I exploded in bloom. A garden all at once reds and fiery whites and pinks and my body was not my own. I shook and shivered in orgasm, gasping little cries erupting from my throat. My inner labia and vaginal walls pulsed. My back arched. Every muscle in my body went tense, released, and spasmed. I turned my head and stared as his own bliss built. I saw his eyes grow wide, his mouth open, and as he hunched his back, he groaned those muted roars. And then he thrust with all his force into me, hip bones almost angry. I felt his cock surge against my insides as I trembled and squeezed him. Fuck. I was mesmerized every time by the way we fit perfectly together. I lost myself, closing my eyes, in the magic of shimmering sweat between our bodies, the magic of color he brought from the world, from me. My fingernails dug into his triceps as I collapsed into him. He bit softly the skin above my collarbone and I tangled my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. Hearts beating together.
Just holding and sensing one another for a few minutes until we laughed and he said, “Please let me always be lost like this with you.” We were momentarily lost on the island that night, lost in ecstatic moments of magic with each other. But as long as we were together, we weren’t lost at all. We were found. We wandered the night without shelter, but we had sacred shelter in each other. This man was the journey of my life and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.