what happened next. While waiting, she unhooked her bra and slipped off her panties. She took her ponytail down and felt her hair flow over her shoulders. “Why did you stop talking? This is harder than you think.”

“Sorry,” another laugh came out. “I miss you,” her voice softened. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s been forever.” She hadn’t seen him in over a year, and could barely remember if he had a mustache or a beard on his round face. She started to think back to their last encounter, waving to him as he sailed off shore, chasing a new adventure. After three years living together and enjoying a roller coaster relationship, the thought of not seeing each other for a year felt like a huge risk. The idea of not being able to use technology to hear the sound of the other person’s voice was disheartening. The first three months was very hard for her, she trembled in bed and wrestled with sleepless nights. Enduring holidays and special occasions without him caused her to question what the end goal was in dealing with the temporary separation. She knew it was not going to be forever, but twelve months felt like twelve years; it might as well have been an eternity.

She couldn’t imagine what he was going through, however. Being on a ship with eighty other men, with no means of a physical connection with a woman. She didn’t receive any letters, but very few postcards with a simple affectionate note. Each had a different address so she didn’t bother to send anything in return. But she took to her notebook to write out her urge for his touch and seeing his bright eyes from across her bed. Her girlfriends always asked her to see someone else, “Forget Raymond,” they chimed. But she didn’t let their frustrations influence or entice the troubles already brewing within. She knew, eventually, the day her eyes would see his face again.

She wondered why she had the idea to fiddle in the dark, with no way to see each other, knowing a year and three months without a picture had passed by. Her fingers laced each other and her heartbeat drummed. Her mind began going through the various possibilities of his looks. Was he wider or slimmer? Taller with facial hair? Maybe he decided to go bald all around and kept things clean cut. Maybe he lost an eye and wore a patch. She began to ask herself if she would feel differently if his looks or attitude had changed. She knew there was only one way to find out, but first, going through the dark abyss was the initial step.

His steps grew louder, and she caught herself holding her breath. Suddenly, he stopped and stammered, “I need just a minute.” She could hear him slide down against a wall and sit on the floor. “It’s been so long and I’m just overwhelmed. Stay where you are.” A million thoughts chased each other around his brain. All the images he made sure he did not forget on his fifteen-month excursion; images of her smiling, blowing him kisses, and dancing in the mirror naked. The Navy did not serve his memory well. Making sure he held on to the good times to outweigh images of bloodshed and danger. The constant nomadic lifestyle to stay afloat and out of jeopardy heightened his sensitivity. Living on edge and fear created a steel wall he was afraid to show.

“Do you want to talk it out? You can say whatever you’re thinking,” she said. He could hear her hands rubbing the wall, feeling her way to his voice, so he remained seated.

“I don’t want to scare you,” he started. “Being away for so long messed me up.” The images of screaming children running behind clay buildings racked his brain. “To walk into a foreign land and see you are the enemy. To know you are only doing your job, but people look at you with fear.” From the moment he stepped off the ship, he knew he was getting into trouble. The moments he spent off of the ship taught him to always look over his shoulder. “I wanted to run away so much, but I did not want to leave there a failure, or worse, a disappointment. I wanted to be someone you were proud of.”

“But I am proud of you,” her soft tone surprised him because she was suddenly so close. Her hands caught his shoulder and she ran it down his arm to his knee and squatted before him. “I am happy you’re home and in one piece. I am happy you actually served your duty and were able to see it through. Don’t doubt yourself. Don’t doubt how I feel for you or what I think either.” Her words were a moving melody, soothing and relaxing for his heavy heart.

Everything was still black. He couldn’t see the shape of her body or the curve of her lips. He was left with imagination. She stretched her hands to his face, feeling his rough beard and a small smile came about.

“What was the purpose of all this darkness again,” he asked, but received no answer. Her skin was smoother than he remembered. He embraced her roaming hand and his doubts and worry began to wash away. His hand glided up her arm and found her neck, which he gently grabbed to pull her face closer to him. This was their first time touching and she didn’t know how she survived. His lips traveled all over her chest and neck immediately. He smelled rose water faintly on her skin, and he was glad it was something that did not change. The soft floral scent triggered a few memories of watching her bathe with bubbles and pink rose petals floating around her. He inhaled deeply, and his lips traveled to her lips.

It felt like the first kiss; a kiss unrecognizable to either of their pasts. The kiss was long, deep and aching. Their breathing seemed to stop momentarily, and they avoided stopping for air. He forgot how plump her lips were, how she always put on a cherry gloss that left a stain. He forgot how her bottom lip always managed to curve and fit underneath his top lip. His hands cupped her face and he ran his thumbs over her cheeks. They didn’t stop touching.

Their hands explored each other, and despite being in the dark, their movements were not awkward or clumsy. They moved in sync when her body straddled his frame and her legs wrapped around his waist. His hands cradled her back, keeping her balanced on top of him and he nuzzled his face in her breasts. Her fingers ran to his hair and she noticed he grew out a small Afro. She twirled the coils between her fingertips, enjoyed the touch of his beard grazing her skin as his mouth found her nipples.

They breathed in each other’s smell and did not make any further movements. He cradled her, held her body close to his and did not try to let go. The silence between them remained still and uninterrupted. As much as he wanted to take her right there on the floor, he also wanted to take his time and savor every second. She started taking off his shirt and pulling down his pants, and laid kisses across his chest and stomach. Her hands played with his dick, while giving his neck wet kisses. Her grip tightened and she felt his dick harden in her hand, and she could feel it throbbing a bit. Very little words were spoken, but the energy was strong. She rubbed her face in his neck and their breathing slowed down together in a slow rhythm. Her finger twirled around his nipples and light kisses were exchanged.

“Is the place still set up the same?” he asked.

“Yes. I didn’t want to change anything. I didn’t have the energy.”

With one swift move, he held her and stood up from the floor. With his memory he slowly carried her to the bed. Along the walk, their lips and tongues met, the same heavy panting and strong aches going through. As he lowered her on the bed, he pivoted his waist and aimed his dick to slide into her. She was warm, moist, and welcoming.

Her arms clung tighter around his neck as his stroke lengthened, and she caught herself catching her breath. She could feel him widening her, and she became wetter with each passing stroke. His breathing grew heavier, his breath all over her neck, and she continued to moan in his ear. Her moans matched his long, deep, smooth strokes. He gripped her thighs to help speed up his rhythm. He felt out of this world to have her in his arms, and to be inside her felt invigorating.

“I want the light on,” he breathed. He wanted to see her brown skin glisten with sweat, and watch her breasts wiggle from his gentle pounding. He wanted to see her hazel eyes watch him put love into her temple, and see her cherry lips purse and twist from the amounts of sensations he gave to please.

“No.” His sweat dripped over her, and she felt the droplets slide across her hard nipples and down to her navel.

“Why not? I haven’t seen you in so long.” He deepened his stroke with each word, using his finger to massage her clit. She struggled speaking, but kept her refusals short. He felt her walls tighten around his shaft, and her hands gripped his arms fervently. His fingers slid up her body to her face, and traced over her lips. He outlined an O and her tongue licked over his thumb, and her teeth soon followed. The sting nearly brought him over the edge but he exhaled a deep breath and stopped.

She rolled over to her hands and knees, and used her hand to guide his dick back inside her. She bit down on her lip and released moans. Her hands gripped the bed sheets, enjoying the way he made her feel wanted, needed and enjoyed. His hands caressed her ass and he planted kisses on her back. He could feel her back arch further in as he dipped deeper. His stroke kept a steady pace and she clenched her walls around his dick. She felt her orgasm reaching its peak; her fingers rubbed her clit vigorously. He pulled out and kneeled down to kiss her pussy lips. The thick juice gave a sweet taste and his tongue flicked at her puffy clit. She rocked her hips, pressing her pussy into his face and then pulling it away. She started to bounce her ass and he slurped in licks, savoring every taste.

He slid his dick back inside her, and gave out a groan he couldn’t hold. He waited for her to come, twisting her nipples between his thumb and index finger. He kept up his pace, sliding his dick in and out without stopping. Her pussy was dripping, and he could feel the wetness across his abdomen, and small drips going down his thigh. She let him know she was about to come, and her low and raspy voice brought him to his own orgasm.

While releasing, his body was hovering on top of hers, and he pushed himself deeper inside of her warmth. Their bodies went still and tingles rang up and down. A full three minutes of silence filled the dark room. They did not move, and instead listened to each other’s breathing stabilize.

“Please, don’t leave me like that again,” she breathed. She turned under him, and wrapped her legs around his waist with a tighter and intense grip. Her head fit into the crease of his arms, and he caressed her face.

“I promise I won’t. Now can you turn the lights on?”