His Mistress and I

Her voice blows across the winds throughout the seasons, whispering his name, drawing him closer to herself as the heat of the hot dry summer settles in for its time. She is his mistress, the memories of her pervasive allure from one summer to the next quietly captivating him during our time together, he and I.

Summer dawning, I have no option but to allow him to embrace his love for her one more time, all of her seductions simmering beneath the surface during the seasons that are ours alone.

His desire to feel her breath touch his skin as they embrace one another throughout warm summer evenings and early dawns is a temptation he is incapable of resisting. Giving of herself to him what no wife could ever give to her husband, not even from the depth of soul tied love or heated passion that holds destiny’s lovers as husband and wife entwined.

I met her on occasion as a friendship grew and love emerged between myself and the man who would claim to be mine.

Just as with him, she cast her spell upon me with her immense beauty, yielding me to her quiet though enthralling presence. Her will seeking my surrender to all the seductive charms she had wielded to lure him to herself before me.

Her beauty so captivating, the summer sun illuminating her glamorous appeal in a way that held my attentions so much more overtly than a mere glance in her direction. Her spirit was wild and free, a spirit to match a will that could never be tamed.

Yet, even in her most tempest moments one could only stand in awe of the beauty that somehow shone far greater from within her darkest rage.

I came to call her friend the moment I first met her, instantly binding me to her, causing me to desire her companionship just as he had done. Longing for the presence of her allure just one more time to the next. My desire to meet with her each time matching his, heightening my anticipation of her warm embrace, yearning for the welcoming touch of her kiss upon my cheek.

From early dawn the three of us walked together each day. My hand in his, playfully teasing one another, the faintest touch of fingers gliding, skin upon skin. Flirtatious glances and contented laughter leading to moments of restrained, yet warming affections.

She strolled close by our side, unveiling secluded places that she meant just for us alone, him and I. Together, the three of us, exploring all that the dry summer winds blew our way during each day we chose to immerse ourselves in her company.

As the sun gave way to the evenings I sat with him, the presence of her company quietly with us, her dominance of beauty fading into the shadows of the evening as day became night.

He and I whispering all that new found lovers whisper to one another, lingering gazes and passions heated from the slightest touch of one another, fanning the flames of romantic tryst that cooled to slow burning embers.

At times my affections would be taken from him as her shimmering evening wear drew my attention to her alluring presence once again.

So often she would sweep me up in an embrace to dance closely with her. Succumbing to all that she would offer of herself to me, surrender my only option of each moment that slowly passed between her and I.

Her captivating spirit overwhelming in a way that could not be denied. Her touch against my skin in the cooler moments of the evening something I came to crave when our time had come to part from her.

All the while he watched on, taking pleasure in the seductive romance between his mistress and I.

Friendship grown into soul tied lovers, he and I, we took our vows becoming husband and wife. His tie now to me, not the seduction of any other, or so I believed.

Summer drawing near from that time, the winds blowing as her whispers called for him to reunite with her once again. The veil of her spell upon me slowly became more frail and sheer, having made my vow of bonded oneness and claimed him as mine.

As each season that was to be theirs approached I began to sense the seduction of her whispers calling out his name upon the winds, and I longed for her to invoke her spell upon me once again.

I longed to embrace all that we had once shared together, he, his mistress and I. My heart it ached, that I might embrace the desire to be close to her once again. To feel the yearning for her breath upon my skin just as I did before.

The undeniable pleasure that he took from the passion he shared with her was all I desired to take hold of, to firmly grasp with the longing he could not deny. All the while I cherished the memories each of us had once shared, the three of us as one.

Yet, as much as I longed for her to cast her spell of seduction over me one more time, I came to know that my romance with her would never be again.

No longer would her captivating spell take hold, no longer could she evoke a veil of seduction upon me as she had before, for our time had come and gone.

The time for his mistress and I had faded, the romance between us coming to a conclusive end.

Never would there be another time that I would feel the warmth of her embrace or admire the radiance of her beauty as I once did. Her beauty and awe becoming a distant memory, only bringing with it the anguish of an unrequited desire that gave way to a longing of a different kind.

Still, throughout the years she calls to him, drawing him from my arms to feel the pleasure that she is well aware only she can give to him.

Knowing the sound of her whispers upon the winds of the seasons I begin to let go of what holds he and I bound as each summer approaches.

I feel him crave her touch. I sense his longing to smell the scent that is her presence in a way that allows him to breathe in all that she is and the pleasure he derives from his time alone with only her.

I know I must yield to his desire to feel her embrace, seeking the pleasure only she can give. I surrender to the acceptance that through the pain of our short lived separation she will strengthen him in ways I could never comprehend, much less contend with.

Though, within the knowing of all that she offers him. Of all that I will be rewarded for having found a willingness to surrender him to her. I long for the touch of his body as I wake from each night of sleep that his mistress holds him close with her.

I crave for the simplicity of feeling his fingers running playfully through mine as we spend time together during the day. Aching for his lips to press against mine during stolen moments throughout the waking hours of our mundane life. To savour each of the gentle kisses he caresses my neck with in way that leaves no words left to speak.

In the still of the evening I desire nothing more than to feel the strength of his body holding me close as we talk until we fall asleep, his comforting strong arms surrounding me with his calming spirit. Reassurance in soul tied love as each night fades.

Yet to his mistress I must set him free!

She is his mistress, the one who creates the winds that whisper his name. The mistress who woos the carnal nature of ever man, tempting each one to conquer her, each in his own way.

She is his mistress, the land he longs for from a primal spirit within himself. The mistress who lures him with the satisfying bounty of her seas.

She is his mistress, the land of his boyhood memories, reminding him of his untamed spirit. The spirit of a man that desires the seductive whispers of mother nature carried upon the winds of the land created as her.

She is his mistress whose beauty I am captivated by through the magnificence of all she was created to be. The mistress I must allow him to passionately embrace as I remain alone and long for his return each time to the next.

She is his mistress … The beaches on which he catches fish, the bushland he rides his dirt bike through with the wind in his hair and the breath of the country air that rejuvenates his spirit before returning home.

His mistress … The Western Coastlines of South Australia!

Written & Photographed
by Rebecca Rawson
Copyright © 2010

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