Gone

The door closed, he leant against it, the last guests gone. He undid his shirt’s top button, closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He pushed himself from the door, he hung the blazar over the back of a chair as he walked past the dining table covered in empty plates, platters and glasses.

Heavy feet trudged up the stairs. He leant in the doorway of her room, the machines now silent, the one that rose a fell with a hiss stilled, the gentle hum from the air purifier gone. Fresh sheets were tight over her bed. The pillow where her head had lain for him to kiss each night was plump.

The lavender scent hung in the air, he breathed deeply letting it fill him, flooding him with memories of walking through purple fields of May. Her laughter as she skipped and danced, the summer dress billowing. He joined the dance until they tumbled to the soft floor together.

He felt the tear running down his cheek, following the path of many before it, he didn’t wipe it away, it wouldn’t stop the next.

A hand pressed against his shoulder, he sighed at the familiar touch. His hand went over his shoulder to greet it, fingers interlacing. They stood in silence looking into the vacant room.

“You should get some sleep,” A voice whispered in his ear.

He let himself be led to his room, at the entrance he hesitated, it had been years since they had shared it, before she moved in with the machines. But the empty bed seemed desperately lonely.

Continuing they reached the guest room. He sat on the edge of the single bed. A small cabinet beside the bed held a golden frame. He picked up the photograph, bride and bridesmaid smiling, clutching bundles of lavender. A tear dropped on the glass running slowly over the white dress.

The bridesmaid wiped another tear from his cheek, as she sat beside him. He leant his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. Stroking his hair, her fingertips gently curling amongst the thicker locks at the back. He sighed breathing in the aroma of peach body wash.

His arm curled around her waist, squeezing her tight. His heart slowed, anxious thumping replaced with calm drumming.

Her hand slowly moved from the back of his head to under his chin, gently lifting him. Soft lips pressed against his, their pink glaze sticky to the touch. His tongue licked gently at the sweetness and her lips parted.

The kiss was slow, not rushed or forced, their tongues grazing each other. His rough hand moved to her thigh, sliding over the thin cotton. Dainty fingers unbuttoned his shirt, revealing curling grey hairs.

She pulled back, “Are you sure?” She asked.

“Are you?” He replied in a trembling voice.

She pulled her thin dress up her body. His hand went to the back of her neck pulling her into a kiss. They rolled and fell, her back landing on the bed, him above her.

He kissed her body, moving down the bed, her soft, smooth, peach-scented skin had a faint saltness. Her fingers delved into his peppered hair gently encouraging him onwards. He dragged thin panties down, clearing the path for his kisses. Neatly trimmed light-brown hair tickled him as he continued.

His mouth pushed forward, kissing fleshy lips, tongue pushing forward to part them. She gasped as his tongue found its prey.

She pulled him back up, eager to take control. Rolling over they switched positions. She rose up, knees straddling his hips, she reached behind her to free him. Grinning. she impaled herself upon him, then reached behind her back to free her breasts.

He groaned as her hips slowly circled, her young soft body above his middle-aged one, pert breasts tipped in pink pushed out as her spine arched. His hands gripped her thighs a thin sheen of sweat forming as rolled back and forth atop him.

He grabbed her, pulling her down against his chest, with a groan he pushed up into her to finish. She lay panting, listening to his heart, drifting off to sleep.