Mad World Reminisce

She steps out of the shower and picks up the towel to dry off. She feels the fluff of the fleece as she dries her body, taking extra time to caress the swell of her belly.

A tiny flutter answers her stroking, making her smile. But the tears come again.

The towel around her, she reaches the window next to her bed. She looks outside, into the distance, to the beach. She remembers.

She remembers the time when she wasn't alone, when he was there with her, on the silty sandy beach. The bright, sandy beach, so bright it hurt her eyes without her hat, her sky-blue hat. The hat he had bought her before... before everything was washed away from under her.

The perfect week it had been, not expecting to meet anyone, but meeting him nonetheless. His romantic, gentle seduction was the answer to every adolescent fantasy she had ever had. But he was hers and she was his.

He didn't have much time, on shore leave. Needed a break, so he had said. As a lower-ranking officer, he was entitled to a few niceties. Such as a short beach holiday.

Her room, quickly abandoned, in favor of his elegant suite, overlooking the waves and the fine white sands, and the palm trees... oh how she loved the palm trees and the flowering underbrush from which he plucked a bloom to put in her hair - the night he told her how much he loved her. The night he made her his.

She had never felt the temptation before that night. She had always had control of her senses and her fancies, never succumbed to lust. Until that night.

His soft kisses became hungry as he made love to her mouth with his tongue. Even now she can feel the tingle his tongue gave hers.

His lips traveled down her face, and down her neck, down, down as if he didn't want to miss a single part. Further down across the swells of her breasts, her tank top neckline pushed down to give him access. Finally he reached her nipples, where he focused his lips again. His kisses drew her out into little rosebuds, ready to bloom in his hands. But it was his tongue, flicking across them which made her gasp with desire as her body began to awaken under his touch.

He continued his downward journey, pushing her shorts over her hips, with the softest, gentlest hands. How he could ever command people, so gently, she would never know. He probably just asked them softly and they obeyed, because she knew she could never say 'no' to him.

Standing in his arms, his hands exploring her naked body, she felt no shame, no fear, no worry. She was completely under his spell, and content. More than content, she was excited, her every sense screaming at him to fulfill her deepest desires, to join with someone so completely that she would never be whole again without him.

Next thing she knew, she was on the bed, he was with her, caressing her body, making her his. She wanted more, oh so much more! She called out his name, and he answered... his fingers answered first, fingering her to wetness and slippery desire.

She called out to him again and his mouth answered, slipping his tongue to her delicate desire, making her moan with wanting. She called out to him again. This time, his hardness answered, slipping inside her, gently at first, not wanting to hurt her in his haste, opening her body for the first time, claiming her for him for all time.

Finally in, he moved gently within her, then more insistently, as hormones and lust overtook his restraint. It hurt a bit, but it was tolerable, and she knew it would be better next time and every time thereafter.

She fell asleep in his arms, feeling fulfilled for the first time in her life - like she had completed an important mission.

Her gaze returns to the present, the sun is setting and the room grows darker. She could turn on the lamp, but she doesn't want to spoil the darkness which has become like a friend to her.

She presses play on the song that has become her evening mantra, the only thing that keeps her sane.

She remembers the morning that came too quickly, the phone call that tore him away from her. Duty, he explained. He left with a kiss and a promise to return.

The song plays and she sits on the bed, the towel slipping down around her. Her full breasts filling with the first milk the child would want in a few short months now. She caresses her swollen belly again, wondering what the child will look like - whether he or she will look more like her father or her mother.

She picks up the letter for the thousandth time and rereads it, the tears already rolling down her cheeks.

We regret to inform you... is all she can manage before her tears revert to sobs.

She fingers the medal that had come with his box of possessions, and strokes her belly again... the one lasting reminder of his love.

"Mad world... mad world...," the song croons in the background.

The sun is gone now, the song ends, but her tears keep rolling on as she wonders if she will make it alone. No, not alone. The child will give her strength to carry on.

♥♥♥♥♥