The Awakening

by MaryAnn

Sharon's story - all about the truth

I remember the night, standing outside my gate, after a wonderful day with Matt. Funny, I have difficulty thinking of him as a priest. I remember laughing when I first saw him in his robes. With that smile softly playing on his lips, he gently reminded me, "but Sharon, I am a priest". I'm also remembering how that evening ended so quickly. It was like snuffing out a candle, and all was dark, and frightening. Matt had just shared with me the significance of the chaos that would reign, should the bones I discovered be those of Jesus Christ.

He said, "There are billions of people whose lives would no longer hold meaning to them". He was not only speaking of himself, but all believers that if Christ had not risen from the dead, there would be no sense of purpose, no hope of redemption all would be lost.

I, being the clinically minded archeologist, quickly stated "but Matt, the truth will set you free...didn't you say that to me Matt?" Then, sensing my own fears and uncertainties, I could no longer look into those eyes. I didn't want to see his pain, his conflict; so I quickly retired to my rooms. The truth…will it set me free?

The next day, I found Matt in the tomb, clutching on to his rosary, as if his very life depended upon it. I learned Father Lavel had thrown himself from the top of his building, ending his despair. Matt was devastated as he felt it was his fault, almost as if his very hand had pushed Father Lavel to his fate. I had never seen such suffering in a man before. Matt not only was doubting his priesthood, but something deeper; something I'm sure I could never understand. I responded in the only way I knew how - how any woman would respond. I drew Matt to myself, offered consolation, and took him to my rooms. I put him to bed, and left him in the hopes that sleep would visit his troubled heart, and that perhaps peace; a peace I knew I could not give to him.

After several hours of interrupted sleep, I escaped the nightmares of my own tormented thoughts, and left my bed. Matt was asleep; he looked so beautiful lying there. I was mesmerized by his soft gentle breathing, the color of his skin, and the eyelashes that lay like silken threads across his cheeks. His mouth was ever so slightly opened, and I moved closer to take in the fragrance of his breath. I lay down beside him, almost as if I were in a trance. I ever so gently stroked his raven hair, the soft curls caressing my fingers, and lay his head upon my breast. As I stared before me, I entered a world I had never known. We slept a sleep that only the privileged and children know.

***

As I'm awakened by dawn's soft light peeking through the darkness of night, my eyes open. I see Matt's rosary. My mind is still full of sleep and I cannot understand why his rosary is laying next to the picture of my children. As I close my eyes to ponder this, I realize, with a start, I'm not alone. Recollection dawns on me, just as the new day is dawning outside. I'm not alone. Matt is lying next to me. I now can feel the warmth of his body, and I begin to remember the events of yesterday. As a gentle breeze played with the curtains, I felt it move over my body. As I reached for the covers, I realized Matt was entwined in them, as often you'll find a young boy sleeping. I dared to look at him, and as the wild surf comes crashing down on the ocean's floor, all of the emotions I tried to bury came crashing into me.

"Matt, I whispered, will the truth set me free?" Dare I reach out in uncertainty and speak my truth?

***

Lying next to you is like a piece of heaven. I softly kiss your forehead and you stir. My lips move to your eyes that are still heavy with sleep. I can feel the softness of your lashes. My breath is growing faster. I move down your nose, your cheeks, and your chin, to that wonderful place around your ears. I imagine you feel my closeness, feel my breath. You stir again as you embrace my softness, as you pull myself to you for the warmth of my body, and I fully awake.

You are so still, and warm, and smell so innocent, as when one embraces a sleeping baby. My body begins to tremble as my hands move over your shoulders, down to your waist; without thinking, my mouth follows. The covers have long been forgotten. I discover that beautiful place where the soft hairs on your body forms a small midline right over your belly button, leading me to that spot that makes me a woman. I kiss the fine hair and move my tongue down it. Your breathing becomes heavier now, but you have not moved. I only feel the pressure of your strength in your arms as they draw me closer to you.

Your breathing is a bit faster. I just lie there in your arms, smelling the scent of you. As my head is resting on your breast, I hear your heart stirring a little faster. My fingers trace the silhouette of your arms, and as I touch your skin, it jumps a little at my touch. My fingers move over your shoulders and feel the smoothness and the strength that lies within them. You bring me to yourself a little closer, yet you stir not, fully awakened. I'm thinking, if I slip out of bed now, he will not know for certain if he is dreaming or not. I'll prepare breakfast, and the aroma of the coffee will awaken him; and I won't have to speak my truth.

As I slip out of your arms, I gaze at him one more time. But my eyes refuse to leave your face. I'm seeking every inch of your skin, fingers gently moving down your arms, reaching for your hands...the hands that bear the strength of ten men, yet touch me so gently and move me to places I have never before imagined. I entwine my fingers around you and feel the pressure of your hand embrace mine. I know now, my love has awakened.

Your hand moves to my head, embracing it with your strength and tenderness. Your fingers touch my hair and you caress it as if it were the down of an angel's wings. I feel so precious. My face turns to yours, with eyes searching yours, but they are not open. There is a tranquility to your face that speaks of great joy and peace. Your eyes open, yet you see not as sleep has just left you; then, you see me. Recognition begins slowly as you look into my eyes, and ever so slowly, warmth from a thousand embers fill those glorious eyes as you gaze at me. A smile gently plays on your lips, warmth emanates from your manhood. You move towards me, your mouth searching for mine. I feel your breath upon me, just a moment before you kiss me.

Your mouth is warm, sleep filled, as is still the rest of you. Your tongue slowly begins to search for mine; they meet, a quickening of breath, a realization of one another; an invitation to move, to open, yet further. I am beginning to melt into you as you claim my person. I'm falling. Will you catch me, Matt? Will you seek more of me as I tumble from this existence into you?

Your body is growing warmer with every movement of my tongue. You're seeking me desperately and I'm lost, lost into your search. I wonder what you will find, what will be left of me after tasting your kisses. But I cannot stop. I can no more hold back from your search than could I command the sun not to rise. Yes, that's it, your kiss is like the sunrise, offering all the joys, the warmth, the promise, and the pleasures of a new beginning. And I joyfully embrace you!

The blood is rushing to my brain, the sound of it pulsating in my ears. All sounds of the world dissipate and I can only hear your breathing, stronger now yet still steady. You've yet to touch me. My lips are full as they are surrounded by yours, becoming more swollen with every taste of you. I cannot get enough of their tenderness; yes, you remain tender, yet knowing, that I am your prisoner. You hold me as such for an endless time, not hurrying what stirs in you.

Then your hand touches my breast. I am full and warm and soft. Your thumb slowly moves over my nipple, traces its softness, and then circles it till the hardness of my passion thrusts outward. You lower your head as your mouth urgently finds my breast. You feed and suckle my breast with your mouth, and nourish yourself from its juices. You gasp, a sigh is released from my mouth and I'm held in great wonder at the warmth of your mouth, your tongue, and your hand feeding yourself at my breasts; and yet, the rest of you is still, so still. You stay upon my breast for what seems an eternity. And now, your search for me begins. You've not yet released yourself to my world. It was as if you were on the threshold of another world, and hesitant to enter.

My hand moves once again to that place where the soft hairs on your stomach branch out into a fine line. I love that spot, promising unknown pleasures of what is just beyond my reach. No one has ever made me feel the urgings that are stirring in me. Why is my hand trembling so? Could you possibly want me to go on? Have the gods played their greatest trick on me after all - for me to seek you and find you at last, only to laugh back at me? I cannot surrender!! I must not!! The longing is growing so deeply in my womb, crying out for expression. The fear of rejection is still lingering, laughing at me. How can I give myself to you when I know after the longing and passion has been spent, you might move away?

NO! I must risk it. The silent cry within me must be heard. The fear of never loving you is greater than the fear of losing. I must love you!

You are waiting for me, waiting for me to give up the struggle. In your awareness of yourself as a man, you are knowing of me as a woman, and you wait. My hand reaches for you; oh, what wondrous sensations I'm experiencing as my hand touches your straining member. You are as silk to my touch, smooth as the finest woven material. I encircle your manhood with both hands, as my eyes cannot help but to look at you. You are splendorous!! I'm hesitant to move my hands over you, around you, but I cannot stop. A small groan escapes your body, as your skin glows with a sheen, and a fine mist begins to cover you as dew. You are so hard, but move not yet. Matt, you are so beautiful!

I am lost. I've entered your world, and have abandoned myself to you. Without being aware of myself, I find my lips lowering themselves upon your mystery. I take you into my mouth, as a babe seeks pleasure at his mother's breast. Are the cries I'm hearing of your pleasure, or my surrender? I eat at your feast with great hunger, yet my hunger goes unsatisfied. My hunger is only beginning.

I trace your thighs, your legs. I roll you over and taste your hips, your buttocks, your balls, your shoulders, and your spine. My tongue traces the scars on your back. You feverishly roll over and the glory of your manhood is apparent and can wait no longer. I lower myself onto a woman's need, and take you in with all the tenderness and passion that moves within me. Your eyes seek mine; they meet, and now you have entered into my world.

All else is forgotten, as we embrace, stroke, sigh, scream; we are lost in our world. You are taking me to the threshold of heaven, where not even in dreams, have I dared to go. We laugh as innocent children at play, we roll around one another in a circle of intimate friendship; we embrace as if we could never let go. We spend ourselves on the other, only to begin again, searching this mystery of life.

As sleep and peace surround us, a beautiful smile plays on your lips. I watch you as you rest, and I thank you and my God for touching my very soul with your love. I slowly discover I am no longer the woman I was. I am different. I have changed. I no longer recognize the world I live in, the world that will never be the same. For now I carry a part of you with me. You have known me as no other man has, and I lie there peacefully, next to you, knowing I am now a woman. You have spoken not a word to me that I understood. Your Spanish utterings and groans became the language of love. As I rest in your arms, it's as if I'm floating on angel's wings, taking me higher and higher. If I never hear you speak your love, I know, I know.

***

My eyes fall back to the picture of my children, their smiles offering hope to this world, this troubled world that cannot stop hating long enough to put down their weapons. I think of a quote from Scripture. "The swords will be turned into plowshares, and the lions will lie down with the lambs". My gaze falls to Matt's rosary...and to his god on the cross. The bones I discovered are not those of Jesus and Matt's faith is restored once again. His love for his god is everything to him, and his happiness is all I desire.

Time stands still. I hear your voice, deep and husky with spent passion, and filled with love. You speak to me from a far away place. "Sharon, the truth has set us free. I have been loved, by one who has taught me to love. I will carry you always in my heart and my prayers."

"I am lost," you say.

"No, my love, you are not lost...you are found".