Autumn leans towards him, kisses him on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful, wonderful man, and I really admire you.”
Jet lowers his eyes hastily. He is blinking hard, eyes glossing. “Thank you, Autumn. I appreciate that,” he whispers.
She knows then, remaining at the orphanage is a momentous sacrifice, and it is tough what Jet has to confront on a daily basis. She is certain he doesn’t receive praise too often, nor recognition, and though she intuits that these are things he doesn’t need, he still appears comforted to receive them, nonetheless. She lifts his chin with her finger and presses her lips to his. She kisses him sensually, trying to communicate the enormous affinity she has for him.
Reluctantly he pulls away and rests his forehead against hers, breathing deeply. “Let’s not do this here,” he says. “I can’t help thinking Master Shen is going to walk in and get the shock of his life.”
Autumn laughs. “Well where would you like to go?”
He grins. “How about I show you our room?”
At the prospect of spending the night alone with Jet, waves of sensation begin to ebb and flow between her thighs; she hides a single shuddering breath.
Jet closes the door to the darkened room of the music hall and leads Autumn outside. They tread along the aging, timber slats of the veranda, which creak under every step. Jet’s hand rests on the small of her back, directing her path. The night is almost pitch-black. Only the moonlight and rosy glow from the city lights in the distance cast a subtle light, enough to guide their way.
They veer around the corner to the back of the building. Jet grabs Autumn by the wrist, pulls her to him and, without a single word, edges her back to the wall, his strong body pressing against her. It has been much too long since she has felt the hard body of a man, if ever a man like Jet, who tantalises her so.
She parts her lips, ready for him as he brings his lips to hers and kisses her with an urgency she matches. He deftly caresses her waist, thighs, and pleasures the sensitive path from her throat to her jaw with his mouth.
“I love the way you taste,” he breathes.
Autumn’s body tingles from his lips and his words. She delights in the sensations from his curious hands as they slide over the bare skin of her back and stomach, under her shirt. When he reaches her mouth again, he opens her lips with his own. She has never wanted anything more than to taste those sweet lips and tongue of his.
He whispers in a low, deep voice, “Let’s go to our room.”
Autumn nods, dazed with arousal.
Jet opens the door to the small room they are sharing. She peers at the two single beds, with well-worn yet clean bedding, almost touching due to the space constraints. Other than the beds, there is not much else in the room, just bare walls and an ancient looking wardrobe on the wall beside the door.
They step inside. Jet closes the door behind them and locks it. A pang of nerves, coupled with excitement, shoots from Autumn’s toes to her ears and she is suddenly feeling shy, vulnerable. A tight smile forms across her lips; she is unable to hold eye contact with those buttery gems of his.
Jet takes a confident step closer and pulls her by the waist into his body. “Are you nervous?” he asks, voice husky.
Autumn smiles. “A little.”
He runs his thumb along her full bottom lip causing her eyes to languidly close. “Don’t be,” he says leaning in and taking that very lip between his own, as though it is the tastiest morsel on the Earth.
Jet slides his hands over her body and relieves her of her shirt and bra. She hopes her body pleases him. She raises her eyes to him to seek his reaction. He holds her gaze for only a second until his eyes stray; linger on the curves of her body. His face transforms from a man with some guise of self-control to a man who is overwhelmed by the pleasures she is producing in him by visual perception alone.
He reaches for her shorts button; undoes it, followed by her zipper. His movements become achingly slow as he slides her shorts from her hips, as though he is unwrapping a delicate present and savouring the moment. Her shorts drop to the floor and she steps out of them, along with her sandals. She stands before him naked, but for her sensible, white-cotton g-string and the necklace from Darshan.
“Oh God, you’re so incredibly beautiful,” he says, his eyes lifting from her thighs, slowly to her face. He rips his shirt over his head and flings it across the room.
Autumn’s stomach pangs as she takes in the appearance of his toned chest and arms. Though she felt them earlier, she had no idea of the defined muscles he possesses. His skin is beautifully tanned, flawless apart from a dappling of freckles across his shoulders and a thin tuft of hair in the centre of his chest.
He tugs downwards on the band of her knickers, forces them from her hips. His body drifts down as he pulls her g-string lower, down her thighs, to her ankles, his face now only centimetres from her sex; so close, she can feel his warm breath against her skin. He presses his lips once against her fleshy mound. The sensation, the expectancy, stirs her inside, wets her, readies her.
Jet rises slowly to her breasts. He cups one with his hand, gathers it into his mouth. He sucks greedily on her nipple, flicking his tongue over the taut tip, sending bolts of pleasure through her breasts, to the deepest depths of her belly, and to the ripening crevice between her thighs.
Autumn rolls her head backwards and voices a breathy sigh of surrender, vocalising the newfound urgency of her desire. She reaches for his shorts’ draw-string, wanting to unleash that enormous bulge, unrelenting against the seam of his pants. Her fingers fumble; he helps her and slides his shorts off his hips to the floor.
Jet grasps her hips and leads her to the bed. They lie down, chest to chest. Jet’s body is warm, smooth. The size of his frame, his broad shoulders, long, strong arms, it all excites her. She takes her hand and runs it up the length of his stone-hard shaft from the base to the glistening tip; its rigidity, its size is what excites her most of all. She imagines its firm length thrusting deeply into her. Finally gone are the nerves she felt earlier, in their wake: a wonderful, sexy wash of arousal.
“I want you,” he says, eyes locked with hers. It isn’t a question. It isn’t a plea. She needn’t give him a choice, there isn’t one to be made, and she needn’t use demands as there is only one possible scenario.
She nods. “You have me.”
You have all of me—for now.
Jet leans over and peers into her eyes, lips slightly parted, breaths deep, eyes looking deeply into hers. He moves his lips to speak but stops, instead he presses them to hers and they kiss. When their tongues meet anew, they both release a sigh; a sigh that expresses how this simple, yet deeply intimate act marks the beginning of something new. Something that neither of them understands, but that each can feel so intensely in their bodies and hearts.
Jet gathers her breast into his mouth and suckles at the sweet tip, swirling his tongue around her sensitive nipple. Pangs of pleasure pulsate through her body. He cups her other breast, rolls the nipples between his finger and thumb. She pushes her chest to him, urges him to take more between those lush lips, those adept fingers.
He trails his kiss down her stomach. “I want to taste you,” he whispers, as he spreads Autumn’s knees wide. He kisses the inside of her thigh; she shudders.
“Please,” she says.
He licks the length of her crevice, over her clitoris. Again. Long, slow licks, from her wet opening to her clitoris. Again. Again. He laps at the sensitive bud, soft flickers of his tongue.
“So sweet,” he says, breath like heaven against her flesh.
Her sex throbs with pleasure, with every lick, with every taste. Autumn’s breaths come harder; her entire body is washed with tingling, aching, beautiful heat. She is freefalling towards the brink with tremendous speed. She lifts her torso, resting on her elbows and looks down at Jet’s head bobbing up and down between her thighs.
“Oh God, Jet. I don’t want to come yet.”
He lifts his head an
d looks at her, eyebrows knitting together.
“I want to come with you. I want to come with you inside me,” she says.
Jet grins. “I have never heard anything sexier.”
He crawls up the bed until he is face to face with her and straddles her body. He rests the glistening head of his cock just outside her eager opening. Her pelvis uncontrollably rises, tries to edge him inside, but he resists her. He kisses her lips; a guise of restraint, but he doesn’t restrain for long. In a single, swift motion, he thrusts his full length into her; moans as he fills her up completely.
Autumn bucks to meet his next thrust in. His next. His next, until they are moving in unison. Autumn has never wanted any man so much, so deep. She grips his shoulders, holds on tight as she loses herself in his pleasure, in her pleasure. He plunges harder, deeper. This is what she wants. She meets him, thrust to thrust.
Most arousing are his breathy whispers and guttural compliments against her ear. “You are so tight… you were made for me… I want you to come so hard.”
A heat starts in the centre of her sex, swells and spreads, until her entire body grows warm and tingles so deliciously. The heat transforms into a pleasurable ache. The ache surges to every nerve-ending she possesses. Autumn gasps as the first pulse of orgasm overtakes her; with the next pulse she moans and grips tighter to his shoulders. She canters against him as the intense pleasure rolls through her like a thunderstorm tumbling through a valley.
Jet’s body tightens, his thrusts quicken. He lets out a hoarse groan and comes with deep, powerful strokes, just as Autumn’s body begins to relax, awash with post-orgasm elation.
Autumn lies on the padded cushion between Jet’s shoulder and chest, and wishes she could take him home with her. Under the lightness of her body, her throat feels tight. She is upset about her luck, or as Jet would say, her Karma, for meeting someone as incredible as him, with whom she has instantly shared an indescribable connection, at the most inopportune time and location.
Their situation is almost like a personal challenge to test if she has the ability to selflessly give up her own needs and wants for the sake of those in a less fortunate position. Though she doesn’t doubt how this will end, with her going home tomorrow, it still hurts, nonetheless.
Jet kisses her forehead. “You’re my personal Mara, the demon of my desire.”
“How have we gone from mesmerising to demon?” she says, grinning, blinking to banish the tears wanting to form.
He kisses her again, leaving his lips to linger a little longer at her forehead.
“In my current situation, those two words are interchangeable.”
“Are you saying the old fortune teller, she of mere pot-luck, was right?”
Jet doesn’t say anything immediately; instead she feels a long lungful of air escape from his chest. “I am wondering how I am going to say goodbye tomorrow.”
Autumn whispers, “Me too. I don’t want to. I want to stay with you, even if for only a day longer.”
He gently shifts her head from his shoulder and sits up in the bed, eyes wide. “You can. We can work it out.”
She shakes her head, pulling the sheets up over her bare breasts as she sits. “It’s best if I don’t.” The words feel solid and catch painfully in her throat. “More time will only make it harder.”
“What if you come back and visit me, or I can see if I can get back to Australia for a couple of weeks, or a month. We need to at least try and see if this will work between you and me.”
“Jet, when I go tomorrow, I won’t leave you my contact details and I don’t want yours. I will not be responsible for you leaving here.”
Jet sighs, but nods his head.
Chapter 6
The glorious Indian sun brings morning too quickly to the sleeping orphanage of Bodh Gaya. Lying with Jet in the small, single bed with his arms wrapped cosily over her body, Autumn does not wish to open her eyes. So she doesn’t. Not yet, even as Jet stirs behind her.
Jet’s arousal is immediate. He presses that prompt stiffening between his thighs against the supple, round cheeks of her bottom. Autumn’s blood rushes to the areas it splendours most fabulously.
Like a languid caterpillar, she rolls on her side to face him, and when she knows her first image upon waking will be of Jet, she opens her eyelids. Jet’s eyes captivate her, as though she is seeing them anew, the colour of honey and just as sweet. Jet is like a hug after a long time apart, or a dizzying first kiss, or dirty sex after a fight. He makes her feel good and she doesn’t know how she will be able to say goodbye.
She kisses his succulent lips and body until she lies breathless, heart pounding against his broad chest, his seed wetting her thighs and during that time, prohibits any more thoughts of going home.
Jet joins her for a shower, providing a clean toothbrush, toothpaste, along with much appreciated soap. Autumn begrudgingly dresses into the clothes she wore the entire day before and checks in on David on the way back to her room, hoping he is feeling better and not having a clue what to do if he isn’t.
When she opens the door and pokes her head in, David is sound asleep. She calls his name softly and he stirs; eyes bloodshot, but his face has lost yesterday’s pallor and gained much of his original rosy colouring.
“I think I’ve stabilised,” he says, voice hoarse. “I haven’t purged since yesterday afternoon.” He slowly sits upright; places his feet on the floor. “I even think I’m able to eat something.”
Autumn was not completely aware of how worried she had been about his condition until she sighs so strongly with relief it dizzies her.
Jet pokes his head into the room. “Looking good, mate.”
David nods. “I’m not doing too bad. Thank you for everything, the electrolytes, the use of your room.”
Autumn and Jet exchange glances with each other.
“It’s not a problem. I’m only happy to help,” says Jet.
Before heading back to her room with Jet, she urges David to hurry, as much as he is capable, to shower and ready himself for the train-ride back to Patna, which is leaving in the next hour.
Jet offers to accompany them both to the station, but Autumn feels it is best if they say their goodbyes in the privacy of the orphanage. Back in the room, that constrictive feeling in her throat returns, her body feels weighted. How is it that this man creates such emotions in her after only knowing him for one day and night?
“How about you give me your phone-number so I can contact you, just to make sure you get home ok. No strings attached?” he asks, eyes pleading.
She shakes her head. “There’s no point, Jet. You live twenty-nine hours away.”
He harrumphs angrily. “Fuck!” He places his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t have met you, share the most incredible night together, have the feelings I have for you and never see you again. Don’t you want to see how this will develop between us? Don’t you think we deserve that?
She shakes her head sombrely, a slight gloss to her eyes. “You’ll soon forget about me once I’m gone.”
His eyes portray complete bemusement. “I won’t forget you. You’re not just some holiday fling, some one-night-stand. You’re worth more than that and you certainly know you mean more to me than that.”
She sighs and kisses him on his full, supple lips. “Thank you. For everything. I truly mean that.” She kisses him again. “But I better get going.”
A subtle anguish transforms Jet’s features. He steps closer and kisses her hard on the mouth, his force, urgency, taking Autumn by surprise. He pushes his hand into hers and steps her back to the door, pinning her with his body, all the while kissing her lips, biting her neck.
She directly assimilates all of his emotions, can see all of his images with total clarity—desire, lust, need and a threat-of-loss, so heavy in his heart. He pulls her shirt and bra off with barely a pause, breaking her contact with his mind. But it was enough time, their hands together, to communicate exactly how Jet feels about Autumn in thi
s moment, about her as she is about to walk out of his life forever, after only the briefest of encounters.
Jet believes the universe is seeking justice, Karma is having Her day for his past mistakes, for having sown destructive seeds with faceless, nameless women for whom he cared little, and now the seeds have germinated and sprouted, leaving him to suffer the consequences with a woman he cares more about in a single day than any other in his life.
He fumbles with her shorts for only a second and reefs them from her hips, along with her knickers, then his own. Into his arms he lifts her, and she wraps her legs tight around his waist as he plunges into her, her back up against the wall. It doesn’t take long this time, only pure, ardent, physical gratification within the brief minutes they have left, until she slumps against him, both completely spent.
Autumn dresses, kisses Jet on the cheek one last time and walks out the door. He doesn’t follow, only watches as she gives a final smile and closes the door. She collects David from his room and they catch a rickshaw to the Gaya train station.
Seated on the train, heading back to Patna, David asks, “What’s the matter? You seem down.”
“I’m just sad that it’s our last day. I’m going to miss India.”
David places his hand on her shoulder. “India or Jet?”
A solitary tear rolls down her cheek. “Both.”
Blog – Australian Traveller
Bodh Gaya, a dusty landscape brimming with beautiful fields, relatively quiet compared to the other cities of India, yet crammed with that which counts more than people—hope. Bodh Gaya is a place of hope and hope is all anyone needs to get out of bed in the morning and get through another day in a workaday world. Hope there is a tomorrow, a bigger paycheque, a day off, a holiday, a husband or wife, a lover, a smile, luck, hope for the future, a friend—hope.
In Bodh Gaya, I saw hope in the child beggars as they approached you for a coin, hope in the local street peddlers that a new sale will bring in a few rupees, hope in the pilgrims that they will reach spiritual enlightenment, and hope in the many Buddhist devout that today may bring nirvana.
The Paler Shade Of Autumn Page 6
