Saturday, August 02, 2008

He loves her

He loves her. He loves her, and denying it is like denying air to his lungs: the longer he denies it, the more wretched he feels. He is surprised by the depth of his feelings for her, by the sheer visceral-ness of it, even knowing her for years.

He wants her. It seems like he's always wanted her, wanted her since the moment she smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with intelligence and humor, and gave him her name in a voice that could melt glaciers. He'd felt a stir in his groin, and as he watched her lips move as she spoke, he'd thought "Butter melts in that mouth, but my cock won't."

She already had a partner, he learned, and normally he would have let it go at that, but damn if she wasn't unforgettable. So he stayed in touch. And so did she. Every once in a while she'd call or email and invite him to accompany her somewhere. And somehow, he always found the time, because time spent with her was magical.

He loves her, he wants her, and now he has her, and he's a bit scared, because he's not tiring of her, even after a couple of years. She hasn't bored him yet. Sometimes he thinks she might even be smarter than he is, and he likes that. She hasn't pushed him into any emotional corners. She doesn't make him talk when he doesn't want to. And she gives great head. He'd never really understood why so many guys were so enthralled by getting their cocks sucked--until she'd put her mouth on him. And then he knew.

She sucks cock like an epicure eats a gourmet meal. She approaches fellatio with the same reverence a penitent approaches an altar. And with his manhood in her mouth he knows what it is to be desired and accepted. The sounds she makes as she opens her mouth wide enough to stuff him inside. Her fingertips massaging his balls. Her tongue lashing the underside of his cock until he knows what torture is, and he finds himself begging for more. And he feels powerful, with this woman on his knees before him, this incredible woman on her knees worshiping his cock, worshiping him. It is a rush like one he's never known with anyone else and he doesn't want to lose it, to lose her.

He wants her all to himself and when she comes to him, he does everything he can to imprint himself on her, to mark her as his. He knows there are others in her life, others she loves, and he wants to be different, special. There is no one else for him, has not been for quite some time. He knows what he wants. He knows how to work for what he wants. And he knows how to get what he wants.

When she comes to him he makes sure her needs are met. He fills every hole with his dick and his fingers and still he wants more. He wants to find a way to wedge himself so deep into her that there is no knowing where he ends and she begins, until those magnificent orgasms roll through them both on a regular basis and she is mindless with the pleasure of it every moment. He loves her mind, but he loves pushing her to the point where her mind shuts off and she's pure animal, wild with lust. Lust for him.

Afterwards, he loves the way she smells. Loves the scent of both their juices mixed together like some pheromonal aphrodisiac that has been shaken and stirred and is best served hot and sweaty. He loves the way she smells between her breasts, and the way her nipples stand up and say hello whenever he is near. He loves the way she moves her body with his, and the way she vocalizes her passion. And he loves the way he feels with her, the sense of peace he feels after he has conquered her, after he has been on her and in her and through her. He wears her scent on his skin like clothing and is loathe to shower because as soon as he does, he misses her.

He misses her and some part of him thinks it is a weakness, to love a woman like this, with a depth approaching his first love, the woman she says he never quite got over. And maybe she is right but what she doesn't know is that when he is with her, when he is in the presence of the love they share, there is no one else and never has been. Its just them: 100% real, 100% awesome.

(podcast: listen here)

Labels: , , , ,


Anonymous sacredtouch said...

I love her. And I love her. And her. And her. And her ... ad infinitum, without limit.

You can't imagine how many flowers I love, in secret, behind a mask of respectability.

And yes ...

It is a weakness to love a woman like this. A beautiful, exquisite, insufferable weakness.

- SacredTouch

2:55 PM, August 02, 2008  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home