A Sunday Afternoon's Heat

A Sunday afternoon’s heat by Robert René

         

As the waves swashed over the surrendered white sands of Raven Island, the moon danced in full splendor. Their footprints disappeared with every passing backwash of the ocean as Dax and Melonie created their path to heaven. Each footprint a fruition of a meticulous plan that was conjured on a concrete table 3 days ago at Serenity Park. A group of young adults from a church group often meets every Sunday to socialize, play games and have rap sessions with the elders of the church. Located in the heart of Castries, this newly built treasure was living up to its expectation of creating a relaxing setting in a busy city. Ricky Federo, the mastermind behind the conception, was a politician with no limited vision. When his political party granted him the portfolio of Minister of Housing, he immediately got to work in beautifying the rustic city of Castries. Updating its public facilities, putting policies in place to preserve the old Victorian architectural Relics near the Nobel Laureate’s Square, and changing the once baron and unsightly Castries shore line into a family park. One that will be the birth place for many dreams and aspirations.

         The young people were done expressing their blatant views of their beloved institution that hot Sunday afternoon, and pockets of friends dispersed around the park subsequently. Ice cream carts were being pushed around from every corner by hustlers hoping to strike gold with every flogging of the brazen ray of sunlight. While everyone was tired of thinking, Dax was busy trying to get a glimpse of the only reason he came to the gathering.
Melonie was soft. Her skin was like fine brass, visibly smooth and of a caramel color. Her thick natural hear was often combed in an afro blowout as she often believed it accentuated her cheek bones. When he stared into her bright hazel eyes, he could not overpower his desire to have her caged in his arms like it was to become her new home. She sat about ten yards across the park with her best friend Tracy, talking about the awful vegetarian dish they just had for lunch. It was 2:35pm and she felt the all-encompassing presence of his dark eyes hovering over her, begging her to connect. She inconspicuously turned to catch a glimpse of his dark chocolaty complexion and his manly face. She smiled a wry smile and stared deep into his being.

         As she peered, helplessly subdued in his dungeon, the sun shut its eyes behind him and they were alone. The chill of the night only made him hotter as he rose slowly from his table. An untouched cup of vanilla ice cream with a honey glaze simmered on top, cupped in his hand as though a present for his queen. The rest of the park became imperceptible as his eyes locked in hers and his inward breath pulled him closer to her waiting self. He could see her nipples through her red tank top and he could hear her breathing heavier with every yard he advanced in her direction. Now he was inches away from her face. She could smell the peppermint trident he was chewing earlier as he breathed into her nostrils as though to give her life. She shut her eyes as the palm of his hands glided on her left cheek bone and she was lost. The brim of his lips were beautifully outlined and extremely bowlike. Melonie often told him he should model them. She loved how soft and rosy they were. He often purposely teased her by hydrating them with a swiping of the tongue from right to left resulting in a soft glow. The hairs on her neck were troubled as the goose pimples came with the planting of his plump lips on her shoulder. She faded with the light as she closed her eyes, relishing the electricity that ran through her brain down to her voluptuous breast, around her navel, between her thighs, down to her toes and back up between her thighs. She was dripping wet.

         Dax’s rough hands were gentle as they glided slowly down her side and then up again, lifting the red tank top. Her breast full and upright. Her nipples expressed her obvious thoughts, “I want you”. He lifted her flared pink and white floral linen skirt to her waist and slowly pulled down her black cotton tanga underwear. She sat on the table at the park and spread her legs as though she was about to give birth with Dr. Dax going in for a closer look. Dax found peace, Melonie found life. Her clitoris pulsated under the tip of his tongue and heaven was conceived. As he traversed his tongue lower into her urethral orifice, her mouth arrested her lips as she felt the sweet urge to moan. “Oh My God”, She fluxed a perpetual moan. The urge was overpowering. Dax was in ego glory. He felt his testosterone multiply as he savored the satisfaction of his partner. He wiped her vulva with an upward motion and then a voice beckoned behind him. “Do you kids want something cold to take care of that heat? I’ve got just the right flavor today. Vanilla topped with a honey glaze on top. It is sweet and sure to cool you down”. The ice-cream man bellowed. Dax darted a frantic look in the man’s direction, then turned around and glanced at his IPhone 7. It was 2:36pm.