Claudia was still now. Oppressive afternoon heat had overtaken her. Closed shutters to keep the searing sun away, wearing a skirt so that she could dress whilst waking without thought. Black boned bodice; purple flare……
She pinned up hair, her neck cooler and it would look beautifully deranged lose by evening. Almost naked under white sheets. No disturbing clock: siesta so embedded that she would wake exactly at four. Market traders shuffling in the streets below. Car horns, bicycle bells, all bellowing last urgent attempts to get home for sleep.
The last sense to leave her was smell. Strong coffee brewed for wakening. Lokuum, with its edge of hazelnut and dusted sugar, bought from Europe. Grilled pepper freshly milled into coconut milk; crushed raw onions. Claudia had scoured her hands and arms with lemons just before sleeping. To take away the smell of raw beef and peeled prawn. Because he would eat.
She woke an automaton. Pulled on bodice and dancing shoes, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders. Step, skip, make a rhythm of stilettos down three flights of stone and out into the still stifling heat. Careful over cobbles, then a dance across the dust, into the blue smoke of the club. Claudia lent across the bar. Endless rows of cocktails hung with festoons of fruit waiting for her. Drink the first, the second and almost through a third, commanding everyone who saw her. Punters’ mock amazement at her theft but none ever complained. Her body filled with warmth as the music began. Beat so beguiling that it was impossible for her to keep still. All eyes turned.
Claudia had three hours. Unbridled curls fell in abandon down her back as she sidled to the centre of the stag. They had put in a pole only a week before. Stainless steel, pristine it went from ceiling to floor, ice-blue in the low lights. Strong and steadfast for her. Claudia slithered around it, her legs entwined and wrapped around it. She could fasten herself to it and hold and balance as if it were him holding her in the air. They could almost see their prize as she stretched her legs wide and arched her back in limbo. As low as she could go she would press her naked body hard into the coldness of the metal.
Money came. They threw it; rolled it; pushed it carefully down the wire of her bodice between the softness of her breasts. Her dancing: all relationship, all expression. Freedom. Just like waking from siesta, when it was over it was over. She stopped. Refreshed herself from the bar, grabbed her shawl. Was gone.
Out into dying heat and falling light. Across cobbles and into the back of a tram. Black bodice; purple voile; dark legs, the shawl wrapped around her head as if in confession. A sense of urgency. The end of the tram line met with a cable car, caught high on steel wire, swinging in growing breezes. Open, exposed, a frail bar to hold her, she got in, artfully matching its constant movement.
She faced mountainside knowing he would follow her. The air grew colder, drying the dancer’sweat. Land fell beneath as city edges began to show. The once towering omnipresent encompassing outstretched arms of Christ grew smaller and more human as Claudia soared. At the tree-line half way point she got out.
She crept into the forest, years of leaves providing carpet beneath her feet. The scent of Mama’s furniture polish as the wind intensified. The well worn path that no-one else knew. Snapped branches. Dappled sun. Secrecy prevailed.
Claudia found the clearing. Folded her shawl, took off clothes. Dropped money. Lay on the ground, stretching her perfect body.
Waited. Always. Counted ten for Mama to return. Waited for Christmas, a happy day and good food. Waited for answered prayers. Had waited for him all her life: phone calls, promises to be fulfilled. She would wait as long as he told her to wait. That’s what he had said. Wait until the wind stops.
One leaf clung despite growing in deep shadow, the edges of it a tremor in the breeze. Perfect, unfolded and opened toward her.
She heard branches crack beneath his feet. Closed her eyes. He took her right foot. Tied it to what she could not tell. Stretched her legs apart. Tied her left foot so that she could not move. He took her arms, pulled them above her head, parted them and tied her wrists. Expertly, softly yet secure. Her back arched. She could not move. No limbo.
Her belly rushed. Her labia began to swell. Her lips pumped as she rolled a wet tongue around the surface of them as if to signal the wetness between her legs. Waves of anticipation arched her back..
She opened her eyes in instinct. No wind. And he was inside her. She was opened and his cock had pressed hard up inside her body, his movements slow and decided. In penetration he paused to press against her clitoris as if he had a woman’s body. In her passivity she felt the full length of his penis going deeper inside her. She could only lay and accept, no resistance. His rhythm grew faster. His mouth around a swollen nipple. Holding each in turn between his teeth and then began to bite her neck. Pain but he knew exactly how to control her need for him. Cool cum pumped into the heat of her vagina. Filling her and making her feel complete.
He untied first her wrists, then her ankles, wrapping his body right around her as if to shield her from the dangers of freedom. Her leaf began to tremble. His cum and the wetness of her orgasm gushing from her body.
They dressed. Sat together, faced each other in the cable car back down into the music of the night. The statue of the outstretched and forgiving Lord dominated the sky-line again. His benevolence always forgave her.
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