The Honey Harvest

The winds delivered notice to the earth, that autumn was on its way. Though the summer-long drought prevented the autumn harvest, the summer breathed its last breaths. The hot sun spread a temporal caress along the ferns—golden in depravity.

The village along the Rose Coast flourished, with clear blue waves and the high volumes of eroticism baptizing the land with its cries. Along the inlet, rose-colored rocks ornamented the natural beauty of the land, justifying its name, the Rose Coast. autumn brought the final explosion of joy, before the falling of the leaves in winter. At the start of the season, the villagers held an annual harvest. The farmers collected the final crops and the lovers caressed each other—dropping the sweetest honey to fertilize the ground.

The arrival of autumn only drove the villagers to fear—no crops for the winter—lovers experiencing the harsh void from no one to caress. Images of making love in tall grasses, with the sun at its peak haunted all in their dreams. The wealthy voyaged across the sea to fill their souls with love again. The unlucky ones were forced to lie suspended in their grief.

Lying along the inlet, amongst the glistening rose rocks, Cora longed for the sweet touch of a lover. Dipping her fingers in the healing saltwater, as she caressed herself—all she felt were the limits of her touch. Her lips craved the bittersweetness of a mouth and the suspense of being taken—her many lovers no longer desired her touch, as they were shipwrecked in grief.

Praying to the heavens for a miracle to surpass grief, a glistening, iridescent light separated two clouds. From that light, beauty beyond the earthly realm, immersed her in warmth. As the angelic beauty descended into earth, she admired every inch of his form. His skin was a luminous shade of bronze, sparkling with every speck of light. His hair long and dark, but with the most stunning green eyes. As his feet pressed against the array of rose rocks, she knew with every pulsation in her body that she wanted him.

He held in his hand a golden pitcher with elaborate carvings, which she discovered was filled with fragrant angelic oil. Pouring the oil in between her breasts, across her stomach, following the path of her pelvis to her thighs, he admired her unearthly beauty. In his eyes, she was the most celestial being he has ever seen.

The oil warmed her body more than the sun has ever done, because it absorbed deeper than her skin—into her soul.

Through the pleasure, she confronted feelings of confusion as to who this divine being was.

He studied the confusion in her face and replied almost as if she asked the question herself.

With a warm expression, he softly whispered, "You called upon me to caress your grief away."

Her full mouth swollen with desire, she no longer cared to ask questions. With all of her inhibitions washed away by the sea, she welcomed his soft hands to spread the oil across her full breasts and shapely thighs, until his eyes gleamed at the rosy seashell in between her thighs. He could smell her fragrant honey and he succumbed to her magnificence. His hands memorized every crevice, every line and every mark. His lips molded into the missing piece in between hers, forming as one, like pottery. Her cries sounded more enchanting than a choir and he was more eager to pleasure her with his holy mouth along her vulva, the more she cried out.

Drowning in the divine weight of pleasure, they came together, separating all the clouds with radiant light. In a daze propagated by the immense pleasure, Cora closed her eyes. As she opened her eyes, the most beautiful agony grew inside of her.

Her sweet angel was gone.

Convinced the experience was merely an illusion, Cora cried more than she has ever cried. She mourned the transience of such a gentle touch. Her cries did not perish, almost as if she was climaxing once again. There was praise and then there was lamentation. Releasing the pain from her being, she continued to cry. The more she cried, the darker the sky grew. Crying harder in the darkness, she felt a single drop of rain on her nude back. It was followed by a heavy downpour, which moistened the earth. The rain fell so heavy, the ocean swelled over her and she welcomed the embrace of the sea—her only primordial lover. Cora surrendered to the ocean, giving herself to its mysterious floor.

What seemed like minutes later, Cora found herself enraptured in the heavens. She was surrounded by colors of rose, gold and ivory. Fluffy clouds surrounded her as a floral perfume filled her senses. Beside her was the angel who would give her everlasting pleasure.

Everlasting honey.

The rain brought growth to the land and so the harvest began. The villagers exclaimed with love making, feasting and singing under the golden autumn sky. They worshiped Cora as the goddess of the harvest. Her passion grew the plants dampened with honey.

The eternal flow of honey from lovers, angels and flowers shield the earth from all grief.