The Calling

A sharp noise awoke Francis from his uneasy slumber and he lay for a moment in a pool of sweat on the top of the bed struggling to locate the source of the noise. The dream...the death of the King, was the noise in his head he wondered as he sat rubbing his head. The noise erupted through his room once again and his eyes were drawn to the door of the hotel room. After everything that had been happening to him lately he was unsure whether to open it or not. Three knocks...but then the appreciations hadn’t knocked before had they he reasoned. He forced himself off the bed and glanced at the clock as he walked slowly across the cold hard floor of the bedroom. Five minutes past one, who the hell could be knocking on his door at this time in the morning? His thoughts drifted back to his dream for a moment, the death of the King...the battle and then there was the calling of the woman leading him to this point, but for some reason he didn’t feel his journey. His hand waivered over the metal handle for a moment before tightening around the knob, he paused before opening the door slightly and peering through the small crack between wood and frame...

“My Lord Galahad...” the voice whispered through the darkness as Sir Galahad staggered through the copse, emerging onto the beach.

The Knight gazed up and stared through blurred vision at the new voice, “Tristan” he said softly. “Is that really you?” he asked. The newcomer placed his arm around the Knight and helped him to his feet.

“Yeah...I think so” laughed Tristan. “It seems that old Merlin, brought us back from the dead for some reason”

“The King is rising...Excalibur...”

“Don’t talk” said Tristan, “Let’s just get you back into the cave” his arm snaked around his colleague and he placed his body beneath Galahad’s body allowing the Knight to rest his weight against him. “I know, bits of it anyway. The bits that Merlin has decided to tell me. I don’t think he’s telling me everything though” he admitted as they made his way back to the cavern over the beach. Their feet sank into the soft ground as they walked through the darkness and as they walked Tristan continued to talk, “The King is dead” he said whispering, “I remember that...” his eyes struggled in the dark to locate the cavern as he pulled Galahad across the beach, “we laid him to rest”

“Tis not the King...” whispered Galahad, “it is Excalibur that calls” Tristan paused briefly with this new information.

“Excalibur...then where is Arthur?”

“He is still dead” said Galahad simply, “we are resurrect for some boy...”

“Not just some boy! The King...” the voice came through the darkness, stern and harsh.

“Merlin...I did not know”

“That much is obvious my Lord” Merlin strode through the darkness toward the two Knights. “Whom did this to you?” he demanded staring at Galahad’s wounds.

“’Twas Agravain...”

“Forces are arising against us” said Merlin glancing suspiciously around, “Come...come” he beckoned them forward, “we must hurry, he is awakening”

“Merlin...wait” stammered Galahad, “Mordred lives”

Merlin paused in the mouth of the cave and looked deep into the darkness beyond, “Morgan...” he whispered, allowing a slight smile to spark over his face.

“Are you going to let me in?” asked Gwen. She was standing in the hall, still dressed in her flimsy blue shirt and grey jeans. He blinked at her through the crack in the door and frowned. “Come on” she said smiling glancing behind her, “you gonna let a girl stand here all night?” she teased and pushed the door open and forcing her way into the room. She eyed him standing in the door frame in only his boxer shorts and smiled, before turning and bouncing into the room. Francis flushed a deep crimson and his hands wandered over his groin before shutting the door quickly.

“What did you want?” he whispered as he pressed his hands against the wooden door.

She laughed and kicked off her shoes allowing them to fall in the corner of the room. She stood and walked into the bathroom, placing her small bag on the side of the sink. Francis followed her, his hands still covering the front of his body and he watched her as she stood before the enamel basin, his eyes playing over her breasts hidden beneath the flimsy blue top. She grinned at him and winked, turning to face the mirror. She bent over the sink and watched him as his eyes strayed to her tight jeans and smiled, “I’ve come to check out your plumbing” she teased smiling into the mirror as she examined her reflection.

Francis moved into the bathroom from his position in the door frame and stood behind her watching her every move. He could feel a swelling in his groin area as he stood watching her hips sway from side to side as she bent over the sink. “Come closer...” she purred, “look at this”. Francis did as he was instructed and moved close to her, peering over her shoulder and watching her fingers play around the metal taps. He watched entrapped as her finger slid into the tap nozzle and around the rim of the metal. He glanced at her reflection and met with her eyes as she smiled through the mirrored surface on the wall. He placed his hand on the lower part of her back, his fingers sliding beneath her shirt and touching her soft skin. She smiled and closed her eyes slightly at his touch and pushed her hips against his groin, allowing his growing organ to rest against her buttocks. Her fingers rested on the edge of the tap and she played with the faucet, “Hmm...” she murmured smiling “feels a bit stiff” she giggled. Francis allowed his hands to work under her top, feeling and pressing against her soft skin moving slowly over her body and massaging her back as her hips swayed playfully against his waist. Francis closed his eyes as he allowed her body to writhe against his own and his hands wandered down her body until they rested on her swaying hips. A giggle from her forced him to open his eyes and look at her reflection in the mirror. She was looking at him smiling at his pleasure and pushed hard backward against his groin, “maybe a bit of lubrication will ease things” she said playfully, one hand snaking to her bag where it disappeared inside before withdrawing a small cylindrical tube. He eyed the small bottle and took it as she passed it back to him. Francis flicked open the lid and squirted a swab of oil into his hands, the clear liquid rolling in his palms before placing it over her body, beneath her shirt. The cold of the liquid caused her to start slightly under the pressure and she grinned as his hands moved up under her shirt working the oil into her skin.

Slowly she pulled at the buttons of her shirt as his hands worked feverously beneath the soft cotton, oil staining the material as he forced his hands up her back toward her shoulders. He leant forward and brushed her ginger hair from her neck as she pulled off the shirt and he planted a long lingering kiss of the nape of her neck. She threw her head back under the hot touch of his lips and gyrated her hips toward his groin, allowing a small lingering groan to pierce her ruby red lips. As one hand moved slowly down her back, Francis moved his other to the front of her body, where his fingers played with the black cup of her bra, tracing the line of the wire before delving into the lace and cupping the soft mound of her breast. His hand made small circular movements under the material for a moment allowing the oil to cover her skin, before pulling her breast free from the cup. She gripped the edge of the sink as his fingers worked over the contours of her breast before flicking at her small nipple, erect and free from its moorings.

His other hand moved across her lower back and slipped into the top of her grey trousers, moving over the edge of her black thong. He could feel his own passion rising to almost boiling point as the movement of her body and the oil infused in a mixture of lust and sexual tension. He reached around her waist a pulled desperately with his free hand at the buttons on her jeans as his other hand played around her breast. Fingers gripped and pulled hard against little resistance as the buttons fell away from their moorings and opened easily. He reluctantly moved his hand away from her naked breast and stood upright, staring down at her loose trousers before pushing down at the material and forcing the jeans to fall to the bathroom floor and looked down lustfully at the small strip of material covering her waist. The black thong offered no resistance as his hands moved down her body a gripped at her soft tender buttock. He placed another kiss against the top of her neck as the leant forward over her body, before his fingers curled around the small bottle of oil. He squeezed hard on the bottle, watching as the contents fell over her waist and ran down her buttocks toward her legs. Then he moved close to her pressing his own body against hers and rubbed the oil across her skin, moving from her thighs and up along her spine toward her neck. She pressed her hips against his breathed softly, “now...” she whispered as her circling movements intensified there already heightened stimulus.

His hands pushed down at the oil stained shorts which covered his waist and stood with his hands resting on her waist for a moment looking at her small rounded hips pressing against his. He placed his hand against her hip and grasped at his swelling excitement with the other, moving closer so their bodied pressed against each other. “Do it” she urged grasping the edge of the sink, “do me now”. Francis closed his eyes and moaned as he thrust forward stabbing at her tenderness, an overwhelming feeling of pleasure and lust flowing through his body heightened by the noise of her as he pushed forward deep inside her.

The sounds of the bodies entwined echoed across the room as the slow passage of time marched relentlessly onward.