Before there was the novel, there were the stories...

by Nan Hawthorne, who also writes under Christopher Hawthorne Moss, Books and Stories b ChristopherHawthorne Moss at

Monday, June 8, 2009

New Stories: When Shannon Met Heather - Consummation of Dreams

Continued from Morning Gift -- see below. For the sake of Blogger's adult content rules, thos story is a bit tamer than the original. Nevertheless, parental control is advised. Don't complain to Blogger.

Consummation of Dreams

Rated R.

he found him sitting on the stump he had been using for cutting the wood, the plate and cup empty on the ground at his side. He was mopping the back of his neck and looked miserable. She came to him and put her hands on his shoulders. He looked up at her and she leaned and kissed him. His entire being seemed to relax. He whispered, "Time to talk?"

She stared into his eyes. "Time for bed, " she replied.

His reaction surprised her. He looked blank for a moment, then disbelieving. Then he gave her a questioning look. "Are ye sure, ma croidhe*?"

She nodded. His face broke into a smile of such tenderness that a lump rose in her throat. He took her hands in his and rose. "Let me wash meself, darlin'," he began.

Heather's voice was sharp. "Nay, I want ye as ye are."

His stunned look shifted to something hungry. He lifted her off her feet and into his arms. She gasped at his strength and the feel of his body against hers. He carried her across the threshold, properly this time, and slammed the door shut with a kick. He carried her to the small bed and laid her on it, then started to strip what was left of his clothing.

"Shannon" Heather said softly and hesitantly.

He lay alongside her fully naked, with his taut body and rising manhood. He put his arms around her. "Aye, me darlin'?" he said into her ear.

Heather could barely breathe, no less speak, but she managed, "Shannon, I am a virgin. Please be gentle."

He smiled into her eyes, and she gazed back into their blue depths, so close to her now. "Aye, that I will, dearest one." He leaned to her and kissed her on her lips. She felt his body pressed against hers. She wrapped her own arms around his neck and breathed in the scent of stale sweat and wood smoke. It was like a drug. Her body tingled and buzzed, her head was a confusion of wordless thoughts and feelings. She felt an odd and delicious warmth her belly.

Shannon pulled away just enough to start unlacing her bodice and then her skirts, lifting her gently to pull her clothes away from her body. She lay only in her shift and he gave her a look asking for consent. She gulped and nodded, and he carefully lifted it off over her head. They now lay skin to skin, and Heather thought she might pass out.

Shannon kissed her and his hands began to explore. He took long hungry looks at her body, gently stroked the length of her torso, and then reached up to do the same to the well of her neck. He smiled sweetly whenever a new touch brought forth a sigh or a gasp from her.

When he encountered the reistance of her maidenhead, he watched her face to be sure he was not hurting her.

"I suppose ye have had many virgins before me," she said, fearfully.

A look of impatience crossed his face. "Heather, do not speak of this now. Not now."

It did hurt but the hurt was quickly replaced with a sensation she could never have imagined and could never describe. The closest thing she could come up with was the feeling of very cold water coursing down her throat when she was parched and dry from hard work. A jolt of pure pleasure filled her womb. She thought nothing could feel so completing. Sparks went off in her head.

He made love to her slowly, intensely. Sh respponded, martching her movements to his. At one point she stole a glance into his eyes. Whereas he had earlier watched her own face for sign of discomfort or pain, as she responded to his movements, he had closed his eyes and seemed a million leagues away. Then she saw him dreamily look back into her own eyes and all she could see was love and desire. That look dissolved her completely, melting away any reserve, any resistance. She gave over herself entirely to her senses, to him. The two of them became one united electric body.

After, they lay gasping on the narrow bed, he lying where he had fallen beside her. He opened his eyes and looked at her with something like disbelieving gratitude. She smiled sleepily.

She thought to herself, "So that is what this is all about." And she dozed. Shannon watched her sleep and hummed a quiet melody of love.

* Note: ma croidhe, Irish Gaelic, mah cree, my heart.

Tomorrow, Heather's Story.

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About the author

Nan Hawthorne now writes under the name Christopher Hawthorne Moss. You can contact Christopher at .