Hall of the Mountain King, ch 2

They walked hand-in-hand along the beach. Michele glanced at the man at her side. He was tall, with silver hair and handsome features, and wore a white turtle neck sweater under a blue blazer. Banacek. He glanced at her and smiled his suave smile, and she smiled back.

The moon was full, and its light cast a silver gleam over the rocky beach, and the waves rolling in, pounding on the rocks on shore. Far ahead of them was a lighthouse on a rocky promontory, and every thirty seconds or so its silvery white beam would swing around and illuminate the entire landscape as bright as day.

They continued walking silently and holding hands, enjoying the roar of the ocean, the glorious power of the waves as they crashed against the rocks, the tang of the cool sea air. Far in the distance, Michele could see a galleon, with all sails set, silhouetted against the night sky, dipping into wave troughs and then rising up again.

Then they were at the foot of the cliff, atop which was the lighthouse. They began to climb an iron staircase that was set into the rock, and as they climbed the waves were coming closer and closer, spattering into foam at their feet as they rose higher and higher.

It was a long climb, but their breathing was easy as they went up step after step, side by side, until finally they reached the top of the cliff and stood looking out from that vantage point over the ocean.

Then they turned to look at the light house, which rose up over a hundred stories into the air, with that light as its centerpiece. It was painted white, with a black stripe running like a candy stripe in a circle up to its top.

They entered the lighthouse and in its center was another iron staircase, circular this time. And they began to climb that one as well, going round and round, round and round. At every second landing they stopped, leaning against each other, and gazed out a porthole into the night sky.

At last they reached the light room. Hand in hand, they went out onto the walkway, a six-foot wide parapet that surrounded the light room and allowed the lightkeeper to clean the windows from the outside. They stood there, watching the galleons sailing across the ocean, the occasional twelve-foot wing-spanned albatross soaring in air, and then they turned and looked into each other’s eyes.

They took off their clothes, and lay down on the cool stone parapet and began to make love….

Michele felt the sudden heat flooding into her loins as she woke up. She clenched the muscles in her thighs and felt the exquisite pleasure of an orgasm running through her…again…and again..and again…before it faded out, all too quickly.

Michele sighed as she lay there. Always too quick!

She had had such experiences before. When she hadn’t moved from a single spot for several hours – always when she was asleep, she would begin to have some kind of erotic dream, which would culminate with her waking up to an orgasm which she could bring to a peak of pleasure by tightening her thigh muscles. She had never been sure if the erotic dream brought on the orgasm, or the start of the physical orgasm was enough to influence her dreams…but they were always pleasurable while they were happening.

But making love to Banacek? She had the DVDs of the TV series, which she had discovered some years ago, even though it had been on TV in 1972, when she’d been just a baby. But Banacek, as played by George Peppard, had been so…so cool. So suave and sophisticated. So…uber-competent.

She hadn’t watched a Banacek episode in months, though, so, as she drifted back into a dreamless sleep, she wondered what had brought him to her mind now…