One Night

I opened the door, turned on the living room light, and led Ann to the sofa, inviting her to sit down. I turned and turned on the stereo, putting in a Bandari CD of "The Misty Forest," which I really liked. I opened the refrigerator door, took out a can of beer, opened it, and handed it to her.

I went to the bathroom to tidy up and filled the bathtub with warm water. "Bathing together," the phrase quickly flashed through my mind. Back in the living room, she had finished the beer, playing with the empty can while looking at the book "Pursuit" scattered on the sofa.

"Go take a bath and relax," I said.

"Okay," she said, taking the bathrobe I handed her and going straight to the bathroom.

I went back to the pantry, took a bottle of Bordeaux 1861, two wine glasses, and placed them on the serving cart. I also took a bag of olives and pushed the cart to the corner of the bedroom.

When I came out of the bedroom, Ann was already walking out of the bathroom with damp hair.

"This bathrobe is too big; it feels weird wearing it," she complained.

“Then change. Your pajamas are by the bed.” I lit a cigarette and walked into the bathroom.

Ann was thoughtful; the water in the bathtub had already been changed, and the temperature was just right. I lay in the water, looking at my change of clothes neatly arranged on the hanger, and all the toiletries neatly placed within my reach. It felt really good to have a woman by my side.

I dried myself off, put on my pajamas, and turned off the lights on my way to the bedroom. I grabbed a box of ice cubes from the refrigerator; I might need them later.

I opened the bedroom door, and Ann was sitting on the edge of the bed, still reading the book "Pursuit." I walked to the corner and pushed the trolley to the bedside.

Savoring the rich aroma of Bordeaux, and looking at Ann's flushed cheeks, I felt a wave of dizziness. I wondered what she was thinking.

I put down my wine glass, went around behind Ann, and slowly knelt on the bed, pressing close to her. My hands caressed her shoulders, and I breathed softly into her ear. She didn't resist, but her face flushed even more. I kissed her earlobe, feeling her rising body temperature. She placed her wine glass on the trolley, slowly turned her head, and I pressed my lips to hers, kissing her forehead, her eyes, her lips. Our tongues met, and like an electric shock, she trembled slowly.

I laid her across the bed and untied the belt of her nightgown. Radiant.

Steep peaks and deep valleys, all laid bare. I bent down, sucked on a slender grape, and gently licked it, inhaling her unique fragrance, a fragrance that could make one lose oneself. My hands moved downwards, across the plains, reaching the meadow, my hands weaving through the grass. That fluffy feeling gave me a sense of warmth, as if a voice from afar was calling me, making me linger.

I held the tempting grape in my mouth, my left hand fumbling for an ice cube on the food cart. Then, I rose slightly, holding the ice cube in my teeth, and buried myself in the towering mountains, slowly sliding along the mountain path towards that sacred forbidden land… The ice melted, leaving a trail of water like a mountain spring. Perhaps stimulated by the ice, she trembled even more violently; perhaps it was the temptation itself.

I buried myself in the fragrant grass, feeling the pleasant scent. I opened my mouth, taking in that dense spring, gently stroking the round red bean with my teeth, feeling its swelling, its hardness.

Trembling, Ann trembled incessantly. I entered, and in that moment, we became one.

In this late autumn night, I saw flashes of lightning in her black eyes, and heard her soft moans.

I felt that each withdrawal was death, each entry was rebirth.

Her trembling, Ann, the beauty that emanated from the depths of her body completely captivated me.

Gazing at her face, I felt dizzy in the textured light, the metallic sheen reflecting off her skin, carrying her body heat—cool yet hot, intensely hot enough to burn. Watching her unfold layer by layer, until her stamen, that dreamlike pink bloom, so full, so abundant, so unconcealed, so utterly unrevealed.

"There is a beauty that needs no passion; there is a joy that needs no shyness; there is a conquest that needs no words."

And I, I succumbed, succumbed, to this beauty, this joy, this conquest…

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One Night

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