A few pages of fıction ...

 

He closed the door behind the last guest, went to the CD player to change the music and came back with two glasses of red wine.

“I’ve got to go, Paul,” said Rüya.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he declared, putting the glasses on the side table.

“I really ought to be going. Giselle and Alain expect me to dinner, and I’m already late. I hadn’t realised it’s already nine.”

He was standing right in front of her now, his gaze intently fixed on her. “Rudi gently touched her lips, cutting her words short,” he whispered, caressing her lips with the tip of his finger.

She closed her eyes.

“When she felt Rudi’s lips on hers, a wave of warmth enfolded her body.”

She opened her eyes in alarm. His eyes were threateningly close. Their lips were not touching, but she could feel his warm breath on her lips. Then she heard him whisper again, this time in her ear.

“He kissed her gently as if scared to hurt her, a soft touch that lasted only a few seconds, before he passionately took her lips between his, almost hurting her, letting all his bridled desire roll down from the peak it had reached after so many years of longing. She felt every cell in her body coming alive.”

He suddenly slid his arm under her knees and picked her up.

 “A few seconds later she felt her feet swept off the ground. She was in Rudi’s arms. Her heart fluttering, she put her arms around his neck and ...”

She hesitated for a moment and then put her arms around Paul’s neck. She could feel her heart trembling. Was this real or were they acting? Their eyes were interlocked.

“... watched it like a movie rolling before her eyes as he carried her through the door into his bedroom, gently let her down onto his bed and started to undo the buttons of her blouse without taking his eyes off hers.”

Paul gently put her down on the bed as if he were scared to spoil a dream. Without touching her, he started to undo the imaginary buttons of her imaginary blouse. Rüya could feel the warmth of his fingers approaching her breasts. She briefly closed her eyes and let her head back. His hands glided further down. Her body moved to the rhythm of a melody it had just improvised. A sweetly knotting feeling rose from her belly to her breasts. She let herself back on the bed, feeling more naked than she had ever felt before in her life. Her whole body shivered, as Paul, placing his hands on the bed on each side of her chest, leaned over her. She felt an irresistible desire to be kissed. Their bodies hardly touched each other, but Paul’s breath was caressing her neck. He was kissing her all over with his eyes.

“She heard him say, ‘I waited so long for this moment.’”

Rüya wondered if he saw the throbbing of her excited heart through her blouse.

“And they kissed again with unbridled passion.”

She lay there transfixed under the spell of his captivating eyes.

“I made up my mind when I realised that it was you I was searching for in others’ eyes, in their words, on their skin ... and that everything carried me to you.”

He suddenly rolled over onto his back and lay down next to her. This last sentence was neither in Rüya’s book nor in the script. Had they changed the script? Or did Paul just improvise it now?

“I think I’m ready for this scene,” he said, staring at the ceiling before he turned to look at her again. “Thank you, Rüya,” he whispered softly.

“You’re most welcome.”

 

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