Love Is The Only Thing

Brad was certainly not expecting visitors that cold windy evening.

“Jenny! What … ? I thought you were moving interstate.”

“I am, Brad, but even though I tried, I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Brad gazed at the love of his life. He still loved her deeply, but after that dreadful day she decided she couldn’t face him, so this visit was completely unexpected.

“Come in, Jenny, please, just for a little while.”

She followed him into the lounge, and stopped with an unreadable expression on her face. “It had to be that song, didn’t it? And it had to be Sinatra, didn’t it?” Her voice trembled as Old Blue Eyes brought the song to an end, Keep that breathless charm. Won't you please arrange it? Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight.

“I know, Jenny, but that was always our song, I still believe every word of it.”

She turned on him, disbelieving. “How can you say that, Brad? Just look at me for God’s sake. How can you possibly love someone who looks like this? I can’t even bear to look at myself in the mirror.”

Brad held her shoulders, twisting her to face him. “Jenny, how many times must I tell you, I don’t care. Yes, the fire scarred your face and your body, but it didn’t change who you are. The fire didn’t touch the real Jenny; she’s still there, even if she is doing her best to hide. Jenny, I love you so much. I’ve never stopped loving you, wanting you.”

Brad started the song again. Yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm, And your cheeks so soft, There is nothing for me but to love you, And the way you look tonight.

“Bradley Watson, you bloody fool, that is just bullshit. You’re trying to persuade yourself … “

He stopped her the best way he knew, with a kiss warm, positive and inviting a response, but none came.

“Jenny, just for once, listen to the words—I mean REALLY listen. Sinatra can say it all so much better than I can. But I still mean every one of them.”

“You can’t mean that. You can’t believe that how I look doesn’t matter.”

“Look into my soul, Jenny, and you’ll know this is the absolute truth,” With each word your tenderness grows, Tearing my fear apart And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, It touches my foolish heart. Brad’s attempt at singing was far from Sinatra, and he acknowledged, with a grin, that being called a “bloody fool” probably wasn’t a demonstration of tenderness.

He caught her out as she laughed at his attempt. “See, I knew it had to happen; that laugh did wrinkle your nose. It always has done.”

Jenny stayed silent, staring at Brad with an intensity he found slightly unnerving. “Brad,” she said in a low, tense voice, “Are you really saying you’d be prepared to take this physical wreck ‘for better or worse’?”

“I am, without question, without hesitation.”

Tears flowed down her face. “Brad,” her voice was now choked with emotion but so quiet he had to strain to hear her, “Brad, make love to me.”

He kissed her again; this time her response was feverish, urgent. Taking her hand he led her to the bedroom, kissing her again before starting to undress her.

“No, Brad, please turn the light off. I don’t want you to see …” but she got no further.

Jenny, this doesn’t matter—it just doesn’t. I love the real Jenny, the girl I’ve always loved, the girl who can reduce me to a pile of gibbering jelly, just by looking at me. And I want you so badly; every bit of you. Now we can do this the civilised way or I can rip your clothes off. Your choice.”

Jenny grinned, finishing undressing as Brad did the same. He held her trembling body close to him, soft, warm and yielding. She could feel immediately his enthusiasm, rigid and straining against her.

Brad picked her up and laid her on the bed, kissing her face, across the scars then down her arms and onto her right side where the scars were worst. He gently moved over them, laving them with his tongue, tasting the sweetness of her skin, almost in homage to the scars.

Tears again streamed down Jenny’s face as she sobbed out her love for Brad, haltingly until he kissed her again, wiping the tears away with his tongue. Brad moved down, stroking his tongue across her now rigid nipples, generating a gasp and a low groan before his hand performed the same benison to her moist, anxious pussy.

“Take me, Brad, please, darling, don’t make me wait.”

With his own desire building rapidly, Brad moved over her, positioning his aching member at her entrance. With one slow smooth thrust, he entered Jenny as she whimpered and writhed under him. They moved together, their mutual excitement rising to a climax as they clung together, moaning in lust and ecstasy.

Jenny sighed with content, laughing softly as Brad sang, I can feel a glow just thinking of you, And the way you look tonight.

(863 words)