The Paler Shade of Autumn (8 page)

Most arousing are his breathy whispers and guttural compliments against her ear. “You are so tight… you were made for me… I want you to come so hard.”

A heat starts in the centre of her sex, swells and spreads, until her entire body grows warm and tingles so deliciously. The heat transforms into a pleasurable ache. The ache surges to every nerve-ending she possesses. Autumn gasps as the first pulse of orgasm overtakes her; with the next pulse she moans and grips tighter to his shoulders. She canters against him as the intense pleasure rolls through her like a thunderstorm tumbling through a valley.

Jet’s body tightens, his thrusts quicken. He lets out a hoarse groan and comes with deep, powerful strokes, just as Autumn’s body begins to relax, awash with post-orgasm elation.

Autumn lies on the padded cushion between Jet’s shoulder and chest, and wishes she could take him home with her. Under the lightness of her body, her throat feels tight. She is upset about her luck, or as Jet would say, her Karma, for meeting someone as incredible as him, with whom she has instantly shared an indescribable connection, at the most inopportune time and location.

Their situation is almost like a personal challenge to test if she has the ability to selflessly give up her own needs and wants for the sake of those in a less fortunate position. Though she doesn’t doubt how this will end, with her going home tomorrow, it still hurts, nonetheless.

Jet kisses her forehead. “You’re my personal Mara, the demon of my desire.”

“How have we gone from mesmerising to demon?” she says, grinning, blinking to banish the tears wanting to form.

He kisses her again, leaving his lips to linger a little longer at her forehead.

“In my current situation, those two words are interchangeable.”

“Are you saying the old fortune teller, she of mere pot-luck, was right?”

Jet doesn’t say anything immediately; instead she feels a long lungful of air escape from his chest. “I am wondering how I am going to say goodbye tomorrow.”

Autumn whispers, “Me too. I don’t want to. I want to stay with you, even if for only a day longer.”

He gently shifts her head from his shoulder and sits up in the bed, eyes wide. “You can. We can work it out.”

She shakes her head, pulling the sheets up over her bare breasts as she sits. “It’s best if I don’t.” The words feel solid and catch painfully in her throat. “More time will only make it harder.”

“What if you come back and visit me, or I can see if I can get back to Australia for a couple of weeks, or a month. We need to at least try and see if this will work between you and me.”

“Jet, when I go tomorrow, I won’t leave you my contact details and I don’t want yours. I will not be responsible for you leaving here.”

Jet sighs, but nods his head.

The glorious Indian sun brings morning too quickly to the sleeping orphanage of Bodh Gaya. Lying with Jet in the small, single bed with his arms wrapped cosily over her body, Autumn does not wish to open her eyes. So she doesn’t. Not yet, even as Jet stirs behind her.

Jet’s arousal is immediate. He presses that prompt stiffening between his thighs against the supple, round cheeks of her bottom. Autumn’s blood rushes to the areas it splendours most fabulously.

Like a languid caterpillar, she rolls on her side to face him, and when she knows her first image upon waking will be of Jet, she opens her eyelids. Jet’s eyes captivate her, as though she is seeing them anew, the colour of honey and just as sweet. Jet is like a hug after a long time apart, or a dizzying first kiss, or dirty sex after a fight. He makes her feel good and she doesn’t know how she will be able to say goodbye.

She kisses his succulent lips and body until she lies breathless, heart pounding against his broad chest, his seed wetting her thighs and during that time, prohibits any more thoughts of going home.

Jet joins her for a shower, providing a clean toothbrush, toothpaste, along with much appreciated soap. Autumn begrudgingly dresses into the clothes she wore the entire day before and checks in on David on the way back to her room, hoping he is feeling better and not having a clue what to do if he isn’t.

When she opens the door and pokes her head in, David is sound asleep. She calls his name softly and he stirs; eyes bloodshot, but his face has lost yesterday’s pallor and gained much of his original rosy colouring.

“I think I’ve stabilised,” he says, voice hoarse. “I haven’t purged since yesterday afternoon.” He slowly sits upright; places his feet on the floor. “I even think I’m able to eat something.”

Autumn was not completely aware of how worried she had been about his condition until she sighs so strongly with relief it dizzies her.

Jet pokes his head into the room. “Looking good, mate.”

David nods. “I’m not doing too bad. Thank you for everything, the electrolytes, the use of your room.”

Autumn and Jet exchange glances with each other.

“It’s not a problem. I’m only happy to help,” says Jet.

Before heading back to her room with Jet, she urges David to hurry, as much as he is capable, to shower and ready himself for the train-ride back to Patna, which is leaving in the next hour.

Jet offers to accompany them both to the station, but Autumn feels it is best if they say their goodbyes in the privacy of the orphanage. Back in the room, that constrictive feeling in her throat returns, her body feels weighted. How is it that this man creates such emotions in her after only knowing him for one day and night?

“How about you give me your phone-number so I can contact you, just to make sure you get home ok. No strings attached?” he asks, eyes pleading.

She shakes her head. “There’s no point, Jet. You live twenty-nine hours away.”

He harrumphs angrily. “Fuck!” He places his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t have met you, share the most incredible night together, have the feelings I have for you and never see you again. Don’t you want to see how this will develop between us? Don’t you think we deserve that?

She shakes her head sombrely, a slight gloss to her eyes. “You’ll soon forget about me once I’m gone.”

His eyes portray complete bemusement. “I won’t forget you. You’re not just some holiday fling, some one-night-stand. You’re worth more than that and you certainly know you mean more to me than that.”

She sighs and kisses him on his full, supple lips. “Thank you. For everything. I truly mean that.” She kisses him again. “But I better get going.”

A subtle anguish transforms Jet’s features. He steps closer and kisses her hard on the mouth, his force, urgency, taking Autumn by surprise. He pushes his hand into hers and steps her back to the door, pinning her with his body, all the while kissing her lips, biting her neck.

She directly assimilates all of his emotions, can see all of his images with total clarity—desire, lust, need and a threat-of-loss, so heavy in his heart. He pulls her shirt and bra off with barely a pause, breaking her contact with his mind. But it was enough time, their hands together, to communicate exactly how Jet feels about Autumn in this moment, about her as she is about to walk out of his life forever, after only the briefest of encounters.

Jet believes the universe is seeking justice, Karma is having Her day for his past mistakes, for having sown destructive seeds with faceless, nameless women for whom he cared little, and now the seeds have germinated and sprouted, leaving him to suffer the consequences with a woman he cares more about in a single day than any other in his life.

He fumbles with her shorts for only a second and reefs them from her hips, along with her knickers, then his own. Into his arms he lifts her, and she wraps her legs tight around his waist as he plunges into her, her back up against the wall. It doesn’t take long this time, only pure, ardent, physical gratification within the brief minutes they have left, until she slumps against him, both completely spent.

Autumn dresses, kisses Jet on the cheek one last time and walks out the door. He doesn’t follow, only watches as she gives a final smile and closes the door. She collects David from his room and they catch a rickshaw to the Gaya train station.

Seated on the train, heading back to Patna, David asks, “What’s the matter? You seem down.”

“I’m just sad that it’s our last day. I’m going to miss India.”

David places his hand on her shoulder. “India or Jet?”

A solitary tear rolls down her cheek. “Both.”

Blog – Australian Traveller

Bodh Gaya, a dusty landscape brimming with beautiful fields, relatively quiet compared to the other cities of India, yet crammed with that which counts more than people—hope. Bodh Gaya is a place of hope and hope is all anyone needs to get out of bed in the morning and get through another day in a workaday world. Hope there is a tomorrow, a bigger paycheque, a day off, a holiday, a husband or wife, a lover, a smile, luck, hope for the future, a friend—hope
.

In Bodh Gaya, I saw hope in the child beggars as they approached you for a coin, hope in the local street peddlers that a new sale will bring in a few rupees, hope in the pilgrims that they will reach spiritual enlightenment, and hope in the many Buddhist devout that today may bring nirvana
.

Under the shade of the Bodhi tree, its long curling limbs spreading out above me like loving arms, I didn’t find hope within, but without, in all who shared in the stories, in the purposes and spirituality of the tree, the location and of the man who gave it all its meaning, Siddhartha Gautama—Lord Buddha. Perhaps the affinity and union with the rest of humanity experienced is what he intended for me. Perhaps he opened my eyes to the glory of a child’s smile, the spiritual connection you can find in a lover’s embrace and the sheer joy in helping another in need
.

I came to India to find answers, but how can you find answers when you don’t even know the questions? Instead India gave me so much more than answers. It reacquainted me with hope for the future, personal strength, loss, appreciation for what I have, a desire to help, my goals and, more pertinently, India reacquainted me with me
.

Autumn Leone 22 April, 2007

Five years later – 2012

Jordy crosses his outspread legs, elevated on the kitchen chair in front of him, and lifts his arms behind his head. He thinks this
gift
of his sister’s is beneficial and he thereby takes advantage of it. Even as a small child he would urge Autumn to help him out in difficult situations—with teachers, bullies, sporting foes—where he needed the assistance of her silent insight. Now, as a young man, her support centres on one thing and one thing only—women. Apart from Jordy’s career in landscaping, his footy on the weekend and spending at least one big night-out a week with his mates, girls are his entire focus. Autumn, protective and empathetic by nature, almost never denies helping him out when he asks.

“She’s hot, Autumn,” he says, smiling cheekily.

Autumn rolls her eyes at her mother, who concurs with an impatient shake of the head.

“Aren’t they always hot, Jordy?”

“Yes. Many, many hot women in my path.”

Autumn can’t doubt it. Her brother is an attractive man, so she has been told. He’s tall and fit, thanks to his love of sport. He possesses the same palest blue eyes both he and Autumn inherited from their mother and is adept at turning on the charm, as and when required.

“So what do you want me to do this time?” Autumn asks.

“She works as a real estate secretary. All I want is for you to go there with me Saturday morning when I pay my rent and touch her.”

“And?”

“And see if she likes me?”

“Why don’t you grow some courage and ask her out. Find out the old-fashioned way. You know, how normal guys do it.”

He shifts his legs again, crossing the left now over the right. “But I’m not normal am I? I have a sister who can read people’s thoughts. Why waste my time with rejection if I don’t need to.”

“Mum, can you tell him to stop it?” she pleads. “I’m not going to the real estate to feel some random girl, who may or may not even have thoughts about Jordy.”

“That’s enough, Jordy. You are twenty-three years old, a good looking young man, ask her out yourself.”

He stands now, towering over Autumn and her mother in stature and picks a roasted potato from the pan his mother has, moments ago, pulled from the oven. He bites half off. “Why should Autumn get to keep her abilities all to herself? It’s selfish. She should share it with her wonderful, younger brother.”

Mrs Leone rolls her eyes and walks out of the kitchen, not getting into the discussion which arises time and time again, to retrieve her husband from the lounge room to join them for dinner.

With his mother out of ear shot, Jordy says to Autumn. “Do you know how hard it is to get laid? Oh, I forgot, of course you don’t, you’re so inundated with opportunities you knock them back left right and centre.”

“Oh, don’t be so obscene. Why talk like that?”

He shoves the other half of the potato into his mouth. “Because I know it pisses you off, like what you’re doing to me now.”

Autumn sighs, throws her hands into the air. “Fine. I’ll go. But she better be worth it. She better not be some fake-breasted, dumb bloody thing that you are only planning to sleep with a few times.”

He hugs his sister with his long arms, encircling her body completely. “I promise this one’s different. She does have big kahunas though, but I promise they’re real. At least I think they are.”

Autumn pushes him away. “Pick me up on Saturday. Not too early either.”

He grins and nods his head. “I really don’t know why you put so many restrictions on this ability of yours. God, what I could do with it.”

“Believe me, the novelty wears off quickly.”

He shakes his head. “Not for me. I’d be messing with people left right and centre.”

“Yeah,
you
would. But I’m not like you.”

“You should be. You might actually enjoy yourself from time to time.”

She thrusts her hands on her hips and looks square into his eyes. “I have fun.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”