Archive for September, 2005
It rained last night. Violent – it had everything – Thunder, Lightening, Hail. This morning there is a crispness in the air – the freshness that only comes after a thunderstorm. I can smell earth, water – beautifully combined.
It’s no wonder that I couldn’t sleep. It’s no wonder that I am crawling out of bed to go jogging. Fall. For however brief a time, fall has arrived.
I looked at her over the dining room table of my home, my eyes studying her from above my cup of coffee. Neither of us had anything to say. She had read my blog. She didn’t like what it contained. She hated that I even thought of screwing Lauren. And now, after exchanging that, we had run out of topics.
She rubbed her temples. I could tell she had a headache. The bags under her eyes said she hadn’t slept. I took another drink of my coffee.
‘I was fair, in what I posted.’ I said quietly, having listened to her reasons for objecting. It looked for a moment as if the weight on her had increased. I fell silent again and took another drink from my coffee. My fingers itched to light a smoke.
‘So what now?’ She ran her fingers through her hair and sat back in her chair.
I shrugged. I couldn’t make this easy for either of us.
We both stood as she finished her cup. Her hands opened and placed her keys on the table and I looked down at them. She walked to me and took my hand which rested on the frame of the chair. Her fingers played along the palm before she brought it to her cheek.
I watched her, but my instinct said to stop her. I didn’t. My thumb ran across the skin of her cheek. She released my hand and moved around me and walked into the living room – her keys still sitting on the table.
Standing there as she was, in the middle of the room, she placed her balled fists on the curve of her hips.
‘Hit me.’ She said.
‘Excuse me?’ My left brow arched as I sought to clarify what she had just said.
‘You said you wanted to hit me…so hit me.’
I smiled. ‘No.’
I moved and started walking towards the keys on the table.
‘Get it out, Daemon.’
I glanced at her as my name rolled off of her tongue. ‘No, Nika.’
‘Come on. Do it. Hit me.’ She said again. I reached for her keys and crossed the room, keeping her at arms distance.
‘No.’
I started to move and I felt the sting as her palm found my cheek. I could feel the hot burn that began in its wake. Her voice dropped to a whisper, so intimate. ‘Hit me, D.’
‘You better be going.’ I put the keys in the open pocket of her purse and indicated the door with a nod of my head.
She ignored the hint. I caught the flash of of her hand movement and caught the second blow just before it landed. The second hand moved faster and another sting fell on my cheek. When I released her I gave her a shove back.
‘Go.’
She stepped closer. My jaw tightened. She pressed her body against mine and wound her fingers into my hair. I for my part, remained unyielding. I turned my head to the right away from the whisper of her lips.
It was then I felt the bite of her incisors. When I shoved her back, she went sprawling. Her mouth had my blood on it. She had taken some of my skin that time.
‘Bitch!’ I covered my palm over the wound and walked to the bathroom. It was bleeding and a crimson stain spread across my dress shirt. And my face bore the impression of her palms.
She was still on the floor. I pointed to the door. ‘Leave, or I’ll help you leave.’
I watched as she composed herself, smoothed out her clothing and stood. She nodded and I stepped closer to help her out.
I caught her wrist again as she tried to strike me and this time I didn’t hold back.
I whipped my hand around and snapped her head to the side with the blow. She would have fallen if it weren’t for my grip on her wrist. She looked back and me slowly, her lip bloodied. Her eyes were watering.
‘I love you, D.’
I dropped her wrist. It was never easy between us.
(A Story. It doesn’t end today, at least, with any claim of love, or even the suggestion of it. It isn’t going to make you, the reader, feel better after reading it. Ugly. Yet, so painstakingly close to the truth to reveals too much of me and perhaps too much of N as well. A story, based on a discussion and event last night, while it is still fresh in my mind.
Call me sexist if you’d like, but the names I want to call her upon the end of this discussion would almost certainly be applicable to me also. I remind myself….I don’t own her. I don’t own her. I don’t own her.)
She had wanted to fight. Her words tumbled in my mind the entire day after reading her journal – the one she writes just for my eyes. It amused me, her aggression, her need to feel pain – this from the same woman who said she never wanted me to hurt her. Physical pain and emotional pain are two different beasts, I supposed, but so often they ride with each other. Two wolves.
When I saw her, there were the usual greetings – we had not seen each other in a few days, only phone calls exchanged back and forth – and waiting, a lot of waiting for my schedule to clear up. I know she hates my profession – not for what it is, but rather the volume of time it takes out of my life. We just don’t have enough time together.
It’s times like this that I crave a cigarette the most. Habit, I’m sure, but I used to spend hours talking with her, one hand occupied by a cigarette, the other between her thighs, or on her nipple. Three years since I last smoked? Maybe longer.
I reflected what she wanted from her journal. I asked her if she still felt that same restlessness. She did, but after a few moments of verbal sparring, we decided tonight wasn’t the night for those things. I was uncharacteristically lacking any desire to harm her and was content with those discussions we favored. And touching. I wanted to touch her. It was the same for her. She didn’t want to fight.
There was something in her tone. One of her answers seemed just too flippant for my liking, and just like that, the switch was on. I stirred her a little. It was an exercise of power. The barbs were carefully aimed so as not to be too much – and cause another month long departure from one another – yet still enough to make her hackles rise. She needed reminding just how well I knew her. She needed reminding of many things.
She couldn’t decide it I was playing with her, or truly was angered. It was mostly the former – mostly. I can’t remain entirely passive or distant when it comes to dealing with her, so even a discussion I was in, where I was going to piss her off, still impacts me. She didn’t strike back – I think there was a cetain amount of stunned shock.
She asked me if I was pushing her buttons on purpose.
Of course I was and responded truthfully. She digested that, and proceeded to push mine.
‘My Master.’ She said.
I laughed and pointed another direction and said that she must have me confused with the other men she was fucking. I could see the conversation disintegrating rapidly, but I was unwilling to stop.
She likes to play with my jealousy when we fight. I play with hers. Mine, however, is easier to reach.
‘Hm, now that you’ve reminded me, I think I should go warm a dick.’ She said, referring to a comment I made earlier about how her ass was being used as someone else’s dick warmer.
‘Take pictures. We can start our own scrapbook.’ I responded.
‘I already have a few.’
‘Excellent. I’d bring mine home, personally, where I could fuck them properly.’ I answered back. Home was one of those places that few people had seen. It spoke of an intimacy.
‘I met someone interesting earlier…I’ll keep you posted.’ She fired back. It was right here where I could feel aggressiveness starting to chew at me. The conversation was not improving, and my next remark didn’t help.
‘Lauren still calls me.’ I said, referring to someone that N ‘knew’ I had fucked. Someone I called ‘dark one’ as an endearment – the same name I called N back when we were in a full blown relationship. This person sets her teeth on edge.
It was a lie. I could see the blood the wound had drawn almost as if her skin had split open.
‘Nice to know you’re hiding things from me again.’
‘Please. You could write a book on hiding things.’ I answered.
I took a moment and said quietly that I had just lied about Lauren. It was a tentative truce. A call to lay down arms. We both reached for the olive branch with a certain amount of suspicion.
‘You started it.’ She accused.
‘You asked for it.’ I answered.
We spoke for a while after this – light discussion, we were both still testing the water to see if we could return to the state before this happened.
‘So fucking someone else would hurt you?’ She asked.
‘Yes, it would.’
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ She answered. ‘Besides I haven’t fucked anyone else in a while.’
My eyes darted back to her, I could feel my pupils narrow as my brows slanted down. I could smell something in her answer.
‘Define what ‘a while’ is.’ I said, I could feel my fists starting to clench. Inside my head I prayed for the answer I wanted to hear.
She shook her head. ‘You’ll get mad, D.’ She paused, ‘Please, I don’t want us to get mad at one another.’
‘What date?’ Boiling. My blood was boiling.
‘No, D.’
‘Answer the fucking question!’
She backed away from me, but didn’t answer the question. I could see my hands shaking where my fingers curled into fists. I took a deep breath.
Another breath. Another. I could feel a wave of calm. Cold, blissful calm wafting over my inflamed mind.
I spoke slowly, calmly. ‘I don’t like someone being close to you that way. I don’t even maintain any type of relationship with other women because they want it to be more.’
‘I know you don’t.’ She was quiet.
What she said then…How do you write out this emotion? Words fail me.
‘You know if you found someone else I would understand.’
I remember blinking as I tried to digest the comment.
‘You would understand?’ I repeated dumbly. ‘YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND?’
‘I didn’t say I’d like it, sheesh.’ She answered.
‘God damn you. Jesus, What the FUCK am I doing here?’ I stood up.
‘I don’t know why you’re reacting this way.’ She sounded wounded. She had the NERVE to sound wounded.
My head snapped around so hard I felt my neck crack. ‘If you found ‘someone else’ I would NOT UNDERSTAND. I would NOT ACCEPT IT.’
‘I know that.’
‘Obviously, I place more value on this than you. Obviously, hell, I’m the dumb ass, I could have seen it earlier.’
She used to shut up. She used to listen to me vent and just take the wind like a reed. Bending, bending.
Not last night. ‘Now hold up one fucking minute – I said I would understand. I would be a total hypocrite if I told you I would not accept if you found someone else.’
I laughed. ‘What a joke all this is.’
‘Forget it. You just don’t get it.’
‘Obviously there are replacements for me.’ I paced back and forth. My mind was digesting. ‘I want to smash your face in.’
‘There hasn’t been a replacement – that’s why I can’t settle.’ I recognized a certain urgency to soothe me in her voice.
‘Doesn’t stop you from sampling the herd, does it?’
‘I’m not answering that.’
“I think about you. I always think about you’ It was the truth – I kept my distance from everyone who I felt might remotely have a romantic interest. I wasn’t going to repeat the mistakes of my past.
‘If you think I don’t think about you…you’re so wrong.’
‘Thought about me when you were fucking him…when?’
‘Okay, I’ve had enough.’
‘So have I.’ I gathered my keys, picket up my jacket and left.
I was dialing the phone before I even left her driveway. It rang twice and I was about to hang up when I heard the sleepy voice on the other end of the phone answer.
‘Hello?’
Just who I wanted. ‘It’s me.’
‘Hi me.’ I could hear the tint of affection in her voice. ‘Long time no see.’
‘I want to come over.’ There was no mistaking the intent.
Did I hear her breath catch on the other end? I waited for her to tell me to fuck off. How long had it been since we last spoke? A year? No, December, January…something like that. ‘So…you and N not working out? I heard you two were back together.’
‘Do you want to fuck or not, Lauren?’
‘A booty call, D? I hoped you would buy me dinner first.’
‘Never mind.’ I answered. I didn’t want to even speak with her. Fuck. Just fuck.
‘I’ll leave the door unlocked.’
I hung up the phone just in time to hear it ring. I glanced at it. It was N. I hit the button and sent it to voicemail. I knew what I was doing was wrong, I didn’t need her apologies/accusations sounding in my head.
The drive was only 10 minutes. I almost crashed my car twice on the way over. I couldn’t even process rational thought. I had almost hit her. I could still see a picture of her with bloodied lip in my head. I wouldn’t have stopped there.
Damn her.
I opened the door and kicked it closed with my foot. I saw the bedroom door stood open across the small apartment and walked over there, stripping off clothing on the way. My shoes, my shirt all formed a trail of clothing on the way. My cell phone rang again and I tossed my undershirt on top of it. I was only wearing my pants, belt and socks when I walked into the room.
I looked at the bed. She wasn’t in it. I glanced at the bathroom door, there was light coming from under the door. It opened a moment later and she stood there, wearing just a pair of boxer shorts.
‘Subtle.’ I commented.
‘What do you care? You’re just here to fuck.’
I narrowed my eyes and walked over to her, backing her into the wall of her bedroom. I reached up and touched her hair. It had grown longer. My fingers slid over a lock – black as night. I looked at her for a moment before I leaned in a kissed her.
My hands cupped her head and pushed her back more firmly into the dry wall. I heard her head bump against it. I chewed her bottom lip for a moment, watching her face the entire time. My hands slid down and wrapped around her throat, cutting off the oxygen as I squeezed tighter. I smiled into her face as her eyes opened again.
My fingers tightened more and I lifted her just a fraction off of the floor. A little more, and then I pressed her against the wall again, her breasts were just at my chin. I leaned down and took one of her nipples into my mouth. My mouth opened up over her breast and I growled into her flesh. I felt her fingers wind into my hair and press me into her skin.
My hands cupped her bottom to keep her from sliding down. The wall helped, but she was light enough to carry as I pulled her back slightly from the wall and lifted her so her legs would wrap around my waist. My teeth grazed her and she moaned.
I bit her harder and felt her body roll against mine. I could feel the heat of her sex through the cotton of the shorts she wore. How did I not know she liked pain? We had never fucked – toyed with the idea, but never actually done the deed. This was when N was collared to someone else.
Her hands roamed over my skin. I felt her squeeze her thighs tighter around me. I looked up, above me as she was and when she leaned down, kissed her again. Her hair swept over us both. So much like N.
I could hear my phone from the other room, but I still put Lauren on the bed. I peeled away her boxers down her legs and tossed them into some dark corner. My nails raked her skin, scored her flesh as I touched every inch of her skin. My mind kept comparing her to N. She wasn’t as tall. Her eyes weren’t the same. She didn’t have an ass to speak of. The noises she made didn’t sound as erotic.
Still when I parted her thighs, she was wet. Responsive. Warm. My mouth settled on her clit, a small jewel amid butterfly petals. Her body jerked. Her hands clutched at my head. Her hips rolled upward to met me. Stillness left her body, replaced by the slow rhythm of arousal.
My fingers probed the opening of her cunt lightly just before I slid a finger into her. My cock was painfully hard. I could feel it pressing against my pants, seeking fresh air just before the plunge into slick darkness.
I twisted my finger and I heard her gasp. ‘Right there!’ I smiled. It was different for everyone – that spot. My thumb danced over the area around her swollen clit and I repeated the motion.
‘Uunngh.’ I can’t even describe the sound. I leaned in again and traced my tongue lightly over her folds. My finger was joined by a second and the same movement was repeated.
‘Holy shit!’ The same movement again and the long cry came out followed by a release of breath as her body spasmed. I could feel the warm liquid of her cunt. I lay there and watched her for a moment before I moved and sat back on my calves. My fingers hurried to unbuckle my belt. I grabbed a condom just before taking my pants and boxers off and tore open the pack with my teeth.
I felt her hands then, settle across mine.
‘Is that your phone?’ She smiled. I listened. It was ringing. I shrugged and moved my hands down to my cock, which jerked slightly at the cold contact of the latex. Her hands moved mine aside and she slid the ring down over my cock. She lay back against the bed as I moved above her, hooking one leg over my shoulder.
I teased her lightly with the head, sliding it against the over-sensitized pearl of flesh at the crown of her pussy. I pressed in slightly, and felt her shift to adjust to the penetration. I leaned in further, now looming over her, my hands on either side of her body as my cock poised to fill her.
‘Look.’ I said and she watched as I slid into her, inch after inch. I felt her cunt squeeze me and closed my eyes. I didn’t wait a moment for her to adjust, but rather started a quick pace. It was fucking, after all.
The bed squeaked with the movement and eventually, her leg slid from my shoulder so that her legs could wrap around my waist. It was hard. I know I was hard on her. I was punishing her for not being N.
Her arms were wrapped around me and I peeled them off, pressing them back against the bed. She resisted the movement. We were sliding against each other, my breath in her ear when I reached between us and lightly pinched the folds of flesh around her clit. The wet flesh made for friction and when she came the second time, I joined her.
My hips thrust as I came inside the sheathe that kept us apart. Her mouth remained in the curve of my neck as I spent myself.
When I lifted my head, she stared back at me. I moved off of her and pulled the condom off of my cock and walked to the bathroom. I tossed it in the trash and washed my hands and face.
When I looked up, I caught the red bruise at the curve of my neck.
When I walked out, she was already dressed. She had my cell phone in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.
‘It was good, but you need to go home now.’
I took my phone from her and looked at the screen. 12 missed calls. I took the cigarette from her hand and took a long drag.
‘I’m sor..’
‘Don’t. I let you come over right?’ Were her eyes glossy? She ducked her head down and when she looked at me again it was gone. I thought perhaps I had imagined it.
She tip toed up and kissed me on the cheek. ‘I’ll give you a moment to get dressed.’ She said, just before she shut the bedroom door behind her.
I took another drag on the cigarette. I noticed my clothing was neatly piled on the bed. I got dressed.
I left a few moments later, a pack of cigarettes and matches tucked on my palm. I settled in behind the wheel of my car and drove home.
What I had just done. I felt shame.
N’s car was in my driveway. She was sleeping behind the wheel. She got out of the car when I walked close and threw her arms around me. I hugged her.
A moment later she pulled back and then a second she stepped back. She could smell Lauren on me.
When her eyes went to the mark on my neck, she turned around and left.
In truth, she never answered my call last night. This morning, she returned it and we spoke for a long moment. I could hear the invitation. Sanity prevailed, but only because the phone remained unanswered. Feel free to comment. Are either of us right?
Borrowing from Pussy Talk’s blog suggestion, I offer up this piece…
There is always that one that stands out from the rest. I’ve never been one to select my peaches from the rows and rows one always finds at the grocery store. No. The best peaches to be had are purchased during long road trips that cross over the the South Carolina/Georgia border. Those farmers markets that are set up on the road side teem with possiblity.
A colorful arrangement of apples, grapes, squash and other summer fruits and vegetables spill out from simple buckets made from straw and simple woods. Calling to be taken home. I’ll purchase a few, of course, for the quality and simple act of goodness one feels by supporting something as simple and homegrown as an American farmer.
The peach. I can never wait to eat it. There is an almost eagerness to smell and taste that perfect one once it is uncovered. There isn’t any hurry, the memory will only be satisfying if I take my time. My fingers are the first to wrap around it, carressing it with an almost reverence upon finding it. The round orb, lightly dusted with fuzz, pliable, but not giving flesh, scented with the smell of sun and summertime and beautifully colored with a blush.
That is the perfect peach. I never peel mine – it would be a sacrifice to lose the first burst of flavor to my fingers, or the the floor below. The first bite, the flesh slides across my tongue caressing, teasing until my teeth sink in. A moments resistance and then the intoxicating taste and scent of perfection. My eyes will close in almost a reflex as I savor that moment – feel it etch itself into my mind.
I can feel the juice brimming on my lips just before the first juicy river trickles down over my chin.
I am slow to chew – and the juices pool as the flesh is slowly masticated between my teeth. My tongue strokes the spot left open to the warm of my breath as I seek another bite. Again, the flavor bursts upon my tongue anew.
I am intoxicated.
Around, slowly around the brown orb in the center I go. It is a unhurried process.
When the final bite is completed, my fingers cup the bare core of the peach – the seed which hopes to find itself in mother natures hands. When I was younger, I would find a place and bury it in the soil to give it some hope. Now – I am greedy. I take it back with me.
And plant it in my back yard – and hope that one day I can have that flavor closer to home.
For those that want to know, NM is safe, and back where she belongs. And Dallas didn’t get so much as a rain storm.
I’ve managed to pull a muscle in my leg and the damn thing seems to be lingering around. My calf is sore – not painful, but I feel the tightness just ready to clentch. So I am, for all intent, grounded. It is frustrating to say the least.
I feel something on the horizon. I am restless. Caged. I’d like to blame it all on the previous stress, the injury, but I can’t seem to be able to place my finger on the pulse – the heartbeat of the issue. I crave contact – sex – to almost an obsessive degree. I want to eat her whole – like an almond, if you understand the reference.
That kind of hunger. Sex. Blood. In that order?
I would say I was a vampire if I believed in those creatures. I certainly have an understanding on how someone could live on a liquid diet. I understand the craving to smell the skin, taste it, consume it. Blood. Yes, I want blood. It isn’t anger fueled for a change, no, this is the truest version of me – the one that rarely shows.
If the world faded, cast into shadow, darkness – I would be a predator. Not evil, not good, but perilously balanced on the edge of a blade.
A lover. A beast.
The one for whom only your darkest side calls out.
I fell asleep at the computer. Sitting straight up, with no back support, not even a slight slump, I was asleep.
My assistant woke me, offered me coffee, gave me motherly advise about sleeping at night and left for the evening. Had it only been 10 minutes? Its like a second wind.
When you have insomnia, sleep gets in where it fits in.
I’ve lived through every kind of weather you can imagine.
Tornados – Texas has them in spades. Virginia, also.
Hurricanes – No place better than Florida, North Carolina and Virginia – I’ve lived in all three during a major storm. (and now Texas)
Hail – Reference Texas again. Dimes, Quarters, Softballs? I’ve seen them here.
Blizzards – Try crossing Wolf Creek Pass in Colorado for a little white knuckle driving.
Earthquakes – I didn’t enjoy the big one, but the after shocks were fun in California.
Down Drafts/High Winds – Texas again, takes the cake on this one.
Lightening – Texas.
I would take it personally, but the way I figure it, God could have me shot by one of the many angry Texas drivers. I seem to only be missing drought fueled, swarming locusts from my list.
Now normally, I wouldn’t dwell on weather, but the fact is that NM is in Houston at the moment. I know she is leaving. She said as much too me when we spoke – but I still am fighting the urge to go retrieve her myself. I know she is an adult. I know she is capable and independant. I know these things, but somehow I can’t stand that I am unable to stand between her and the weather.
Meanwhile, I will pace. I will pray. I will ask for the power to stand between her and harm.
But I already know the answer.
I could smell the night air on her when I finally opened my eyes. My vision still not adjusted from waking, I only knew her shape. I pulled her down with me and held her in close, not minding the coolness that clung to her sweater, or the occasional brush of her tennis shoes. She gave that soft little noise she makes when I find a ticklish spot on her, not a giggle, or anything so insipid, but rather a throaty sound and so fucking sexy it makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
I nuzzled her neck, the growth on my cheeks would, I knew, leave that pinkened shade on her skin that I so enjoyed seeing in the morning sunshine. My hands slide under her sweater and pulled her in by her waist, fingers lightly gripping as I finally leaned in for my kiss. Her hair surrounded her head like a dark aura. I began to detect the delicate hint of soap and perfume that seemed to linger wherever she went. The kiss was light, followed by a soft Welcome Home that was too loud – piercing the gossamer web of breathing and movement. Her smile was enough to make the violation worth while.
Her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles and I found it to be especially charming as I focused on her face. Another kiss, this one lingering for a moment longer. As I pulled back, I caught her unflinching gaze and felt the tingle in my scalp as her fingers slide over my shoulders and curled into the dark strands of my hair. She pulled me down for another kiss and I went willingly, I felt the air move as she sucked in her breath just before my mouth touched hers.
My fingers slid along her sides before pulling her in closer. I was already naked, tangled in bed sheets – she, however, still remained frustratingly clothed. The contrast was part of the seduction of the moment. The kiss broke as I shoved the sweater open, those little girly buttons yielding simply to the slightest demand. I pressed my lips to the valley between the lacy cups of her bra. I felt her fingers curl into my hair and she gave a jerk on the strands. I sank my teeth into the fleshy meat of her breast on response. As her fingers eased, so too did my grip on her skin.
She whimpered, moving in that restless fashion that I recognize as her arousal, her fingers moving from my head to other tactics, teasing, caressing, cajoling. My mouth opened on her breast, my breath soothing the red, marked spot where my teeth remained imprinted. My other hand cupped her sex through her jeans, pressing in, pushing in slightly with my palm so the seam pushed against her clit. I felt her nails dig into my back, and lifted my gaze to stare up along her body to the lips which parted in breathless whispers of lust.
She looked back at me, and my breath caught. The buttons and zipper of her jeans where undone at some point soon after – who, when? I don’t know. It was almost a race to see how quickly she could be naked. I could smell her, that scent of sex she has when we are fucking, that smell that lingers on me until my next shower. That smell.
My cock was rampant, and the sheets did nothing to help ease the stiffness – brushing back and forth with our movements. When I felt her hand brush wrap around it, the sensation I felt was almost painful. She was under me, the length of our bodies tangled with one another, bare skin on bare skin – hands everywhere. She kissed me and then shoved me back against the bed. A second later, she was above me, a thigh on either side of my stomach, my cock brushing against the curve of her ass. It was delicious torment.
I placed my hands on her thighs and started to slide them up to where her sex rubbed and teased my stomach. I could feel the heat and moisture of her sex. Her hands covered mine and she shook her head.
‘No, we are having one together.’ She pushed my fingers back down her legs before she moved her hips in a seductive circle – causing the trim line of hair at her cunt to brush against me – I felt a coolness where moisture lingered on my skin.
‘Put your hands behind your head.’ I met her gaze, feeling a moment of pure rebellion at her order. ‘Please.’
Ah, she knows me. I folded my arms behind my head, curiosity taking over, my movements almost automatic just to see what the end result would be. She leaned forward and licked her tongue across my mouth and I lifted my head, my hands automatically reaching for her again. She pulled back suddenly and shook her head. I let out a groan and fell back against the pillows, my hands moving back again. So this was her game.
She was beautiful, perched above me as she was – her black hair spilling over her shoulders, her nipples drawing my eyes, jewels on her skin. She leaned forward again, her hair falling around us like a cloak, her body sliding against mine in a slithering motion. My teeth clentched. Her mouth found a nipple and her ass pressed back against my cock just before her slit rubbed against the length of my shaft.
‘Bitch.’ She gave another throaty laugh and sank her teeth into my other nipple. My hands moved again and she pulled back, shaking her head again.
My hands returned slid beneath the pillow under my head.. Jesus it was going to be a long night.
She repeated the motion and my fingers curled into that pillow to keep from reaching for her. She kissed me, and I assaulted her with my mouth, head lifting, my body twisted in an akward position to keep the contact. When we broke, I pulled back and took part of her lip with me. I watched as her tongue ran over the bloodied swell of her bottom lip.
She pressed her hands against my chest and I felt the pressure of her weight briefly as she lifted over the length of my cock, which jerked angrily as her skin lightly brushed its nerve filled tip. She wiggled between my legs and parted them further. I could do nothing but look at her as she stared back at me with the length of my cock between us, dividing my view of her face.
A moment later, her tongue raked its way up my cock. My hips gave an almost involuntary push forward upwards and I hissed out a curse. ‘I hope you are going to be done soon, cunt.’
Was the mouth that surrounded me then a reward? I didn’t care. I could hear the fabric crush in my fingers as my hands dug further into the feathered pillow. My hips rolled towards her and she pulled back again. Cool air. Her breath was blowing across the moisture on my cock. My brows knitted. Sweat broke across my brow. I called her a thousand names in my head – the whore, the Madonna, the bitch, the siren, everything, she was everything.
I seethed out her name between my teeth. She made a noise and my hands released the pillow instantly. My fingers dug into her skin as I pulled her up and rolled her under me in a smooth movement. I caught the gasp of her breath as I covered her mouth with mine – my fingers snaking urgently down her body. I felt the moisture covering her skin, sweat. My tongue laved it from the valley between her breasts a moment later.
My fingers found her sex. Ah. Fuck she was wet. Her hands pulled at my arms, her body twisted away. Why did she fight? I instantly lightened my touch, traced the seam of her sex with my thumb. I felt the tension ease out of her body, slowly…slowly as the pulse in my head slowed to a reasonable pace.
She turned back towards me and arched off of the bed as I licked and marked my way down her body. My tongue traced the outside of her belly button just before I felt her hands tug in my hair. I looked up. ‘Together.’ She paused, ‘Fuck me, D.’
My breath caught. We stared at each other and then a moment later I was over her. My fingers found her again, but only to open her just before I pushed the head of my cock into her. She made that throaty noise again. Her eyes were closed as I stared down at her, but opened a moment later when I remained unmoving. Just as they did, I surged into her, mindlessly, sweetly filling her. Her cunt squeezed me and my teeth gritted.
Oh Jesus. Her nails dug into my back and the pace began. So fucking erotic the way our bodies slide against each other, sweaty and sleek. The way her hips pushed up to met me. The bed began to make an obscene squeak as it always does when we fuck like animals. Her hands dug in deeper, I could feel the half moons forming on my back. The noises, her soft noises of pleasure, the wet sounds between her thighs all combined together.
My hands made deep impressions on the mattress as I lifted off of her body, so that only my cock touched her. The pace increased, I could feel the opening of her womb, hear the sound of our hips meeting in lewd union. If sweat covered us before, it dripped off us now. Her hands fell, and then pushed up against the headboard.
The tight squeeze of her cunt increased and the movement slowed as we both tried to keep the inevitable at bay. I should have stopped, but my hips kept moving forward, my body shook violently as I tried to control it. I stared down at her. I could feel the movements of her inner muscles. Milking. Squeezing.
Together? She was going to come before I did.
‘I could… fuck you… forever, baby.’ I started slowly, and punctuated my words with deep pushes into her. It was torture. My cock was swollen, hard almost to the point of pain. I felt my balls tighten. ‘Your tight little cunt. So damn wet.’ She made that noise again. I fucked her a little faster. It felt like I was in a vise. I began to wonder if I was to win this game.
I reached between us. I could feel where I penetrated her. I lightly traced over the skin around her swollen clit. She cried out. I pushed further into her. The reflexive contractions of her cunt began and I almost roared with success.
She cried out. I stiffened as I caught the word, but couldn’t respond as my own body erupted. I came inside her. The heat that surrounded me was almost a fire. My hips jerked forward as I emptied myself into her. Mindless. Thoughtless.
I held there for a long moment before slowly collapsing upon her. I could smell the scent of her shampoo in her hair mixed in with sex and sweat. I felt her kiss my neck and lifted my head just a fraction. I was still inside her.
‘Am I too heavy?’
I could feel her shake her head. I blinked to focus my eyes and leaned back a bit more. Her head was turned away, but I saw a tear slide down from her eye and disappear over the bridge of her nose. I frowned.
‘What is it?’
She shook her head again. I leaned in and kissed the corner of her eye and moved slightly, shifting so that my cock slid out of her as I rolled to her left. It was then that I remembered the word. ‘Amo.’
I squeezed my eyes shut. I heard a shuttered breath come from her side of the room. The bed shifted and I opened my eyes to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to me. I rolled on my side and waited for a long moment.
She had broken the only rule I had. She had broken it, and I had embraced it. I didn’t tell myself that it meant nothing to me. It obviously did – my reaction was enough to be telling.
I reached out just as she moved to stand up, my fingers brushed against the skin of her back and she looked quietly over her shoulder.
‘Come here.’ I said, nodding to the place she had just vacated.
She didn’t hesitate. My arms folded around her as she settled back against me, her head using my bicep for a pillow. My cheek rested against her head. We were silent.
Just before sleep took us both, I mumbled in her ear.
‘Good night, mi esclava.’
I’m not certain she heard me.
A field of textures, patterns and scents.
I love her skin. Dios Mio. It is perfection. Can it be called caramel? It isn’t sweet…her taste is savory, spiced. Cafe Latte, perhaps. Yes, better suiting, because it is silky, smooth and bold. golden. The color should be outlawed – she glows almost, her skin so sweetly sublime – so utterly perfect for her.
My palms itch to feel the smooth curve of her hips, her belly – my thumb seek to dig into the muscles below – all covered by that perfect flesh.
The smell, the careful attention paid to every corner of her body is our foreplay. My fingers graze those secret spots of whitened flesh where faint scars remain from forgotten sessions of love and pain. My lips feel the tickle of the hair that lightly brushes against them as I kiss my way across her belly.
It is never enough, the time we have, to trace each line of her fingerprint with my tongue.
It could be said that I consumed her.
But she consumes me.
I haven’t written in several days – at least publicly. Most of my thoughts are spent on scribbles of posts that have yet to take full shape – that, and spending time with the object of most of them. Yes, we have reached a treaty…again.
Never let it be said that the hope is dead within me. Sometimes I think I am more of a romantic than I let on – until I sober up from my love-induced high.
Now work has been time consuming – I’ve been averaging about 60 hours a week there because we are getting audited. It is as painful as the word might suggest. A standard practice considering the bureaucratic powers that govern my office, but still it ranks right up there with root canal and prostate exam in terms of enjoyment. Times like this make me able to say ‘Told you’ to anyone that choked on my level of organization. (I rather like that.)
I believe the term used was anal – I prefer uptight.
To quench your thirst for any erotic thoughts, I suggest paying Remittance Girl a visit. If she isn’t your taste – or you’ve already visited – try Writing.com – they have an eclectic mix of user submitted work though which you can page. Yes, some of my items are listed there.
"No one has the right to live without being shocked. No one has the right to spend their life without being offended. Nobody has to read this book, nobody has to pick it up, nobody has to open it, and if they open it and read it, they don't have to like it...."
Sadistic Excess Archive 