Elena Messer balanced her body on one leg, imitating a flamingo in the act of contemplation, her arms stretched out over her head like folded wings, her hands clasped. Her body hardly moved, her bare skin taut in her pose. Balance was important to her, between body and mind, butterflies and flowers, questions and answers. She treated her life like a precision scale, balancing the fulcrum of the beam with her mind, weighing possibilities, decisions, quests against finely calibrated bronze weights. She never tired of making the minutest adjustments to anything she did, as long as she could stand on one leg and not waver from her path.
Her lover was lying naked on the floor, maintaining his own uncomplicated balance, his legs straight, his arms spread to the sides, his mind drifting. He was used to waiting, pretending, used to being the counterweight in Elena’s complex calculations. He was an integral part of her equilibrium, that aspect of her life which kept her upright when she was being a flamingo, horizontal when she was not. He was listening to the stormy night outside, the universal equilibrium, the eddying of the wind against the windowpanes. Elena was listening to herself.
She brought her other leg down, stretched, swayed lusciously back and forth, turned to her patient lover. Slowly, so as not to disturb the night, she lowered herself down on him, her full breasts against his chest, his twitching erection against her belly. She stretched her legs over his, spread her arms out over his, entwined their fingers. She stayed like that for the longest time, balancing her beam, their even breaths intermingling. The night revolved slowly in its own equilibrium, providing her with her justification.
After a while, she let go of his hands, pulled her arms in, and raised herself on her elbows until she hovered above him, the space between them charged with mutual anticipation, her arms shivering. She kept her breasts inches from his chest, her pussy above his erection, everything in perfect balance. He brought his arms in and took her breasts into his hands, weighing them with his own scale, his own desires.
She sighed when he touched her nipples, rubbed them to a delicious hardness, fondled her swaying breasts. Moaning with desire, she kept herself on her elbows, spread her legs, and lowered her pelvis until she could feel the tip of his penis against her labia. Slowly, very slowly again to relish every pleasurable moment, she impaled herself on his erection, sucked him into her cave, strained her pelvis against his. He quickly responded by thrusting against her, falling into a quickening rhythm, the storm outside their accompaniment.
Moaning and groaning with their growing arousal, they rocked each other to the apex of their desire and through the roar of their orgasms, Elena keenly aware of the beauty of their balance. Her arms gave way in the rushes of their fulfillment and she lowered herself down on him again, her breasts still cradled in his hands. They stayed like that, perfectly aligned, as they shuddered through the aftershocks of their simultaneous release, their breathing harried and deep against each other.
They fell apart after a while, stretched out beside each other, two separate entities once again, the two arms of the beam connected by their mutual satisfaction, a perfect equilibrium in their night. When they caught their breaths and their bodies began to relax, they turned on their sides and wrapped their arms around each other, feeling the tremolos of their satiated bodies against each other. Elena watched the shivering balance beam of her scale as it slowly came to rest, bringing the night to a befitting conclusion, her body and her mind fulfilled and content.
Peter Baltensperger is a Canadian writer of Swiss origin and the author of ten books of various genres. His work has appeared in print and on-line in several hundred publications.