7

One Night In Heaven

I couldn't believe where my walk had ended. But in the depths of my subconscious mind, I knew where I would end up. There was a distinct chill on the air in the corridor that Monday night. It was getting late, and there wasn't a sound to be heard. My stomach was twisted in nervousness as I reached out towards the door. I knocked gently, breaking the silence. Soon afterwards, I heard some shuffling. "Hang on," she called. Her voice was warm like velvet, but seemed to be far away. The door's lock snapped loudly, and I started. There was more shuffling, then a pause. "Come in." I gingerly turned the knob and gently pushed the door open. I poked my head around the edge.

She was sitting up in bed, staring into space as she held the phone to her ear. The elbow of the arm that was holding it was pinning a doona around her. It was the most comfortable looking doona you could imagine. One that was surely filled with the softest, warmest down in the whole world. I was sure that the cosy warmth in the room emanated from her, and the pillows and soft toys that she was snuggled between.

I was suddenly aware that I was allowing a cold draught slice into her toasty little room. Quickly, I slid through the doorway, and eased the door shut behind me. She was frowning as she listened to the person on the other end of the phone. It upset me to see her frowning. I crept over to her bed, crouched down on the carpet and put my head next to hers. I pretended to listen to the conversation as I absorbed her body heat. She glanced at me and I smiled. Her frown changed to a thoughtful grin.

I sat there for a few minutes, content to be close to her. I was overjoyed to hear her voice, despite its somewhat angry tone. "Hang up," I eventually whispered. She nodded, and made up some excuse. The dial tone was music to my ears, and I took the phone from her and set it down on the floor.

She started to tell me about the call, but I wasn't listening. I was mesmerized by her face. I watched her lips flap softly, and felt something within my soul become tender. I forgot my anxiety then, and I interrupted her. "You're so beautiful," I told her. We were face to face, and I was staring into her bright eyes. Her expression was bemused. I rubbed the back of my fingers against her soft, smooth cheek, and a quizzical grin appeared. Her eyes probed my face from under her raised eyebrows. My hand drifted into her silky hair, and lingered there.

"Am I now?" she said. She sounded doubtful. Bringing her hand up to meet mine, she closed her fingers gently around my wrist. She pushed it away.

"Absolutely and completely," I said dreamily. She smiled, but looked at me reprovingly. There was a pause as I laid my hands in my lap and just beamed at her. She opened her mouth to say something, and I waited. She avoided my eyes.

"It's just a crush. You'll get over it," she eventually murmured.

"Perhaps," I told her, as I let out a deep breath. After some further thought I added, "I think it's love." Her eyes snapped back to look at me.

"You love me?" she mocked, with a quick snort of her cute nose. She focused on the floral designs on her doona. Her voice was a little softer as she added, "Do you really think we're close enough for love?"

I looked down into my lap, and shed a tear. I quickly moved my finger to intercept it innocuously. I swallowed before saying, "We were close a minute ago."

She frowned, and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly. She looked up at me, and must've noticed my glassy eyes. "Have I hurt you?" she asked sympathetically.

I opened my mouth to say "yes", but I knew my voice would squeak, so I just nodded gently.

"Why do you pay so much attention to me?" she asked, shaking her head.

My face twisted, and the tears began to flow freely. I felt like I should leave. I felt like I shouldn't have come. "I am in love with you. I have been for months. I'm just too..."

"Shy. I know. You told me, remember."

"You never replied to my letter. I told myself I wasn't chasing you any more after that."

"What made you change your mind?" she enquired.

I considered her question for a moment. It was hard to tell what exactly made me pursue her again. It was a mixture of many things. Things that would take too long to relate to her. I floundered about my mind for a particular incident. "Last week. The skirt and the stockings," I stammered. She rolled her eyes in distaste. "No, I really liked them on you. I like black stockings. I think they're very... attractive." I seized up then.

"And you call that love, do you?"

"No!" I cried, bowing my head. My voice changed to a creaky whisper. "Look, just forget it. I'll go." I wiped some of the teary dew of my face with my sleeve and scrambled to my feet. I nearly tripped on her mat, and had to steady myself using her desk. I was really flustered now, my mind was a blur.

It had all gone so wrong. The worst case scenario. I briskly started across the room towards the door. I turned around for a final glimpse of my dream girl, only to see her getting out of bed. Wearing a red T-shirt nightie, a cuddly white teddy bear printed on it, she came over to me. She stretched out her arms towards me in a childlike gesture. I just stood there, and wiped my eyes with my sleeve again. She smiled as if nothing had happened, and came closer. Her arms slowly went around my shoulders and she rested her head on my right shoulder. I just stood there, dumbfounded.

"You hugged me," I whispered.

"I hug everybody," she replied.

"No. Before you hugged everyone except me. Even when I gave you..." I whimpered, before she made a sh sound. I tried to keep my breathing regular, but my lungs kept shuddering. We stood there for ages. After a while I noticed that she was gently rocking me. It was so soothing being in her arms, letting myself move with her. I returned her cuddling.

"I'd better go," I said. She didn't move. I gently turned my head to see if she had fallen asleep. But she was just quietly staring at a poster on the wall behind me. Her contented expression made me turn up the corners of my mouth. Then her eyes looked to me, and I started to chuckle gently.

"What is it?" she asked slowly.

"Gee, you're adorable."

She looked back to the poster. "Explain how," she said.

I looked at her profile, and all the expressions I had ever seen on her face flitted through my mind in an instant. In profile, the curl in the bridge of her nose was prominent. "Just your expressions. The way your eyes are so wide and bright... and your nose is so... I don't know." She didn't reply. I waited a few minutes.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked, as a lump appeared in my throat at the thought of leaving her embrace.

"Don't go," she said. After a brief pause she added, "Unless you want to."

"Can we sit down then?" Again, I waited a while before she replied. Suddenly she blurted, "Okay," and released her embrace. Instantly I felt cold, and my arms followed her for a few seconds as she shuffled over to the bed. She picked up two of her pillows and threw them to me.

"Put them against the wall," she said. "And drag the rug over." I did as she asked, but couldn't let my eyes stop looking at her. She put her favourite teddy under one arm as she hauled the doona off her bed. I just stood and watched as she sat down against one of the pillows. She pulled the doona over her. She looked up at me, and grinned sheepishly.

"Sit down, then," she suggested, turning over a corner of the doona where the second pillow was. I hesitated, unsure of what I was doing. I was worried that she had misunderstood. I didn't want to exploit her friendliness.

"I don't think we should," I said. Part of me screamed in anguish at what I had said. The idea had crossed my mind, but never lingered much longer than an instant. I was acutely embarrassed, and felt my face start to warm into a blush.

She laughed at this. "Should what? Look, we're just going to talk. We're going to sort this thing out," she clucked. She patted the space on the mat beside her. I moved towards it cautiously. Then she reached out her hand and gave my arm a gentle tug. I slid to my knees and crawled over to her. I leaned back against the pillow and turned to look at her. She looked at me thoughtfully, before reaching over and pulling the doona up around my chest. I hooked it under my arm. The embarrassment and nervousness gradually faded away.

We didn't speak for a while. I just looked around the room, remembering all the awkward moments with her that had preceded this. I call her room Heaven, because it is just so warm and happy. I always imagined Heaven with lots of clouds, putting fuzzy edges on everything. Like a dream. Being in her room is a lot like a dream. The outside world seems disconnected; cold and miserable. Heaven is full of many beautiful things. And most beautiful of all was the angel that was sitting beside me. I turned to her, but didn't say anything.

She had been looking at me. Her empty face smiled gently as I probed it more intensely than ever before. "How do you feel?" I asked out loud.

"About what?" she asked in response, tilting her head slightly.

"Tell me your feelings. What are you feeling now?"

She sighed, and looked down at the doona. She didn't speak straight away. Her mouth contorted as she seemed to trial the first words in a response. Eventually, she looked back to me and, in her softest voice, replied, "Content. I think I'm just tired, but my mind is sort of... I don't know... blurry. Like nothing's really happening."

"Couldn't have put it better," I said, as softly as I could manage. I grinned a little.

She looked suddenly interested. "Same for you, is it?"

I shrugged, as my eyes left her face and passed over her side of the doona. "Probably not exactly," I said, looking down at the doona in front of me. "But close, I think," I added. At that moment a vision of her naked body entered my mind. No detail, just soft curves and dark shadows. It was a forbidden thought, perhaps one that she knew I was having. At that instant she began speaking, and it startled me. I almost thought she was going to stand me in the corner for imagining her in her most private state.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, parting her lips slightly, looking deeply into my eyes.

I was about to lie but her eyes somehow drew the truth from me. "I had undressed you. I'm sorry." I said, watching for her response with ice in my veins. Her expression didn't change. Had she heard me?

"Is it... you know..." she stammered, looking a little unsure of herself. I frowned for a second as my mind tried to decipher her question. I watched her eyes deviate slightly. I followed her stare, and suddenly felt as if I was totally exposed, with no chance to hide myself.

"Ah... Um..." I mumbled as I fidgeted. Initially I felt uncomfortable, but then I looked down and found that the doona was betraying every detail of her size and shape. She was as exposed as I was. She had a right to enquire, so I nodded gently. "I'm sorry. I'm really trying to..."

She grinned nervously. "Don't apologise," she whispered, slowly moving her hand to touch mine. Her touch was electric, and I felt an internal shiver as her warm skin made contact with mine. "I'm sure I'd be the same way... if, well, you know."

"I like touching you," I murmured, as our index fingers rubbed gently against one another.

"It's very... exciting," she breathed. She pulled her hand away and I exhaled slowly. She shuddered as she took her hand under the doona. She edged away slightly, and avoided my eyes.

"Don't you like it?"

"I liked it too much. I shouldn't."

I considered her point. I waited for her eyes to look at me. Her expression was hard to read. A mixture of uncertainty and defiance. "Just touch me again." I whispered, as I leaned towards her slightly, She looked at me with worried eyes. An unspoken question flowed through the warm air between us, and I gently nodded my head in reassurance. She shuddered. After a short pause, her hand reached over to me under the covers. It slid over my belly and my breathing faltered. It found the top of my pants and wandered inside. A finger gently poked at my member through my briefs, and I took a very, very deep breath and held it, Reality took another step backward, and the clouds advanced.

She pulled her hand away. And looked towards the window. But the curtains were drawn, masking her attempts to re-establish contact with the outside world. It was no use, we were alone. Just me, her, and the complete silence which filled the room. We had both stopped breathing now. I didn't even think to stop holding my breath until several seconds had passed. I let out a long sigh, breaking the silence.

"I can't believe I did that." she whispered hoarsely, as if my sigh had awoken her from a trance.

"Believe me," I said softly, "you most certainly did." I extended my hand to her hair, and gently toyed with it. This time she didn't push my hand away. She seemed disconnected, and didn't even notice my sweeping movements. I was almost shaking, and I wondered why she hadn't made me leave. And now she had touched me.

Time passed slowly, as I tried desperately to read her expression. She almost looked like a guilty child, but there was something that didn't ring true. She stared blankly at the doona, as if hanging her head in shame. I waited for her to say something, as I continued to caress her hair.

"I suppose... it's your turn," she finally murmured. I suspended my hand in her hair.

"Only if you're sure."

She looked at me and twisted her face slightly. We stared at each others faces for a while. Eventually, she took a deep breath and nodded quickly. After a pause I let my hand climb down from her locks and under the covers. My fingers reached down and found her warm, bare thigh. She closed her eyes. I skimmed it further, as my hand slid under her nightie and came to rest on a mound of soft cotton. She breathed out gently as I lowered my hand and let it mould to the contours of her crotch. With a sharp gasp, the angel beside me looked upward. Her face went fuzzy in my eyes, and I carefully withdrew my hand.

For a second I thought she was going to scream in terror, and summon the entire floor to her rescue. A fear like no other surged through me. I was going to run away, but I couldn't move. I was frozen. What had I done? I was suddenly sure that I had imagined her request. After all, she would never have allowed me to touch her, even through cotton. But when she met my gaze, she was smiling. The uncertainty had suddenly vanished from her face. Her expression allowed me to remember what my fingers had just felt. A strange feeling was building in the pit of my stomach.

Without warning, her side of the doona was in the air. It seemed to hang in mid-air for a while, before it drifted back down. When it came to rest, the angel was no longer in sight. Her hands appeared on my stomach and curled around my pants, pulling them down. Then she was inside my briefs. "Tell me if it hurts," she called quietly. Her hands danced about around my penis curiously. Her finger rested on the tip and she pressed gently. I had to close my eyes, as my head tilted, my neck suddenly unable to support it anymore.

She drained the last resistive energies from my body as her fingertip passed over, and around and down the tip of my penis. I felt like I was floating, finding myself carelessly drifting through a psychedelic dreamland of dynamic colour. My breathing had become deep and irregular, as my distracted consciousness corrupted my involuntary bodily functions. My heart rate seemed like it was off the scale. I kept telling myself that it was real, and then my rational mind laughed at such a preposterous suggestion.

"They've cut you, haven't they?" she murmured as she wrapped her thumb and forefinger around my member and let them slide down, mapping the network of veins under the tight skin. A sweat was building on my forehead, and my eyes opened to try and grip reality. But it was just a blur. The world was spinning, and I was getting more dizzy by the second. I was going to reply to the girl's question, but all I got out was a long moan.

She tugged the doona from around my chest and her head popped up. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. One of her hands was cupping my balls, while the other lifted the doona so I could dimly see what was keeping her occupied. Freezing, she quietly asked "Too much for you?" Her expression was playful, but a slight nervousness had reappeared. I tried to say something. It took a while before the words became audible.

"...great. But, if you don't stop, I think I might... you know." I stammered,

"Oh," she said, as she pulled her hand away quickly. My genitals still tingled, and in my mind all her motions were being played again and again. Every single detail, over and over, faster and faster. My head was spinning.

I smiled and mouthed "Thank you."

"Not a problem," she said with a wide and beautiful smile. Laying herself down on my chest, her forehead resting just upon my chin, she let the doona engulf our bodies again. But this time we were against each other, feeling each other's irregular breathing and marathon heat beats. We just snuggled together for ages, as my penis drooped and a little order returned to my dazed consciousness.

I kissed her on the top of the head. She stirred. Her head lifted and hovered above my face. Slowly her lips descended onto mine and an airlock was established, our mouths twisting around each other. Our lips played alone for a while, occasionally losing suction and breaking away for a tiny moment. Then came the tip of her tongue, licking our united lips. I let mine rise to meet it and they pushed at each other for a while. Then they slid past each other and around each other, probing our mouths with slow and delicate strokes. They played as we put our arms around each other and held on tight.

I could feel the shape of her breasts as they rubbed against me through her nightie and my windcheater. My penis rose again and pushed itself at her. She pulled away, and rolled onto the floor beside me. Our breathing was now very ragged and heavy. We lay there, neither of us saying a word, for a very long time. Our hands were still bound together. and we both were content to watch the ceiling.

"Your turn again, I think," she said calmly, in her luscious voice. She was real enough, her voice restoring a sense of reality to the whole occasion. It was really happening, I told myself. It had to be real. Dreams could never ever hope to be so completely overwhelming. I turned to her face again, and we smiled at each other warmly. Then she giggled. And I chuckled. Suddenly she sat up and pulled her nightie over her head, and tossed it to the side. My jaw dropped and I gaped at the wondrous sight before me. Everything was so perfect- and tangible. My hand waded out towards her right breast and I rubbed it gently with my fingertip. She rolled her eyes up and seemed to tense a little.

I hesitated, pausing to listen to her gasping breaths. Although she seemed tense, I didn't think she wanted me to stop. I started using my entire hand to feel her breast, to cup it in my hands. She shivered as my hand brushed her nipple. She looked at me then, an expression with devious eyes and a sinister smile. It didn't seem like she was herself anymore, as if she had suddenly lost the childlike qualities I favoured. I began to appreciate that her personality was much deeper than I would have cared to imagine. Although it scared me a little to see her in such a different light, I was relieved to find that I still found her the most adorable person in the universe, real or imagined.

She closed her eyes, as I continued to feel and touch her gently with my hands, learning the shape of her breasts, imprinting the sensations on my mind. I only noticed then that she had tightly been holding my thighs. I slid my hands down her sides and let one glide over her stomach. She grasped my legs more tightly as my finger glided over her navel. My hand found the edge of her briefs, and I looked at her closed eyes. They fluttered open at my hesitation. She looked at me with such caring eyes. I sensed then that she was starting to feel a little of the adoration for me that I had for her.

I smiled wickedly at her and she slowly closed her eyes again, She arched her back slightly as I uncovered her sex. I was surprised to find her briefs and hair were a little gooey. I carefully slid my hand through the hair, clearing away the liquid. I cautiously drew the hand away and brought it near to my nose. I sniffed tentatively, and found the scent strangely familiar yet completely new. I inhaled a little more deeply, and I think that I liked the scent because, without a thought, my tongue was out and slid along the tops of my fingers. Initially I screwed up my face at the salty taste and the hygiene warning bells ringing in my head. But before I could stop myself, I found myself tasting the stuff, sucking it from my fingers like melted chocolate. I continued to analyse the bitter, yet sweet taste it brought to my mouth. I shook my head gently as I thought of where the stuff had come from. I was drinking her, for God's sake!

The world started to bend and twist around me, distorting itself into crazy shapes. I had to close my eyes. Suddenly I was tumbling down a waterslide, only I wasn't sliding on water. The taste in my mouth intensified the moment I shut my eyes, and I found myself overwhelmed by disbelief. It seemed so impossible that this girl was letting me taste her. I continued to savour her cocktail of aphrodisiacal flavours in a state of dizzying ecstasy.

She held my shoulder and my eyes sprang back open. The world refocused, and I found myself looking at her again. I still had the tang in my mouth to remind me that it was all quite real. And as I flexed my fingers slightly I could feel the residual dry stickiness that her juices had left on me.

She laughed gently. "Yummy?"

"Mmm..." I said, licking my lips profusely. She chuckled and I started to laugh with her. We were laughing together, and I loved it. I started tickling her under the ribs, and we rolled around for a while. Just tickling and giggling. Squealing and grunting. Eventually she was laying down and I was stretched out on my side beside her. We were both panting, and I was aching from all the laughter and tingling from all the ticking. We rested for a while, and I just let my eyes caress her body. She was just so utterly perfect in my eyes.

I reached out to feel her again. But this time I rubbed my hand around her crotch, feeling the folds under her entrance. I slid past a little lump and stopped. I rubbed it gently between my thumb and forefinger, and air rushed out of it's owner's mouth. I moved both of my hands around her vulva, held her and continued to rub the lump with my thumbs, a little faster, Her breathing was a little ragged, but she was relaxed. Really relaxed. Her eyes were restful, but an animated smile betrayed her mindfulness. As I continued to massage her, I wondered what she was thinking about.

A tiny movement startled me for an instant. But I continued to feel around, to rub and to slide my fingers, spellbound by the fact that she was letting it all happen. Even enjoying it. Then she started to move under my hands, in the most remarkable way. She started to gasp, and she even uttered a low moan. I withdrew my hands then and rested them on her thighs. I just watched her gyrate, and gasp, and moan, for the relatively short time it lasted.

All was calm again. I lay down beside her on the floor. I pulled the doona over us and lay the side of my head on the pillow. I was looking mindlessly into her ear, replaying the whole damned affair in my mind. I suppose I was in a mild state of shock. No matter how much I thought about it, tried to rationalize it all, the more amazing it seemed that such a profoundly wonderful series of events had just taken place.

Several minutes elapsed before she turned to face me. She looked as shocked, as ecstatic and as satisfied as I was. We just stared at each other. Then without warning, we started chuckling quietly. Then all sound was gone, and we just stared some more.

"Thank you," I whispered. She nodded slightly.

"It was great, wasn't it?"

"The best."

"Hm." she sighed. We closed our eyes, and our hands came together under the doona.

It was a long time before anything else happened. We were just too darn happy to let it end, I think. But, suddenly the girl released my hand and sat up. I opened my eyes and saw her looking down at me. I could see in her face that it was over.

"I think we sorted that out, don't you?" she asked, in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh, yes" I said. "Emphatically."

She looked down at the doona, and lowered her voice. "Do you still think you love me?"

"Would you like that?"

She screwed up her face in thought for a second, and then nodded. "That'd be cool," she said quickly, getting up. She turned away from me and slid back into her nightie. I sighed as her pert buttocks vanished behind a wall of red cotton.

I stood up and she turned around again.

"I love you," I whispered. She smiled broadly, and leaned toward me.

"And you're my special friend," she whispered back, gently holding my hand. She rubbed her finger affectionately against it, and added very quietly, "I love you too."

I tried to think of more to say. But it had all been said. "I'd better go."

"Yes. That'd be best," she said. She frowned gently and looked away.

I started to make my way towards the door, and her hand followed me. I stopped. Then her head turned back, and she looked at me with a solemn face. I smiled softly.

"You know, it shouldn't have happened," she whispered, before moving to kiss me on the cheek. I put my hand on the door handle as she drew back. I slowly turned it, and carefully pulled the door open. Light and warmth from Heaven spilled into the cold corridor. I turned to look at her one last time.

"It never really did, did it? It was all just a blurry dream." I replied, with a wink. With that, I turned and passed through the doorway. Heaven dissolved behind me. I blinked, and found that the real world was back. As I disappeared down a dimly lit corridor, the only evidence of that night in Heaven, a strand of red cotton, fell from my sleeve and drifted down to the floor. It cringed at the coldness outside Heaven and slowly faded from existence.

[Previous chapter] [In French] [Next chapter]


Exit: Make-Believe; Kasoft Typesetting; Archer


This work is a part of the Kasoft Typesetting storybook Make-Believe

Kasoft is a registered trademark of Kasoft Software, owned by Kade Hansson.

Copyright 1994,1996,1997 Kade "Archer" Hansson; e-mail: kasoft@kaserver5.org