The Book of David Ch. 12

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New beginnings with loved ones from my past
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Part 12 of the 14 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 12/12/2007
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***

-- CHAPTER 12: Leave the Moment --

***

KAUAI (May 2005)

Love.

New love.

Deliriously happy, I-could-fly-to-the-moon love. I'd forgotten what it could feel like. Neither of us said anything funny. And yet, every time I looked over at Claudine, my heart burst and I started laughing like an idiot. There was simply no way you could take the smile off my face.

And from the way Claudine would look at me and laugh right along with me, I knew she was feeling the same way. Hand in hand, we practically skipped down the road to my condo.

I had no idea what time it was. Despite the watch on my wrist, I didn't care. The sun was down and the moon was up, and there were barely any people around. But my universe had shrunk down until it was just me and her.

We were floating so high that we barely felt the sand caking our skin or wedged into the cracks of our bodies. A cool wind breeze with the salt spritz of the sea blew across us and tangled our hair. And yet all I could feel was the warmth of her hand in mine. I didn't even notice the touch of my feet on the ground.

I was flying.

As we approached the condo, all I could think about was getting Claudine into a proper bed and then making love to her until the sun came up. I didn't care if Brianna was there. If she was, then better she know now that I had found true love.

As luck would have it, Brianna was not home. Claudine and I had the place to ourselves. We got inside and once the door was closed, my arms immediately went around her body as she pulled my head down to meet hers in a wet, sloppy kiss.

My first instinct was to propel us to the bedroom, but once I started moving us in that direction, Claudine giggled and pulled away. "David! David!" she laughed while playfully fending off my attempts to continue sucking face. She held up the strands of her coppery hair, now slightly matted with a thousand grains of sand stuck to her otherwise silky locks. "We are a frightful mess!"

My eyes went wide open with a new, dirty thought. "Good idea," I said, and then physically lifted her into my arms and carried her to the bathroom.

Claudine giggled all the way until I managed to nudge the light with my elbow and set her down on the floor. Her arms went straight up and she gave me a wide smile as I reached to the hem of her dress and lifted it completely off her body.

I was in a big hurry to see her naked in proper lighting, but I couldn't resist leaning forward and kissing her, already addicted to her taste. Never breaking our liplock, she blindly fumbled at my shirt buttons while I found the clasp of her bra. Once we were both topless, I dropped down and took her panties with me, once again my eyes wide at the sight of her hairless nether lips with pretty pink flesh peering out from beneath the folds.

I could have stayed and admired Claudine's perfect pussy for hours, but her hands were urgently tugging at my head and shoulders. I got up and shucked my shorts while she frantically kissed me again.

Only once that momentary lust had been sated did we pause to breathe, and then I leaned into the shower to start fiddling with the controls. I kept testing the water with my hand, waiting for the right temperature while Claudine pawed at my body like an addict who couldn't get enough of me. She was kissing my chest and my arms and squeezing every bit of naked flesh she could get her hands on.

Meanwhile, I admired the sex kitten grinding herself against me. Even tangled and sandy, her coppery hair had a fine sheen that reflected the bathroom lights, but even that illumination couldn't rival her baby blue eyes. Her skin was the kind of pale cream that somehow only redheads ever have, with the light dusting of freckles that made her simultaneously cuter and more alluring at the same time.

Claudine's body was sculpted perfection. I'd forgotten how tight the body of a teenager could be, without any hints of flab, sag, or excess fat. And as she rubbed her young, firm, round tits into me, I just had to reach down and cup her equally firm ass and press her tightly to my body.

The water heated up while I was still roaming her supple flesh. Claudine was so wrapped up in her exploration of my body that she didn't even realize what I was doing until I'd picked her up again and carried us into the corner shower, a square enclosure with two glass walls and a flat, tiled floor.

Claudine got to feel the warm water for just a few seconds before I planted her back against the cold tile of the far wall. She shrieked in surprise before my mouth covered hers and then all her attention was on my lips instead of the cold. Then with one hand flatly against the middle of her chest , I indicated that she stay standing there while I got the shampoo and began working up a thick lather.

"You are a frightfully beautiful mess," I told her, echoing her earlier complaint. And then her face took on a look of utter satisfaction as I stepped forward and began to work the shampoo in to her hair, massaging her scalp with firm fingers all the while.

With the shower spray pouring down on our bodies, I stepped forward and continued kissing her, getting myself nice and intoxicated on her taste while my hands continued to run through her hair and her arms clutched me behind my shoulders.

She obediently stayed in place when I got the body soap. And with a saucy grin she shook her tits at me as I approached. I took the hint and immediately went to work ensuring her breasts were squeaky clean and then some, Claudine rolling her eyes and smirking when I gave her nipples the taste test for cleanliness.

I cleaned up the rest of her body, and Claudine wasn't smirking when I gave her clit the taste test. She was too busy screaming her orgasm while my tongue ran back and forth between her asshole and her heavily lubricated slit.

She took charge after that. At her direction and still kneeling before her, I handed Claudine the shampoo and then went back to eating her out. I kept things simple so as not to overly distract her, but I still heard Claudine's soft sighs of pleasure while she worked the shampoo into my scalp.

She was done with my hair before I brought her to her second climax. After that little shriek was done echoing off the shower walls, she stood me up and went to work soaping my body.

Five minutes later, I was a little disappointed that her taste test on my cock didn't last longer. But I shouldn't have felt too let down. Not when Claudine reached a hand between her legs and spread her pussy lips for me.

Claudine started giggling again as I hoisted her into my arms and she wrapped her legs around my waist. And then her lower lip trembled as she felt the shivering cold of the tile against her back once again, a sharp counterpoint to the thick feeling of my cock penetrating her slippery wet pussy.

"Oh, David..." she whimpered as I began pumping into her. For a second, my mind flashed back to a half-remembered image of her in the ocean. Just like then, her hair was a dark auburn and slicked back behind her ears, clinging to her neck. Claudine's blue eyes were sharply locked onto me with an intensity I couldn't fathom at the time, but now saw as uniquely undivided attention, as if I was the only other person in her world.

But this time, when Claudine's mouth opened to scream, it was a howl of pleasure ripping out of her throat instead of a frantic plea for help. And this time, when her arms circled around me, it was a lover's embrace of desire instead of a desperate clinging for fear of death.

This time, my iron hard cock was intimately pressed inside her exquisitely tight love channel. And as her orgasm swept across her body sending spasms into every muscle, including the ones surrounding my shaft, I kissed her fiercely, reminding her that *I*, her strong man was here to hold her, protect her, and never again let harm come to her.

Claudine practically melted against me as she was able to surrender completely, letting go of any kind of control and yet know that she was safe. She screamed again as I began to fill her with all of my essence, spurting wave after wave into the depths of her body, joining us together as one. And as she felt it, her eyes fluttered while her head limply rolled to the side, the pleasure and the emotions simply overwhelming.

When we were both done, I found that my legs were trembling from the exertion as my weight pinned her to the wall. My chest was heaving as I gasped for air, and Claudine clutched me ever so tightly while the tears rolled down her cheeks.

I looked up into her eyes to find that she was sobbing with the same delirious happiness I had been feeling, with a smile so wide it threatened to crack her face.

It was such a perfect moment.

After the soul-baring beauty of our coupling on the beach and the open joy of this lovemaking, I couldn't imagine heaven possibly being any better than my life right now.

And when we finally dried off and made love one more time in a proper bed, I simply knew that my life would be perfect forever.

The unfortunate thing with perfection is that it never really lasts forever.

Post-coital, I was already halfway to the dreamworld when Claudine got out of bed and began to put her clothes back on. I was awake just enough to complain, "Wait, where are you going?"

She gave me a resigned look with wide puppy-dog eyes and sighed, "I must go home. My father will have waited up for me."

Then Claudine leaned over me with an angelic expression, stroking her palm against my cheek. Her big blue eyes darted back and forth, as if trying to memorize every part of my face. "I will not ever forget you," she said softly and with finality. And then Claudine kissed me for the last time.

My true love was gone.

***

Panic began to set in as I opened my mouth to breathe and instead met a wave of foul-tasting seawater. But as soon as it washed over me, my head was in the air again and I was sputtering out the water while simultaneously gasping for oxygen. At least my grip on the rock was secure.

Just twenty more feet to go. She looked so close, I half-thought I could get there in a single lunge. I coughed out a bit more water and then took a deep breath. And as soon as the next wave hit me and passed on, I pushed off the rock and swam as hard as I could against the current.

And then I was there.

"I've got you!" I gasped. Her skin was cold and clammy. She turned and faced me, looking for all the world like a drowned rat and frightened stiff. But past her pale skin, I saw for just a moment the pale blue of her eyes, wide with sheer terror. And then before I could get a better look, the next wave came and swept us off the rock.

"AAAGH!"

I screamed and then sat up straight, panting heavily, the sheets in a tangle around my waist. I coughed instinctively, trying to expel the seawater that wasn't there anymore. And as I gradually realized I was in my condo, safe on dry land, I buried my forehead against my palms and hunched over, trying to catch my breath and calm down.

I was alive. But now, instead of feeling euphoric, driven by huge amounts of adrenaline pumping through my veins, all I felt was exhausted relief. And from the way my head was throbbing, I felt like I was in the midst of the mother of all hangovers, even though I hadn't a drop of alcohol or any other narcotic in me.

Claudine!

My head suddenly picked up and I was frantically looking around. Where was she?

And then it came back to me. Oh, yeah, she'd gone home to her family, lest they worry about her even more. And then bits and pieces of the previous evening came back to me as well. This too was like a hangover. My memory was spotty, and my head was still throbbing.

But as I sat there, staring off into nothingness, it was coming back to me.

I remembered making love on the beach. I remembered making love in the shower. I remembered making love in the bed. How I came that many times I'll never know.

I remembered her leaving.

I remembered the ache in my heart at our parting, and then that thought stopped my recollection in its tracks.

To my utter and complete horror, I realized that while I remembered it, I couldn't feel it. It was as if there was a thick, syrupy mass clogging the inner workings of my emotions. I had a picture of her kissing me goodbye, but I couldn't taste her lips.

I concentrated harder, trying to squeeze out the sensations. I remembered the feel of her naked body beneath me as we pumped in the slow union of love, but to my horror, I couldn't exactly recall her face.

I remembered THAT I was feeling in love. But now, those warm fuzzies in my stomach were gone, and I couldn't remember WHAT it felt like to be in love.

My true love was gone.

Was it ever real?

It had been an intense day. I'd gone from the emotional pain of my fight with Brianna to the harrowing fright of jumping into the untamable sea. And after such stark darkness, I'd needed to feel something good, something positive.

Was my delirious euphoria of falling in love with Claudine real love? Or was it just the emotional high after surviving what could be termed a near-death experience?

And if it was real, why couldn't I remember exactly what her face looked like? If I was really in love, why didn't I feel that strong desire to be with her right now?

My forehead wrinkled as my brain finally caught up to me, some eight hours late. My shoulders sagged then, and I felt like I had aged another five years overnight. I wasn't in love.

Last night, Claudine and I had shared a moment, several moments in fact. They were beautiful moments, borne out of the need to reach some catharsis after a uniquely personal and frightening experience that no one else could understand.

Brianna was nowhere around for me to share with. Claudine's family could feel relief at knowing she was safe and still never truly comprehend what kind of fear was in her mind out in the open water.

We were the only ones who knew what it really felt like to be out there. And last night, we had come together to purge our tensions and our emotions over the experience in a whirlwind of passion. It was a truly beautiful moment for us.

And the moment was now over.

A lyric came to mind just then:

... Any moment, big or small / Is a moment, after all. ... Seize the moment, skies may fall / Any moment. ... Days are made of moments / All are worth exploring. ... Many kinds of moments / None is worth ignoring. ... All we have are moments / Memories for storing.

Our lives were these moments. But the song ended with:

... Leave the moment, just be glad / For the moment, that we had.

There was no way Claudine and I could ever work out. Putting the age aside, she was going home to France. I wasn't about to pick up my life and move there, and I couldn't expect her to leave her family for me. Maybe if her school life brought her back to the States, we could see.

But even then, I wasn't in love with her, and I was pretty sure she wasn't in love with me. She was grateful for my rescue. And she had passionately made love with me, probably out of her need to feel something 'good' after the ordeal she'd been through. But that's not the same thing as love.

It was telling that when Claudine had left me last night, we had made no further plans to meet. In my happy delirium last night I may have dreamed of happily ever after, but they were just dreams; not real.

I was Claudine's miracle. Perhaps it was best that we leave it at that, nothing more. For her, being with the real me could only diminish the picture of a guardian angel she now had in her head.

And after all, if I couldn't even follow Amber to Stanford and make that work out, what chance did I really have with a teen from France I'd known less than a day?

It hurt. It hurt like hell. And every other second I wanted to convince myself to just say 'the fuck with it' and TRY, no matter what my rational mind said. And yet, I knew we were not meant to be.

So closing my eyes and letting out a long, long sigh. I lay back in the bed and willed myself to let go.

Leave the moment.

***

I stood over my suitcase, zipping it completely closed. With my lips tight in a flat line, I nodded. That was everything.

Everything of mine, at least.

I looked around the room. Brianna's suitcase was open and a few outfits were still hanging in the closet. Her toiletries were also spread across the bathroom counter and one of her bikinis was still hanging on a towel rod. I hadn't seen her since before sunset yesterday and as far as I could tell, she'd never come home.

My first instinct once I'd finally emerged from my self-imposed meditation on all things Claudine-related was to panic. What if Brianna were injured, kidnapped, or even dead?

Could I really be so sure our relationship was over that I wouldn't care? I had to call her, make sure she was alright...

And then I found the note: "David. We need some time apart. I'll be home by 11 AM. We'll have plenty of time to talk before the flight."

If only she knew how much I had to confess. I wondered if I knew how much she had to confess. What had she had done and where had she been overnight? Had she gone for an introspective walk and slept beneath the stars? Had she gone to a dance club, picked up a guy, and gone home with him?

Did she rescue a drowning, handsome young man, meet his family, then succumb to an emotional whirlwind of love and lust and then just as rapidly come crashing back to reality?

Between the hangover state I still felt and my recent mental exertions, my brain was already hurting and I was in no condition to go nuts speculating on what Brianna had been doing. So in an effort to be productive, I started packing.

It was our last day on the island and we were supposed to be out by 12 noon. I finished up with my clothes and also our communal gear: guidebooks, hiking sticks, snorkel equipment, and the like. Now, with fifteen minutes to go before Brianna deadline to return, I was starting to go stir crazy.

What if she didn't come back on time? What if she WAS injured, kidnapped, or dead? As my mind started racing, I decided to just keep packing. Anything to keep my mind occupied.

Brianna's toothbrush, deodorant, etc. went into her toiletries bag. Her dirty clothes and the bikini on the towel rod went into a laundry bag. I pulled the outfits off the closet hangars and laid them out on the bed. And of the clean clothes she had left, I started folding them up.

So casually, I folded up her lacey underwear, the same way I'd been doing for months as we'd been doing our laundry together. The mere sight of them simultaneously brought out memories of our wild lovemaking and the quieter domestic moments.

I'd been so content, even if not deliriously happy. I wanted to love her... but it just wasn't there. And unfortunately, love is not something that can be forced. Eventually, I might have married Brianna and we'd have done just fine. But I would have been "settling", and neither of us really deserved that.

I should have felt sad, knowing the end was near. But instead all I could feel was resignation. After the past 24 hours, my emotions were just completely and utterly drained. There was just nothing left.

And so I was in that state when a key went into the door at 10:57 and Brianna walked in. I was sitting on the bed, in the middle of folding her skirt when I looked up at her with a vacant expression, neither happy nor sad to see her.

For her part, Brianna took one look at me and started crying. Her emerald eyes were a dull green and her makeup was rather smeared. Her dirty blonde hair was oily and matted and she had quite the pitiful look on her face. The airy summer dress she wore was wrinkled and a little dirty. It was clear that she hadn't taken a shower yet; and she probably hadn't slept very well, either.