Good Vibrations Magazine

Under the red moon, lovers collide…

*

The full moon glints off the water and silvers the wet sand. Normally, the night beach would be quiet, but tonight it’s crowded with people waiting to watch a total lunar eclipse.

It seems like a time for hushed expectancy, not a sound except the gentle surf. Instead, it’s a party. Children shriek and dart at the water’s edge. People are setting up late-night picnics. One group has laid out a deluxe spread—Brie, sushi, champagne, fresh raspberries.

“Some folks really know how to live,” I whisper.

You squeeze my hand. “So do we.”

We have our own picnic in the small cooler you carry—lobster rolls and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc—but I suspect you mean the wild time we had this afternoon in the whirlpool tub in our hotel room.

You set the cooler down, pull me close. After the hot-tub adventure, I thought I was sated, but I was wrong. A diffused lust, suited to surreptitious caresses and the moonlight.

We shut out the night’s human sounds, focusing on each other and on the music of the waves. Then a child darts too close, brushing me as he passes, and that moment is lost.

We walk perhaps a mile before we reached an area not yet colonized by families. We’ve been stopping frequently to kiss and touch, your hands taking advantage of the shimmering light to brush my nipples, mine using the shadows to stray to your crotch. I have a good idea why you want a spot that isn’t in the center of the action. When you urge me to take off my panties, I bite my lip and clench in anticipation.

Still, as I wriggle them out from under my long skirt, I make a token protest, “Hey, I want to see the eclipse.”

“Don’t worry. You will. In style.”

I know I’m not going to protest further. My panties, when I get them off, are damp.

We sit down on our blanket, leaning back against the cooler. You wriggle me into your lap, facing forward, and under the cover of my skirt you pull down your shorts. A quick twist of my hips, a hand motion concealed by folds of gauze, and I sink onto your cock, reveling in the sudden stretched fullness.

Even when we’re riding each other hard, this position draws things out. Trying to keep everything discreet will make it a protracted tease. The earth’s shadow is starting its slow dance with the moon. Tonight we’re taking it as slowly as they are.

I rock my pelvis slightly, making small circles around you. You sigh in my ear, and grip me harder. At first, I want to move up and down on you until we both collapse in boneless pleasure. But then the slow rhythm of the rocking takes me to its own place.

Pleasure without peaking.

It’s oceanic, not like crashing waves but like the swells we can see in the distance when we take our eyes off the moon. I could go into a trance like this, work the magic that enables us to walk the moon’s path across the water and reach another realm.

The water begins to darken from silver to pewter as the shadow advances. Now about a quarter of the moon’s bright face is obscured. I turn to kiss you. Despite the awkward twisted position, we fall into the kiss.

“How long do you think we can keep this up?” I say when we pause for breath.

“Let’s find out.” You’re speaking through clenched teeth. “I want to hold out until the moon’s gone red.”

I vaguely remember the moon doesn’t turn redden until about an hour after the first shadows are visible across its face. I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been joined, but we’ve got a while to go.

The beach isn’t as bright as it was. Under that cover, your hands slip under my shirt to cup my breasts. You don’t touch my nipples, just stroke the warm valley beneath the breasts, enough to tantalize me without pushing me too far.

Once you run your fingers between them. Fire flares in my pussy. I tighten, flutter my pelvis up and down.

“You’re thinking of my cock moving between your breasts, aren’t you?” you whisper, lifting your hips to push into me. “Well, don’t. Not yet.” You punctuate each of the last four words with a thrust that leaves me throbbing, close to orgasm but not there.

A smoky veil advances across the moon. Beneath that veil, she is starting to blush.

On the verge of frenzy, I gesture toward that mere hint of rosy glow.

“Please,” I beg. “Please.”

“Not yet.”

“I don’t know how you’re staying so calm,” I manage to say.

“I’m not sure myself.”

We fall silent again and almost still, watching the changing face of the moon. The shadows move faster now. Soon, all but one sliver in the upper quadrant is obscured. I mean to say something poetic, but you move inside me at the same time. The thought flees as I start to shudder.

It’s not exactly an orgasm, but it’s ecstasy in its own right. First my belly muscles quiver, tiny, rapid contractions that spread throughout my torso. I feel my breasts shake against your hands. Then my legs begin to tremble in the same way.

The quivering in my belly moves deeper, from the muscles of my abdomen to my cunt. Release and yet not. The pleasure takes me to a higher plane of want even as it gives some relief to the building pressure.

“Wow,” you breathe. “What was that?”

“I’m not sure,” I say when I can talk again, “but I liked it.” I relax against you, looking at the disappearing moon.

“It felt like you’d turned into a vibrator.”

“It felt like that to me too. Look—the moon’s gone.”

“She’ll be back.”

And sure enough, from beneath the cover of shadow, the moon slowly begins to re-emerge. It is not so much that she is pushing the shadows away as glowing through them.

“Soon,” you say. “Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

Can we stand it that long? I swivel around again, kiss you deeply. As we drink each other, your nails drive into my skin, as if that little bit of force helps you to keep control.

When we break apart, gasping, the moon is a quarter exposed and red as sin.

“Move,” you say, the edge of tension in your voice a reminder to me that this must have been even more of an exercise in control for you than it was for me.

I begin to rise and fall on your cock.

I’m taken with an urge to lean forward so I’m on my hands and knees, to drive back onto you. I’m about to do it when I remember that we’re still in public. Granted, the people around us are more interested in the moon than in their neighbors, but I have to maintain some level of decorum.

Thank goodness for full skirts and strong thighs. I squeeze and release as I move, bigger circles now that let me push my clit against your balls. You grip my hips and guide me. Underneath the cover of my skirt, you are thrusting up into me.

I want to make crazy animal noises, claw at you, pound the sand. I want to change our position so you’re over me, driving into my cunt with all your force, or I’m facing you, riding you to glory. But that’s too obvious. All I can do is grind against you.

It feels as if I’ve lived forever riding your cock, as if my whole life has passed just on the verge of orgasm, in some place where everything is molten red and there’s nothing but your body and mine, the moon and a soft shushing sound that may be the waves or my own blood in my ears. And I think I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life this way.

The blood-red moon shrugs off most of her veil of shadows.

As everyone’s attention turns to the heavens, you drop your hand between my legs, caressing my clit through my skirt.

“Now!”

Never mind what I was just thinking. I need to come.

The direct contact sears straight through me and I begin to convulse. If I could, I’d howl. Instead, all the energy I’d normally put into screaming goes into milking your cock with my contractions until you bite down on my shoulder to stifle your own cry.

As I return to myself, I feel my face is damp. I don’t remember weeping.

We shift positions so I am seated innocently between your legs. Wrapping arms and legs around me, you hold me even closer than you did while you were inside me. We watch the sky for another hour as the blushing moon and her dark lover finish their long dance.

The beach is almost clear by the time the moon is back to normal. The sky to the east is already starting to bleach toward summer’s early dawn.

“Time to go back to the hotel?”

I yawn, snuggle against you. “Let’s wait for sunrise. I’ve never seen sunrise over the ocean.”

Your smile is tired, but still lecherous. “I think by that time we can think of an appropriate way to greet it.”

We curl up in each others’ arms to nap until it’s time for nature’s next light show.