Of Lorenz Theory & Love

JHMD: The Banging

40: JHMD: The Banging

10:15 pm PDT/5:15 am, 8 weeks later, Post Prom, Madalena, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Azores Islands

As Harry and Macy stood on the balcony overlooking the horizon, watching the stars and a slew of what appeared to be comets, they sipped what remained in their respective wineglasses. "So Harry," Macy casually remarked. "What should I call myself now?"

Harry pondered this for a few moments. Was there a right answer? He replied, "Whatever you feel like—Dr. Macy Vaughn, Dr. Macy Greenwood, Vaughn-Greenwood, or a hybrid?"

"Definitely food for thought in the coming weeks, Mr. Greenwood," Macy responded, chuckling a bit.

After they had washed the wineglasses and shut the balcony screened door, the two proceeded to the master bedroom. A sudden thought struck Macy. "Harry," she said, "why did Maggie think our condo was a sex dungeon?"

Even in the darkness, Macy could sense Harry blushing. "Truth be told, pun intended, your sisters sat me down for a...let's just say...a sisterly chat. They asked me what my intentions were with you, and due to Mel having laced my tea with truth serum, I happened to remark that the first use of Epicenter Pico No. 23 was as our home, and our secondary use was as your sex dungeon."

I am going to kill them, Macy thought to herself. "I can't believe them! Why didn't you tell me sooner, Harry?"

"You were dealing with launching your genetics business, and I didn't want to add any additional stress. They do have your best interests in mind, and they really want what's best for you. I think I convinced them, otherwise they never would have let us orb here in peace. Besides—" Harry stepped closer to Macy in the bedroom, reaching out to pull the curtains shut, "they were right." A tiny glimmer of moonlight peeked out, nevertheless, which was just enough for nocturnal visibility.

"Right about..." Macy could feel her toes curling, just the tiniest amount.

"The sex dungeon bit."

"Oh." Macy suppressed a smile. As if to change the subject, she turned around. "Can you unzip me from my tulle gown?"

"With pleasure," Harry murmured, slowly doing so, as he kissed Macy's neck; she shivered involuntarily at his touch. While he unzipped her, she removed the ponytail holder that was keeping her hair in place, and her curls were let out.

"Much better, Ms. Vaughn," whispered Harry, breathing in the scent of her flowing locks. Macy closed her eyes, but knew she wasn't quite done yet. Turning to face Harry, she held a piece of what looked to be fabric.

"What is that, Ms. Vaughn, and what are you going to do to me?" Harry raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"Exactly what it looks like, Mr. Greenwood." Macy proceeded to unbutton Harry's shirt, then fastened the blindfold over his eyes. She then kissed her way down his chest, feeling the natural thrum of his steady heartbeat, moving downward to his belt buckle, which she unclasped, unzipping his pants and placing his now-erect shaft into her soft, inviting mouth. He gasped aloud as she continued to give him sparks of undeniable pleasure. He thrust once, then twice, grasping for her curly locks, but she slapped him away, and continued her sensuality for some seconds more.

"Why do you punish me?" Harry groaned. Macy removed herself of him, stood up, and pushed him onto the king bed that was mere inches away.

"Because you were naughty," Macy whispered, now straddling him, having flung the fabric throw pillows across the room using her telekinesis.

"Was I?" Harry murmured. "I had no idea," he said, as he reached for her arms and kissed them, before she slapped his arms away once more. "What on earth have I done, Ms. Vaughn?"

"Used the incorrect proper noun, Mr. Greenwood, I daresay," she saucily replied, bending forward to kiss his forehead, while hearing his sharp intake of breath.

"Oh, I see, Dr. Vaughn...and just what are you going to do about that?" Harry paused for a second, then whipped his blindfold off and pinned Macy to the bed, as she bit her lip suggestively. They looked at each other for what seemed like eternity, absorbing the other's visage, eyes, eyelashes, the curve of the other's nails, but was, to the outside world, only mere milliseconds, before Macy guided him into her and they began their passionate exploration of one another, punctuated by Harry's wild thrusts and Macy's vocalizations. His youthful skin intertwined with her dewy flesh, his mop of hair grew tangled in her wild curls, and Macy clawed his back in ecstasy as he dove deeper, and deeper still into her innermost core, as if to touch the physicality of her very soul's being.

He could hear echoes of Melanija Paradis' song, "Burn Into My Veins," a hauntingly sultry tune, coming from Macy's phone, a likely subconscious effect of her telekinesis...

Burn into my veins

Scratch beneath my skin,

Swallow me up whole

Rescue from the hell I'm in...

Pull me from my prison

Throw away the key,

Break me out for life,

Bring me to my knees.

Resurfacing from scorching reverie to make the barest of eye contact, he could feel himself release into her a piece of his own soul's essence, as they merged together in the symphonic pulsations of his and her heartbeats.