Quatern Stories

How remarkable to be loved by a man whose hands bring comfort, whose whispered words soothe me to sleep. For years, he dwelled solely in dream. Now, he is a steadfast presence. How remarkable to be loved, when I thought I'd remain alone. No longer do I live half-seen. In his embrace, I take shelter. Beneath his fingers, I'm reborn. How remarkable to be loved in such a sacred, flawless way. We move with worshipful rhythm....

All day I wait to hear your moan. Though winter's sun can't warm my skin, memories of your murmured words make me burn with shame and yearning. Morning drags its feet toward noon. All day I wait to hear your moan. While you and I, with limbs entwined will late tonight give voice to lust I now, in silence, seek mercy from the clock's recalcitrant hands. All day I wait to hear your moan; arousal, a steadfast presence. Far t...