Stairwell lovers
They were alone. Finally. The rest of the world did not exist. Just this fierce kiss. And the stairwell.
He was tempted and pushed open the door.
He had pushed hoping as one who would pull a lottery ticket dreaming to win a million but knowing that it was an insane expectation… She was playing the game with him. Teasing, provoking, finding joy in it. The game they played as adolescents, yet feeling themselves very mature to stop at any moment without crossing the line. The line of reason.
That big, massive wooden door was there to separate strangers on the streets from the stairwells that lead to many intimate worlds locked behind other smaller doors. The door succumbed, though with hesitation, and moved a little, testing the couple’s spirit of adventure. For a while she was not smiling nor breathing. He looked dazzled and smiled at her invitingly, then pushed the door slowly and took her hand to follow him. She was a reasonable woman and she knew that she would not accept any indecency and he would never insist on anything that she would be uncomfortable with. She smiled back playfully and carefully put her foot inside, checking if they were still unnoticed and if it were safe.
The street was locked behind, they were alone. Finally!
They ran excitedly looking for a corner to hide from younger dwellers possibly returning home in that far-past-midnight hour. There was a court with rows of dark windows looking at them from all around. She shivered from the cold of the unwelcoming wind and nestled up to him, yet she was inclined to go back. He turned around unwilling to give up and walked towards the stairwell. One floor up the wooden steps and the wind was restrained, unable to reach them. Half a floor more… and they were warm and cosy, in each others arms. Their lips met with such an eagerness. They were alone. Their kisses intensified. It was inexhaustible, unbounded. Their coats opened, their bodies touched, their hands, set free, desperately sought out the warmth of each other’s skin, exploring the softness, finding shapes. It was overwhelming. The desire was overwhelming. With every second this never-ending kiss grew feverish. The consciousness that controlled their reasonableness, that knew when to stop, was tranquillized and surrendered. Desire reigned and whispered into their ears.
They were alone. Finally. The rest of the world did not exist. Just this fierce kiss. And the stairwell.
…
Suddenly the corner of her eye caught a shadow moving fast, approaching. Startled, she removed her hands from him and looked around trying to focus and see past the carved wooden railing. She saw no one. Was it a ghost?.. Her brain was still soothed by the waves of pleasure she’d slipped into, unable to return. She stayed stupefied. He began pulling on her lowered panties, then her trousers, trying to cope with the zipper. Her consciousness was now awakening slowly, reluctantly. She put her face onto his shoulder, inhaling him while returning back to mindfulness.
They went down the wooden stairwell holding hands, navigated the cobbles leading to that massive door, and left it behind. They were reasonable. Again. Again on the endless streets of that old marvellous city. They kissed tenderly, looking into each others eyes, smiled with a smile filled with harmony and serenity savored by oceans after storms. It felt divine …and surreal. It was time to go back to their real lives. As always, in opposite directions.
