The Indian Serenade

He switched the CD to one of Dean Martin love ballads and returned to bed. He kissed her as if it was for the first time. He squeezed her breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers. She pulled him on top of her so his cock would be pressed against her sexual flesh while they kissed and touched. As an unspoken cue passed between them, he began entering her. He made love to her with great care, his lips only leaving hers when the ecstasy of their orgasms rendered them incapable of continuing their embrace. Then, he kissed the top of her head and pulled her close to him. She cuddled against his chest in a now familiar position.

"I'm gonna miss this place, you know," she said as she absentmindedly played with the hair on chest.

"We'll always have a piece of it with us," he replied. Alex got up and went into the dressing room and brought out an additional painting. It was a portrait of Shawnee from a much more intimate angle as she'd sat on the bench by the creek. The frame was made from wood from the cabin.

"Oh, Alex, that's so beautiful! How did you do that?"

"I just 'borrowed' some of the wood from the cabin that wasn't rotten and took it to a craft shop so they could make the frame. This is for us, Shawnee ... for our bedroom."

"Oh, Alex, it's perfect," she said as tears welled up in her eyes. "Thank you."

He then reached into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket and pulled out a jewelry box. He opened it and showed her an elegant white gold necklace that held two entwined hearts as a pendant. He put it around her neck and smiled when he saw how it looked on her.

"This isn't a formal proposal. That will come later when we're out of school. This is a symbol of us and a promise I make now to you that I will love you and no other for all time."

She clutched him and sobbed into his chest until she could regain some composure. She managed to choke out, "And, I you."

He wiped away her tears and said:

I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright.
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Has led me -who knows how?
To thy chamber-window, Sweet!

"You're overwhelming me," she said.

"No. I'm just cherishing you, Shawnee, the way you deserve to be cherished."

"Every time I think I love you as much as any human's ever loved another, you do something like this and make me love you even more." She kissed him gently. "Thank you for this perfect night and for the perfect treasure you are to me. That poem is beautiful. What is it?"

"It's The Indian Serenade, written by Shelley. I love the poem, and I thought it was appropriate for my Indian bride-to-be."

She teared up again and said, "I don't know which is wetter, my eyes or my pussy." Alex broke out laughing at the remark. They lay back on the mattress in each other's arms. "I'll never be able to tell any of my female friends about the things you do for me, you know."

"Why not?"

"Because they'll all be so jealous they'll either have heart attacks or they'll try to steal you away from me."

"Steal me away, huh? So, what do these friends of yours look like?" he teased.

"Don't even think about it. Besides, where else are you going to find a pussy like this?"

He laughed out loud and replied, "Touché!"

She cuddled against him and said, "When I was a little girl, alone under the covers at night, I'd sometimes fantasize about my knight in shining armor and wonder what he'd be like. I never imagined that it would be a tall blonde artist with piercing blue eyes who would sweep in to carry me away. What did you dream about?"

He held her close, kissed the top of her head and answered, "I dreamed of you, my love. I dreamed of you."