Sunday 2:35 a.m.  The end of a long road

Time slowed... as it does when the great tumblers of fate and providence and desire revolve until they find that one perfect alignment that unlocks something magical.  When the shackles binding two lonely guarded hearts are left behind and the ocean they contain begin to pour out and mix together; a rushing of turbulent waters, calm placid seas and strong hidden currents.  It was the kind of flood that can drown... or can carry away those riding it to someplace they never imagined.

Sam was transported back to the beginning of the journey, back to Russell's study and that silly old red chair where it all began.  Random moments flickered in her mind, as if the lightning they were riding had suddenly flashed and illuminated their journey, just for a few precious seconds before winking out again.  Russell's ire at finding her in his footy shirt.  The look of disappointed disbelief on his face when she'd licked that vegemite from the spoon with relish.  Their fight in the sauna that had bubbled between them for days before exploding spectacularly by that old coral fence.  The way his eyes had glittered pressing his luck with her before their dunking in his cold plunge.  The kiss in his study.  Waking in his bed.  Saying goodbye.  Watching from the helicopter through tear-blurred eyes the Farm disappeared.  Welcoming her peacock back into her arms again.  Being held in his.  What a long way they'd come from him shouting the house down for Mark because he'd found some strange woman in his study.

Russell wondered at the curious smile on Sam's face.  He kissed her softly and tenderly brushed her hair back from her face.  "Where are you, Sammy?"

Her smile deepened.  "Where are you, Crowe?"

"Me?"  She felt him sigh with pleasure as he snuggled closer.  "I think I'm home, love." 

Tears glittered in her eyes.  "End of the road, huh?" she said softly, her hand gentle upon his expressive face.

He shook his head.  "Nah... just the beginnin'."    

Sam felt her heart leap.  He was right.  Tonight was the beginning of so very many things.  His smile was warm... but wanting too.  He was tender but it was also very apparent that this was not the Russell who'd once shared a bed with her platonically.  That had been soft and gentle and he was on the prowl now, in a romantic but definitely all conquering way.  He was nothing short of enthralling, and tonight had been.... one of those truly magical nights where everything seems heightened.  The stars glow brighter.  The band plays the perfect song.  You dance without ever touching the ground, in perfect step.  Bodies in exact rhythm.  Hearts open.  Anticipating...

Russell had imagined this very moment, planned for it, and even as it was slowly unfolding in its own way, every now and again he would almost seem to step outside of it, as if looking on it from a great distance and it would fill him with a quiet sort of pride.  He'd had a hand in making this moment with someone he loved beautiful and special.  There were a thousand little details he'd maneuvered that nobody but him would probably ever notice-- and yet he appreciated every last one of them as he looked down into Sam's face and saw the joy radiating from it.          

He took note of it, of the moon visible from their bed, of the way the air smelled faintly of lilacs from the flowers he'd had delivered early this morning so their scent would have time to perfume the room.  He'd even counted his drinks tonight and cut himself off at just the right moment so that he'd be buzzed when they arrived at the hotel ready for a bit of silly fun.... but by the time they made it to bed, he was more or less sober.  He wanted to remember every moment of this.  He wanted to enable her, but he was not completely without a need to try and read what she wanted-- or for her to be aware of what he wanted too.

It was a calculated blend of playful and serious.  For all the lightness they'd shared tonight, there were some deep things moving beneath the surface for both of them.  And he'd seen it all.... from the wet sheen in her eyes-- to the questions he knew she still wanted to ask him about what he'd said tonight during the concert-- to her erotically guilty flush when she saw him fingering the neck of the champagne bottle.  Sam had a great deal of polish but she wasn't sexually sophisticated enough to hide anything, nor did it seem she particularly tried to.  Not with him, anyway, and he was a master at reading that sort of subtext. 

From the moment he'd seen her holding up that ridiculous peacock sign, he'd been searching all the time to read her desire.  It wasn't the first time he'd done so-- but both of them could feel it was infused with something..... unique.  Tonight was about penetration.  That was the difference.  He had already done it to her mouth.  A shudder ran through his body at the memory.  Now he'd done it with his fingers.  Soon, very soon, they would move forward again and he'd put yet another part of himself inside her.  He was circling her-- like some spiral drawing closer and closer with every pass until she was his in every way. 

He was learning, enjoying her responses to him and also enjoying the shift from innate gentleness to a more aggressively erotic give and take of power.  He was feeling that power now.  Their interlude in the backstage bathroom had ramped things up even as it took the edge off for him.  He was still splitting out of his skin with the desire to make love to her but the truth was he was forty not twenty.  He didn't walk around with a perpetual hard-on regardless of what anyone said, though it certainly didn't keep him from feeling desire.  He now understood the value of letting something ripen until the perfect moment so that what he harvested was sweet indeed.  What had happened with Sam backstage had slowed him down into the perfect rhythm.  He'd be able to go all night now.

Their little sipping kisses were getting deeper.  He noted with no small amount of satisfaction that her breathing was getting deeper too as he began the next phase of his seduction.  There was so very much he wanted to do and see and experience with her--  it was almost as if it was new again.  In a way it was.  He could take them anywhere.  

Anywhere.           

They stood on the edge of possibility; at the mouth of forever.  It was heady stuff, even for an old hand like Russell.  He had a lot of experience but very little of it was with women who returned the depth and breadth of his emotion.  After so many weeks apart it was impossible to describe the feeling of peace that filled him just having her laying next to him, under his gaze, her soft skin under his palm and the scent of her filling his head.  For a time he was content to just lay there feeling the press of her body, touching as much of her as he could; not just with his hands but with his whole body.  Legs entangled, a slow endless caress as his hands wandered over her creamy skin, the satiny brush of butterfly kisses as they whispered softly as lovers do.

Though Sam reveled in his slow masterful seduction, there was a part of her that found it confusing.  Why wasn't he moving on top of her?  He was ready.  His meaty cock was hard and throbbing and her caresses had already begun to milk a sweet trickle of clear fluid from his tip.  It wasn't so much that Sam was consciously comparing him to Jimmy, they were two totally different men; miles apart in maturity and technique-- it was more that the unhurried languor of it was so foreign to her that she didn't quite know how to react.  She'd never before experienced lovemaking where the whole driving point of it all wasn't her partner's gratification.  In her limited experience, the idea of a man taking pleasure in foreplay and enjoying it for the act itself rather than as something he only did because it got him one step closer to actual sex was more than just a pleasant surprise to Sam; frankly, it was a bit shocking.  

So was his playful openness.  She wasn't used to laughing in bed or intimacy with a partner who not only spoke candidly and encouraged her to respond in kind, but who also listened to her answers and adjusted his lovemaking accordingly.  Sam didn't have a clue.  It wasn't just her limited experience with sex or even his knowledge and imagination.  His candor was another element.  So was his size.  And the fact he knew how to use it.  Something he planned on showing her-- when he was ready.  There were about a hundred things he wanted to do first...  

He was on his side next to her, a possessive hand left on her breast while he nuzzled her neck and whispered love words to her as he sucked on her earlobe and pressed open mouth kisses to her sensitive neck.  Sam moaned softly and Russell smiled.

"Y'like that?"  He could tell she did.  Not only were her nipples hard but she kept turning her neck to bare more of it to his hungry mouth.  Still, her breathy 'yes' gave him a masculine rush of satisfaction.  He liked positive verbal affirmation from his partner the same as any other man.  Perhaps more than most, as it was his chosen medium of expression, whether in front of a camera, behind a guitar, or simply in his private moments with the people he loved.  There were times he preferred silent lovemaking, but the real truth was he adored deeply intimate discourse and there were precious few times when a person was as unguarded as they were in bed, himself included.

Sam shivered when he put his tongue in her ear but she wasn't the only one beginning to really feel it.  Her hand was at the small of his back and her slender middle finger was just teasing at the top of the cleft between the rounded globes of his arse.  It was a sensual caress that wasn't invasive but the indirect stimulation to such a sensitive erogenous zone was making it hard to concentrate.  And it was making him drip.  Swiping a finger with a rough carelessness over the exposed pink tip of his erection, he gathered the fresh moisture there and spread it over her nipple, plucking and pinching the hard slippery little bud, chucking when he plucked it a little more roughly and her breath caught in response. 

Way out of her depth, but not to be outdone, Sam caught his eye and dipped a finger between her legs.  His eyebrow went up but she didn't miss the deep glitter in his eyes when they darkened with arousal as he watched her paint his flat brown nipple with her essence before playing with it until it was as hard as her own. 

"Mmmm."  His low hum of pleasure made her smile.

"Y'like that?" she teased using his same inflection.  She scratched her nails lightly over him and he groaned.

"Mmmm.... Yessss."  The hand he'd had resting on her belly slipped lower and he smiled as his fingertips touched her soft hair.  The contrast between that and the slippery wetness he found below made his head spin and his lust spiked sharply.  "So wet.... Y'feel so good..."

"Russsss..." 

His fingers stroked but he didn't penetrate her.  Another idea had come to him and though he thought it might be a bit too salty for her, he couldn't resist gathering a generous amount of her sweet honey and smearing it over his nipple before he reached for her neck and curled his big fingers around her nape, pulling her mouth down to it.  She didn't resist.  If anything, the sight of her parting lips only excited him more.

"Taste yourself on me."  The swirl of her tongue sent a flash of fire licking along his spine, from nipple to cock.  The scrape of her teeth and the slight stinging bite she gave him made him judder against her in pleasure.  "Jesus!"  She lifted her head.  Her mouth was wet, lips red and slightly swollen.  "D'ya like it?"  Sam flushed and nodded.  The heat under Russell's skin burned higher.  "Tell me how you taste."  He seemed unable to look away from her mouth.

"Sweet."   

"Let me see."  His mouth dipped down to cover hers and his tongue pushed boldly into her mouth to stroke against hers, savoring the musky flavor lingering there.  He broke the kiss.  "So sweet..."  Sam shivered at his open sensuality as he lifted his hand to his face and held his fingers to his mouth and nose, closing his eyes in ecstasy as he inhaled her most intimate scent.  "Mmmmm.  Y'smell so good, Sammy." 

Watching him arouse himself with her scent was highly erotic.  It was endearing too; almost as if she could see the connection between his senses and his cock.  He breathed in again and then shuddered and slipped his hand down to squeeze his cock familiarly, almost as if to say... 'I know... it's getting to me too, mate!'

With a sort of happy purring rumble he scooted down a bit, ducking under her leg with a playful grin rather than climbing over it.  With his usual boyish disregard for how he looked, he scooted down a bit more, wiggling to get comfortable as he settled on his stomach between her legs.  Sam would have laughed at his wincing little frown as he was forced to reach under his belly to adjust himself, but the view as he rolled onto one hip and plopped his head into his palm had seemed to suck all the breath from her lungs. 

His cock was rising proudly from a thick scruff of hair and he was holding it while he looked at her.  Not stroking it-- just sort of holding it like a boy might for reassurance or comfort.  Only there was no embarrassment.  No hesitancy.  The truth was the intense visual stimulation had made him crave physical stimulation too; not friction-- he didn't want this to be over too soon... but he definitely needed some pressure to ease the ache the beautiful mouthwatering view before him had caused.     

Sam braced herself for what she assumed would be a full assault, much like what he'd done with his fingers in the shower... but he surprised her again, this time bending in to drop the softest kiss on her mound.  He was unable to keep from giving her most glistening lips the tiniest flick with his tongue, but for the most part it was a very chaste kiss.  Sam noticed the hold he had on his cock had tightened.  He seemed to be waiting for something, only she didn't know what he wanted. 

What Russell wanted was to know her secrets, not just of her body but to know how she brought herself pleasure so that he could then use that knowledge to do what he really wanted, which was hear her beg for him. 

"Pretend I'm on the phone with you, love.  Show me what you did that made you pant so sweetly in my ear," he crooned.  "Lemme see what y'like."  His eyes flicked up to hers; they were wide and startled.  "C'mon, show me, sweetheart..." 

A naughty glint sparkled in his eyes.  "And then show me what you did that time you made me splatter all over my doona with that fuckin' sexy little moan."  He'd been dying to know the answer to that for weeks, and for a person with such an obsessive personality and an expansive imagination, it had been sheer torture. 

His request surprised her.  For a few moments she was still and then she looked away from him so he wouldn't see her blink back the misty veil of tears.  Her young husband had been insecure enough to think it was his failure if she touched herself and tried to make herself come during sex.  He'd accused her of undermining his confidence... although the wake of Russell's soft words, Jimmy hadn't even entered into Sam's thoughts.  It was the freedom Russell had given her to be herself in his bed that had brought tears to her eyes. 

Thankfully it wasn't her eyes that was holding his attention.  He missed the tears but looked up in time to see her smiling somewhat unsteadily at him.  With his usual ebullient candor he just shrugged.  "Hey, how else am I ever going to learn what you like?"  He gave her a dirty grin.  "Plus, it's a fucking turn on.... and... gives my hand a break," he teased.

"Russ!"  Sam's infectious giggle bubbled up.  Imagine laughing in bed with a man?  

"What?  You know how hard it can be on the old wrist..."  Sam was enchanted.  A man who could joke about it while still delivering fantastic sex?  It was a funny little moment, but then one never expects it when life throws an epiphany by way of a curveball.  He was playing.  This was how grownups played.  This was real intimacy.  It was silly and sweet and so damned sexy... and it just felt good to be a part of it, to see behind the veil he usually kept so tightly drawn before the world.

Pillowing his head on her thigh, he rolled over, chortling.  "My back's gone.  Shoulder's playing up.  I may just have to lie here while you...."  He let that hang there, wondering if she'd bite.

"Pretend you're Honey?"

His chortle became a deep rumbling guffaw.  "That's it!  You can give me the spur."  He stroked the long thick length of his cock.  "And I'll give you this... jump on, love..."  He tried to give her is 'sorry but it's all I can manage' face-- but then he ruined it by dissolving into a fit of dirty giggles.                

He rolled back over.  Their eyes met, warm and glittering.  Something electric - something private - passed between them.  A deepening.  Sam suddenly realized it wasn't so odd that they were chatty in bed considering all the phone sex they'd had.  It was a natural extension of that intimacy, however limited it had been.  There was no urgency driving them.  They'd both come once already tonight.  Why shouldn't they enjoy taking their time now?  For the first time they had enough of it not to have to watch the clock, feeling that heavy dread settle into their stomachs as every hour that ticked away brought them closer to goodbye.

Sam stroked his cheek before running her fingers through his newly shorn hair.  "Peacock," she whispered.

"Crowe," he shot back with a grin, taking her hand from his jaw and moving it between her legs.  While he could be a talker, there were also times he could be very silent.  Sam knew he had a tendency to do that when she really hit a nerve; she also knew he did that at times when he was deep in his pleasure. 

He brushed his fingers over hers, his tongue coming to peep out between his lips while he ran a thumb between hers and then reached up to paint her mouth with a shiny smear.  "Show me now, darlin'."  He scooted closer still.  "Let me see...." 

Russell felt Sam's muscles tense under his cheek, where it was resting on her thigh.  "I want to see you pleasure yourself, Sammy... so I can learn..."  His candid admission seemed to cut through every last reserve she had.  Her hand moved.  Her breath caught.  She sighed and stroked and her legs fell open as the pleasure mounted. 

His eyes followed her every movement, committing it to memory, and his breathing changed, growing deeper as the sight excited him.  He let go of his penis and put his hand on her arm to feel her muscles move, to feel the intensity of the pressure she used.  He noticed when her fingertips circled and when they stroked-- and that she seemed to prefer penetration over any other kind of touch.  It made sense with what he knew of her from their phone calls.  She didn't own a vibrator because she said they made her feel numb.  She did, however, own a very expensive dildo made of iridescent glass.  Russell hoped it wasn't bigger than he was-- but it was a fleeting thought. 

With a wicked grin, he put his lips together and blew out softly, trying to see if he could distract Sam.  She sussed his game straight away and did something completely rude with her fingers that sent a wild curl of heat spiraling down into his groin.  The gauntlet had been tossed.  

"You know, I have this fantasy...."  Her fingers stopped and above her pink cheeks her eyes glittered.  Her hand was moving again, ruffling softly; a sort of holding pattern, as if she was waiting to see what he was going to say.  "You.... and Destiny's Child... waving your naked arses in front of me."

Sam gasped in mock outrage.  What a mental image!  What a ham!  While the last man who'd brought mention of other women and his fantasies about them into their bed had made her feel lacking, this time she felt only a deep amusement.  There was a wickedly mischievous gleam in Russell's eye.  He was so hopeless!      

Sam opened her mouth.  Russell held up his hand.  "Don't ruin it!  Not yet..."  He could be such a boy.  Sam bit her lip to keep in the laughter.  "I am telling you... it would be just like Easter Sunday.  You don't know which chocolate to eat first... so you try one and then you lick another."  He paused for dramatic effect as he sighed with absolute relish.  "And then you stick your finger in the soft one...."

He cracked open an eye and waved a hand at her.

"Carry on, love.  I'm doing alright on my own here."

Sam chucked a pillow at him, giddy with laughter as he heaved himself up and crawled over her.  His penis hung awkwardly below, pointing straight out from his groin like some poor misguided rudder.  It swayed as he crawled, a motion he exaggerated with a cocky shake of his hips a moment before he pounced.  Swooped straight in and kissed her with gusto, playfully holding her right where he wanted her.  As if she'd try to get away?

"Rrrrrr...."  He purred playfully against her neck.

"Is this me?  Or Beyonce?"

"Er... not sure..."  A barrage of his giggles burst out against her throat.  "You complaining?"

He didn't wait for an answer; he simply tossed her over and went all romantic on her.  See, that was the thing about Russell.  He could be so playful, silly one minute, sexy another, then wild, then all tearful romantic.  It was so typical of his mercurial moods, and though it had taken Sam a good long while to learn read them, and there were times she still failed miserably, there were also times when he was such an open book to her.  Like now. 

It wasn't really a fantasy he was sharing.  It was more he was telling her 'I can be a dirty bugger, love' in his own charming way, and then turning it on its head by making it a rather beautiful moment of honesty.  His walls really were down.  He was trying to share the hidden parts of himself with her, the real man behind the mask... Sam sort of thought of it as the erotic equivalent of him in an interview when he simply doesn't know where to start because he has so much to say so he just gets manic.  It made her smile.  It also made her wonder what he'd be like in the morning, after this wild roller coaster of sensory overload had wound down. 

This time when he kissed her, it was different.  Not playful.  Aggressive.  Purposefully demanding.  He held himself above her.  His knees were between her legs.  His hands were braced on either side of her head and every time he leaned into kiss her, Sam could feel the weight of his penis brushing against her belly.  Russell could feel her begin to open to him, to rise under him even as her legs fell open in an invitation as old as time.  He hid a smile against her neck.  He'd been waiting a long time for this. 

Her hair smelled faintly of champagne.  He put his lips to her ear.  "S'my turn now.  You remember what I told you in the shower?"  She nodded.  Like she'd ever forget his voice growling in her ear that he was going to do to her what she'd done to him backstage?  He nudged a finger between the pink wet whorls of her cunt and rubbed the mouth of her vagina with the rough pad of his thumb.  A slow lazy circle that sparked along her every jangling nerve.

For one insane moment, Sam wondered if her body was going to hum like a wine glass.  It felt like it.  His thumb circled again crudely, stretching the delicate tissue and making it impossible for Sam's focus to be anywhere else except on that burning ache. 

"Right here, Sammy...."  He sucked at her earlobe and inserted his thumb inside her.  "I'm gonna put my tongue right here."  His eyes held hers as he pushed the digit as deep as it would go, until the fleshy part of his thumb was stretching her wide, until she could feel his middle finger press, and then rub deliberately, against her anus.  An echo of the erotic caress she'd given him earlier.

Sam made some half coherent noise; a mewl as his words made her body clench tightly with desire.  He must have felt it around his thumb and her legs instinctively tried to press together but his knees kept her thighs spread wide.  It seemed to happen in slow motion.  She felt his teeth on her jaw.  A suckle on thick nipple.  A deeper, almost painful bite on her hip. 

Something she didn't understand flared to life inside her.  Something wild.  Her hand slipped to his nape, holding his mouth against her skin.  She wanted to feel him bite her again.  She wanted him to devour her. 

"More..."

He bit her again, this time not releasing her until she bucked under him and hissed.  When he lifted his mouth, her skin was already pink around the red wheal left by his teeth.  Somewhere in darkest primal part of his mind was the desire to bite her again until he saw blood; some animalistic desire to mark his mate.  He acknowledged it, but let it pass.  He didn't want to hurt her, although he intended to leave his mark, not upon her body but upon her soul where it would last far longer.

Using every bit of what he'd gleaned watching her pleasure herself, he turned it back on her tenfold.  He knew where to lick and suck and he was ruthlessly driven in the application of his newly found knowledge, using it to tailor his considerable skill for maximum effect.  He left his thumb inside her, licking the tightly stretched tissue around it until he knew she was on the edge, until he was certain she was ready.  She clutched at him and cried out when he withdrew it.  His mouth watered.   

For one selfish moment, he stared at the erotically graphic sight before him.  Her skin was blood tinged and engorged, held open crudely by his fingers.  She was a deeper pink inside.  It made him think of a flower, bruised and open; wet with his saliva and her own intoxicating honey.  He was panting.  The heavy chuffs of air made him aware his mouth and chin were equally wet.  Every time he breathed out it felt cool... and every time he breathed in, the earthy scent of her creamy desire left him lightheaded.

"Russ... please... please...."  Sam's head thrashed.  Her fingers twisted in the sheets and in his hair.  He waited until her hips rose, desperate for the feel of his mouth before he finally lowered his head and gave her his most intimate kiss. 

"Mmmm...."  His husky hum only made it more intense.  And then he opened his mouth and Sam thought she would die.  She could feel his breath and the pressure of his top lip were it was resting against the stiff fleshy bump of her clitoris.  His mouth opened wider and Sam felt his tongue press into her and then curl upwards to flicker over her g-spot.  The world shattered in a blaze of throbbing red. 

Russell knew he was smiling like the biggest bastard alive, but fuck it-- he was on top of the world and getting higher all the time.  Swollen with pride and desire, he barely let Sam come back to herself before he brought her off again.  He was in the zone.  He knew from experience (born of a bottle of tequila and an informative conversation shared with a butch lesbian old enough to be his grandmother) that he could continue to give her these full body orgasms almost indefinitely. 

It had taken a bit of practice to learn the technique and it didn't work with every woman... but Russell had never been gladder for his experience than he was in that moment.  He wasn't without his own insecurities, although they manifested themselves much differently than Jimmy's ever had.  Jimmy had put his off on Sam, whereas Russell simply wanted to be the best she ever had, to wipe away every memory of every other man but him. 

It was an arrogant thought, considering he didn't want that for himself.  He'd always treasure the memories of his other deep loves.  He was an enigma like that.... and yet on the other hand, he wanted her to look at him as THE man.  He needed it.  He had to be best. 

"Oh god..."  Sam's body shuddered as she floated back to earth a second time.

Russell looked up from between her legs, eyes sparkling and chin glistening.  "My tongue's tired."  Sam smiled weakly, still dazed and glassy-eyed.  "Good job my fingers aren't."

Before Sam could even register what he was doing, he'd slipped two fingers inside and curled them up against that spot that made the world melt.

She keened.  

"That's it... let it happen, love."  

"Russ... please... I want you... inside me."  She begged.  She reached for him.  She panted and thrashed.  "Fuck me...."  He just shook his head.

"Nope... one more time..."  Russell knew it was almost not right to force an orgasm on her, although that didn't stop him from doing it.  Sam's brain seemed to short out, she flailed and shook, unaware it was even possible for a man to know more about a woman's body than she did herself, much less be able to play it like an instrument that only answered to him.  She writhed to get away... or maybe it was to get closer.  She wasn't sure.  He held her down and kissed her hard as the world dissolved for the third time into a swirl of pulsing crimson and a gush of wild honey that Russell smeared over his cock in anticipation of what was to come. 

Sam lay there afterwards, boneless.  Weak.  Her hands were shaking as she reached for him and she couldn't quite catch her breath.  He didn't pause at her opening.  His need to join their bodies was too great.  He pushed inside her with a slow but steady inward force, aware he could feel the little fluttering aftershocks from the last powerful release he'd just given her.  Her soft gasp at his size and the burning stretch she felt slowed his descent but didn't stop it. 

"I'm sorry... I have to...."  Russell shivered, and for the first time Sam realized he was trembling too.  He dropped his head.

"You're not hurting me," she whispered into his ear.  He felt her hands on him, urging him deeper still.  She seemed so very small under him, stretched obscenely on his girth.  The sight of it made him uncomfortable.  It excited him too.

They both sighed when he was all the way inside.  He kissed her and when he lifted his head, his eyes were wet and shining.  "Sammy...."  His voice closed off and he swallowed hard.

"For all my days too, Crowe."  He nodded and gave her a tight smile, still very much on the edge of the same powerful emotion stirring in her, and then he began to move.

He stretched her, feeling every hidden part of her with his big cock; long slow thrusts.  Agonizing withdrawals and languorous descents that left them both sweaty and panting.  Russell kept up a steady rhythm that sped up slowly but surely until he could feel the sting of her nails drag down his back and grip hard into the flexing muscles of his ass.  Every now and then he'd lose control and give her a hard driving thrust... sometimes just one... sometimes two or three, ramming into her with a thudding force that drove the air from her lungs and made her cry his name. 

He kissed her when she came, swallowing her soft whimpering cry.  And then she held him, looking up into his flushed sweaty face as he strained towards his own pleasure, grunting with every thrust.  Her hands were on his sides, encouraging his powerful movements; gripping him hard with her creamy walls, moaning softly with each thrust, wanting to inspire his orgasm as he'd inspired so many of hers.

"Jesus!"  He shivered, his face felt hot.  Prickly.  Blood pounded loudly in his ears.  He was so close....   Irrationally, he fought it, trying to make it last as long as he could, to stretch it out until his body burned in agony.

"Come on... come in me..."  She rolled her hips and he gasped.  "I want it inside me... I want you inside me.... always... come...."

A rough cry burned in his throat.  He juddered hard and jerked against her tiny frame, helpless as his body took over.  A violent thrust.  A soft grunt.  Panting as he held himself still and throbbed stream after stream of warm pearly ejaculate into her body.  It felt like joy.  And power.  And surrender. 

They both felt the slippery warmth and Sam was surprised when Russell started thrusting again.  He moved slowly at first, still too sensitive to move how he really wanted and then as the sensation passed, with a shuddering sigh he thrust hard; harder than he had before.  He was simply too big to move so powerfully until after he'd come and had started to deflate a little and the real truth was, he liked how it felt.  Decadent, like the spray of champagne.  Primal.  Smearing both their bodies with his essence. 

His strokes grew slower, more gentle until he was too soft to continue and he slipped out with a satisfied sigh.  Both of them were wet with his come and the earthy fecund scent was strong in air as he rolled away and pulled her into his arms.  It was a long time before either of them spoke.       

Some time later, lying back on the pillow, Russell blew out a stream of smoke, sighed and suddenly said "I knew this girl once who used to call me Melbourne."  He took another drag.  "Four seasons in one day, you know?  And it would always end in rain." 

Story of his life?  It had been until now.  Russell hoped with the whole of his battered old heart that this time would be different.  He was different with her.  More.... himself-- although that sounded ludicrous even in his own head.  Perhaps more aptly he was more that young man with a chipped front tooth who'd brashly busked in the Cross and less the international A-list megastar who gave the bean counters wet dreams and famous directors heartburn.          

Even though Sam was used to that sort of melancholy turn of phrase he had, it still tugged at her heartstrings.  She loved his innate gentleness that was so at odds with much of him, but was still a part of him all the same.  And she loved the way he was with her, especially in their private intimate moments.  He was unbelievably good in bed, but Sam suspected that had more to do with the fact that he genuinely loved to be around women, not because he was some kind of super stud.  She imagined his prowess to be more of a mixture of experience and his own instinctive sensuality; like the way he'd almost wallowed in the aftermath of his orgasm, in the proof of his virility and the way her femininity had wrung it from him.

The thing that made it so exciting and appealing was that underlying it all was one simple fact.  He was intensely masculine.  Even when he was tender with her, it was in a very masculine way.  He was quite unapologetic, and at times crude and unsmooth.  He was a man who could be as sensitive as he could be dirty.  He was everything she loved about men.  And everything that drove her completely around the twist.             

Sam had never much believed in the idea of soulmates.  She didn't think Russell was her matching bookend, the missing piece of her, her other half.  It was something much more basic than that.  It was quite simply, really.  He was the spark.  He brought the light to her life, rough edges and all, that warmed the dark spaces inside of her.  He made her see things in a different way, in a new light.

Crushing out the cigarette in an empty glass beside the bed, Russell stood and stretched, sighing with physical pleasure-- and because he liked Sam's eyes on him.  He wasn't ready to sleep just yet.  His body was exhausted but his mind was whirling.  With a bit of a shy grin, he dragged one of the stuffed oversized chairs in front of the picture window, pulling the plush heavy comforter from the bed to make a cozy nest before inviting Sam into his arms.  It wasn't quite his favorite red chair back on the Farm, but it would do until he could get her back to Oz.

Cocooned together in the covers, warm and satiated, they watched the moon move across the sky.  That was different too.  He missed the familiar constellations of home and as he felt Sam's chest softly rise and fall against his, he dreamed of another chair and another sky and another night when the time would be right for him to share all that dwelt in his heart.

Sam knew they needed to talk.  Russell was right, it wasn't the end of the road, it was just the beginning.  She had questions.  After what he'd said tonight at the concert, she thought he probably would too, but when she opened her mouth he put a finger on her lips.

"Shh... too much talking."  For once, he had all the time in the world.  "Time to say nothing."     

They kissed softly in the moonlight, two new lovers who hadn't yet untangled their hearts from the wild joining they'd just shared-- and from the one they knew they'd be sharing again soon.  They were too charged with emotion and the heady erotic newness of each other to do little more than bask in the peace they'd found together.  There was time enough for talking tomorrow.  Now was the time for love and for desire to lead unrestrained.    

Sam wondered if a heart could burst of love.  Maybe hers already had?  She knew she'd never be the same again.  His spark had changed her forever.  Russell wondered if Sam had any idea that she was the calm eye in the crazy storm that was his life.  He'd touched love too many times to ever be so arrogant as to imagine there was only one special person out there that he was meant to be with for eternity.  Just as he knew sometimes love wasn't enough.... or it wasn't the right kind of love, or even if it was, sometimes it came along at the wrong time.

But every now and again... like tonight..... it came along just as two lonely people were sailing under the same lucky star.  And sometimes, all it takes to see it is just one small shift in perspective.