Lament

by Stewart, Lynsey M.

  One pull. One rip.

  The braids remained, framing her exquisite skin, soft and defined, as she tried to grab a breath.

  ‘Look at you.’ I almost fucking wept.

  How could she still be so elegant and refined when her dress lay in tatters on the floor? She was born to be a dancer, it crept out of her pores, it clanged loudly through her body, a bell chiming to claim your attention. She was exquisite, bathed in an overhead light that hit the slight sheen of the ropes like tiny twinkling stars. I wasn’t a sadist, I didn’t get a kick out of spanking or causing pain. I loved the visual. I became aroused looking at a woman bound and restrained, dressed in decorative knots. Like making love to art and Nat was the finest form.

  ‘Do you know how beautiful you look?’

  I took out my phone from the jacket of my tuxedo, caught her eyes and waited for her to nod her head. She smiled and bit her lip; I could hear her shaky breaths as I crouched on the floor.

  ‘I want to keep this moment forever,’ I said, taking a photo, the flash lighting her up like an angel. I stood, took another one, waited for her nerves to fall and when her shoulders fell back in hesitant confidence, I captured her again.

  Dropping my jacket to the floor I clasped my hands against her legs, slid them up the lines of her body, and as I reached her centre, I kissed her, long and hard. She shook under my fingers and I was propelled upwards, the need to reconnect, to look her in the eyes took me over completely. I grasped her chin, tilting her eyes to mine. She met my stare and we stilled, connected by an unspoken lust that we could both feel in the air between us. I fumbled with my belt with one hand, trying but failing to free the buckle. Nat’s hands closed over it, but she didn’t stay there, I felt them brush my erection as she pulled down the zip.

  Carefully, she slipped her hand inside. I hissed as she made contact with my cock, the sensitive head ready and throbbing. She pulled me out, the release from the constraints of my tux and the cooler air hitting it making my head fall back, or maybe it was her hands? Stroking and seeking. Opening my eyes, I found her, breathtaking and on her knees, tracing the hard edge of my cock with her tongue. My breath stilled, only starting again when she flicked the translucent bead of come leaking from my tip. A groan replaced my sharp breaths.

  ‘Stop, or I’ll come.’ She gained eye contact, looked at me with full confidence as she slowly released my cock from her mouth. ‘Stand up. Back to the wall.’ She complied and all with a smile on her face. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was surprising herself with how much she was enjoying this. Had she been on the receiving end of a dominant partner before? Was she experienced sexually? Inexperienced? Had an awakening shook her senses that being bound would be as pleasurable for her as it would be for me?

  ‘Look me in the eyes, Nat.’ She did and I wanted to fucking kiss that smirk on her lips. ‘Good girl.’ The smirk turned down a notch, a lopsided grin replacing it, her eyes closed, and a lip bite told me she was as aroused as me. I moved in closer, the tip of my cock fitting against her clit perfectly. ‘Look me in the eyes when I enter you for the first time.’

  ‘OK,’ she gasped, opening them on my command but kissing my nose to break the intensity. I fucking loved it, the breakneck speed of veering from harsh to loving. Was this going to be us? Sweet kisses after a dirty fuck?

  ‘Can you feel me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m going to do this quickly. A long thrust, no chance of thinking before I’m there.’

  ‘Do it,’ she replied, rubbing her clit against my sensitive head, making my eyes roll back and my focus disappear.

  Everything was wet and slick, our arousal blending and mixing together. I pulled a condom from my trouser pocket, a rare move of cocksure sexual arrogance hoping that the outcome of this evening involved my cock in her cunt. That seemed so vulgar now, the need to fuck that I’d thought was driving me towards her had taken a different turn. Feelings were mingling with lust. A sexual meeting of minds could be oil and water, but we were potent perfumes that stirred together to form the most intoxicating fragrance.

  Nat helped me roll on the condom, our hands fitting together with an ease that unnerved me. I couldn’t give time to focus on the bundle of thoughts I’d be sorting through later. The guilt, because I hadn’t allowed myself to enjoy Shibari since Lisa passed away. The questions of what this meant for us. The fact that I wasn’t already thinking about how to avoid her, never see her again after our bodies met purely through a sexual release. For now, I wanted to feast on the high of Nat. Enjoy the need I’d had for her since the day we argued over a fucking taxi.

  ‘Put your hands on me,’ I said, positioning myself. The electric tingles only arousal could spike were increasing in speed and depth and I worried for a second that the minute I thrust myself inside her and her walls gripped me fervently – I’d come right there in a flash. I felt her grip the back of my neck, the other hand pushing against my chest. She dropped her forehead to my cheek and I nuzzled against her. Nuzzled? What the hell was going on with me?

  ‘Ready?’ I whispered gruffly. I felt a nod against me. I wanted to stroke her head, hold her, tell her I’d got her, but that wasn’t what this was. Was it? I slid in spectacularly. Words disappeared, music became an unknown concept. Everything else fell away. Braids and knots were pushing against my shirt. My hand was gripping the braid around her waist and I wanted to memorise this moment, when thoughts and feelings came together in harmony, before the influx of dreadful self-loathing took hold. I pulled her leg around my waist, opening her to me, getting the angle just right. She cried out and I knew I’d found her pleasure spot. I increased the pace, ran my tongue along her neck, kissed behind her ear, watched as she tipped her head and offered that beautiful line of her throat to me.

  ‘This is too good,’ I said, the stirrings swirling in my balls. I pulled the braid between her breasts, pushing them together, plumping them up. ‘Making you come may become my life’s work.’

  ‘I wouldn’t stop you,’ she gasped. ‘To hell with the cello.’

  A deep rumble of laughter left my mouth. I hadn’t heard a noise like that for years. Happiness, where have you been? Should you be here? Have you got the wrong man? I watched the smile on her face, the look of contentment and bliss rolling out of her like a dancer’s pirouettes. She lifted her hand from my chest and raised her finger, offering it to me. I licked the tip, swirling my tongue and followed it, completely fascinated as she started rubbing circles across her clit.

  ‘Jesus, Nat.’

  It was like a bomb had gone off in my head, my thrusts became faster, the grip on her neck closed in and fuck, hell, shit. She was pulsing against me, her walls hugging my cock, her gasps restrained but powerful, displaying the social graces of knowing to keep her cries between us so that we didn’t attract the attention of the guests who were only a few doors away.

  ‘Next time you’ll fucking wail, do you hear me?’ And on those words my orgasm flew through me, starting at my toes and ending with tiny vibrations on my scalp. Nat had consumed me. My orgasm leaving me with an intense feeling that I’d made her part of me, that somehow, I’d absorbed her.

  ‘You may have to carry me out of here,’ she said softly as I carefully, painfully, slowly removed her leg from around my waist and placed her back down to the floor. ‘My legs don’t work.’

  That laugh bubbled out of me again. It was a surprise to hear such a joyful sound. ‘I think shaky legs are the least of our worries when it comes to getting out of here.’ I dipped my head to the floor where puddles of silvery fabric lay around us. I’d destroyed her dress.

  ‘I don’t think I can repair it,’ she said, dropping her forehead to my shoulder. ‘I’m going to scare the professors, aren’t I?’

  ‘I can’t let you leave like this,’ I whispered against her. There was no way I was letting her walk out of here after I’d annihilated her. Her hair was a wonderful mess, strands were standing on end and her parting had pushed over to the
opposite side of when she’d arrived. The ear cuff was discarded on the floor along with the dress and she had a fresh, pink, just-fucked glow to her cheeks. She started covering her breasts with her hands and a look of panic swept through. ‘No, no, no,’ I said, kissing her head. ‘Don’t do that. This is my fault and I’m going to sort everything, OK?’

  ‘I don’t have clothes, Alex.’ My name from her lips sounded right. Why did it sound so right?

  ‘Here.’

  I picked up my tux jacket from the floor where I’d shucked it off earlier. I placed it around her shoulders, smoothed down the front and fastened the buttons down her middle. It hit her mid-thigh, but we could get away with it.

  ‘I’ll make sure there’s a taxi waiting outside. We can aim for the door. Avoid eye contact. It will be fine.’

  She laughed lightly, smoothed her hair down and bit her lip.

  ‘Was it true?’ she asked as I searched for a taxi company on my phone.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your music tonight was inspired by me?’

  ‘Every note,’ I replied, trying to keep my voice measured, unsure of how she would react if I told her that she had infiltrated my fingers and played out through the strings.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, her voice breaking on the last word. She placed her fingers against her mouth and smiled through the sob that threatened to take hold of her at any moment. This was a classic case of happy tears. I’d seen enough of the sad kind, the ones that didn’t stop and were always there, taunting you to break when you least expect it. The familiar kind. The kind I’d become accustomed to. But as Nat smiled through her fingers and that amazing silver braid flashed underneath my jacket, I realised that I didn’t feel the familiarity of tears stinging my eyes – I felt captivated. I could feel her claiming me. And that feeling didn’t bring guilt or remorse.

  It only brought joy.

  19

  Nat

  It was amazing how the world could shift overnight. A culmination of days and hours pulling together to form one catalytic moment of truth. A reawakening. A sudden understanding of how your inner mechanics work. An overwhelming feeling of safety anchoring you after years of treading water and searching for the tide. Did the ropes do that? The binding of my wrists with the drapes? A heady appreciation for my body under the knots? Or was it Alex? The strong, dark man who was beginning to show me glimpses of light.

  After the concert, he stayed with me until he confirmed a taxi was waiting outside. He rang them twice, used his rough and demanding tone to ensure the door would be open as soon as we left the building. He put his arms around my shoulders, held on to the back of his jacket to keep it covering me, shielding me from the guests in the other room. He placed me inside the car, knelt down on the pavement before whispering regrets that he had to return to the party inside, adorations of how beautiful I looked, how I made him feel untroubled and peaceful. He made promises to have the dress fixed, that he would see me as soon as he could, and I left the venue feeling radiant and happier than I’d felt in years.

  The next morning, a bouquet of white roses was waiting for me on my desk at On Pointe. The card simply said, You’re stunning. He’d signed it Alex with a bold line and a single kiss underneath his name. He called me later that evening to apologise for not seeing me; he was working in London, putting the finishing touches to his new recordings.

  A few days later and I hadn’t heard from him again. That was fine, couldn’t be any other way. I had no idea how we could define ourselves, or what we were. All I knew was that I liked the feeling he was encouraging in me and I was happy to wait.

  ‘Just taking Rex for a walk,’ I said, popping my head into the lounge where my grandmother was watching Sunset Boulevard. It suited her perfectly with her fluffy slippers, silk turban and kimono dressing gown.

  ‘Are you taking a letter?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She lifted a penciled brow. ‘Sometimes, I wish I knew what was going on in that head of yours.’

  ‘Me too.’ I smiled.

  ‘I hope the responses help you make sense of it all.’

  ‘They do.’

  I wasn’t ready to admit to her that the responses to the letters had become more personal, less generic quotes of grief and loss and more interest in my own journey. But that only heightened my need to know who was writing them, because the more we communicated, the more I felt like they were starting to understand me. Or at the least, empathise.

  ‘Come on, you hunk of dog gorgeousness,’ I said to Rex who was now a more willing participant of our morning walks to the Grieving Tree.

  We took it slow, taking in the colours of the bluebells and the bright greens of summer. I loved this time of year; everything seemed more vibrant and that made it easier to feel happier.

  As we got closer to the Grieving Tree, I could see Eli. I heard her bold laughter first, and standing underneath her, helping her to climb the branches was Alex.

  He was wearing jeans and a light blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves, the dark hairs scattering his arms made me bite my lip in anticipation of feeling them against my skin.

  ‘Nat!’ Eli shouted, waving as Alex held out both arms to steady her. She’d let go and was wobbling precariously.

  ‘Hold on!’ I shouted as Alex lifted her down. She ran over and gave me a squeeze before doing the same to Rex. Alex followed behind, the small smile on his face telling me everything I needed to know. He was happy to see me. He was pleased I was here.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

  ‘Rex’s favourite walking spot.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ He bent down to pat him, and Rex rewarded him with a lick to his face, which Eli found hilarious. ‘I think you’re dragged here, mister. What do you say?’

  ‘I haven’t seen you here before. Elise is always with Nadia.’

  He looked up. ‘We’re having quality father and daughter time. Nadia was with her when she wrote her last letter, and apparently, she said something about wanting to spend more time with her daddy.’

  ‘Ah, the classic guilt trip.’

  He laughed lightly. ‘Well, it’s understandable. I’ve been away a lot and…other things have come first.’

  ‘I know,’ I replied, watching as Eli tugged him towards the postbox.

  ‘Are you posting a letter, Nat?’ she asked, turning to me.

  ‘Yes.’ I pulled the envelope out of my pocket and handed it to her. She posted it along with hers. ‘Thank you kindly.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ she replied, wrapping her arm around Alex’s. She looked from me back to him, a look of confusion that only came from a child as she tried to figure out why we were taking shy glances and sighing through quiet laughs.

  ‘I’d better leave you to it, then,’ I said, still watching Alex. ‘What are your plans for the rest of the day?’

  ‘Daddy has to work later, but we’re going out for lunch. I want a milkshake.’ Alex laughed as Eli licked her lips.

  ‘Sounds amazing. Chocolate all the way.’ I smiled as we fist-bumped. ‘Will I see you later at class?’ Eli nodded and waved.

  ‘Nat?’ Alex shouted as I walked away. ‘Meet me later. At church?’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  He checked his watch. ‘I’ll be there at three.’

  * * *

  It began to rain on the walk over. I hadn’t brought my umbrella with me. It was one of those balmy summer storms, the ones that arrive when you least expect them to, and the bright skies instantly turn a hue of purply black. I ran through the gates of the graveyard, straight past Mum and Bec and into the church. He was already sitting in the front pew, waiting and wired, his hands wringing, his head lowered, but as I reached him he instantly looked up.

  ‘You’re soaking,’ he said as I ran my hands through my hair, slicking it back and trying to arrange it to look somewhat decent. ‘Don’t. I like it like that.’

  I sat next to him, my body
ringing on his words. He smiled and I melted.

  ‘Take off your jacket.’

  I turned my head at his command, wide-eyed and immediately taken back to Alex between my legs as I stood naked before him, aside from a few ropes.

  ‘It can dry over the pew,’ he explained, smiling as I laughed lightly. My blush must have given me away. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m good.’

  ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been around since…the concert.’

  ‘I understand.’ And I did. Alex was in demand. He was a musician and a single father, something would have to give and that something would always be me.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want to see you.’

  ‘I know,’ I replied, squeezing his hand.

  A relaxed sigh fell from his lips.

  ‘I don’t want to hurt you and I fear that I have.’ I shook my head, feathered my fingers across his neck. ‘Are you annoyed with me?’ I shook my head. ‘I’ve not been in touch…I’ve not had time.’

  ‘Was it because you’ve been too busy or because you’ve had second thoughts?’

  His eyes shot to mine. ‘Have you had second thoughts?’

  ‘I asked you first.’

  We sat back, our focus on the stained-glass windows in front of us. He held my hand in his and my thoughts wandered to how long we could stay here like this, before we had to break away.

  ‘I laid flowers on Lisa’s grave before you came. Spent a minute with her,’ he said, clearing his throat. Ah, there it was. The reason that would pull us apart. To my surprise, his hand stayed clasped to mine. ‘After we…I thought I would feel guilt.’

  I swallowed harshly, dropped my eyes to my feet. ‘We haven’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘I know, but I was expecting to battle with those bloody second thoughts or some twisted belief that I’d cheated on her.’