Brief Encounters: a Modern Cliché
For Eva & Louise
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The clichéd crowded room engulfs us - our eyes meet and linger for moments too long for the communication to be misunderstood. You briefly consider my physical demeanor - perhaps one that's normally forgotten in a second but there is that certain something behind it. My eyes tell you all you need to know about the excitement to follow as they look straight through the façade of social pleasantries and meaningless conversation. You're eager to know the depth of my being but do I know what you want? Have I seen through the window to your heart and desire and in that instant is it this that has stirred your curiosity? . Perhaps I have - you've seen mine, although you may not know that yet, we look away but in that fleeting glimpse we're primed and the timer is set.
However no opportunity for closer contact presents itself that evening but our minds are inextricably linked by that exhilarating event. We wonder if we really had the same effect on each other and we begin to doubt if the situation was as sexually charged as it was. Daydreaming relives the experience and we use this tool to further the episode. The beauty of daydreaming is that everything falls into place and we embellish the plot to ensure that we are irresistible to each other physically and mentally, leading to its ultimate conclusion of the most mind-blowing fuck we have ever had. Perhaps we include our unwitting partners in this fantasy - almost to the point where they are pleased and surprised how we were so much more enthusiastic in our efforts to give pleasure and be pleasured by them. We assure ourselves that because all this happens in our minds we cannot be branded as unfaithful - but isn't that what makes it so deliciously wicked. Because it all happens in that secret vault of thought and imaginary deed - there is no way we can possibly get caught.
Gradually our lives continue as before the buzz of that night, then incredibly and what seems an eternity later a chance encounter or casual introduction affords us the opportunity to actually realize those fantasies. You are even more devastating when you are within touching distance, I try to act cool but I feel like I'm in a minefield, a wrong move or word and those wonderful "real" fantasies will be blown to bits. You seem so cool but you too feel the pressure of reliving those visions where it all fell into place. Your mouth wasn't parched then, you didn't spill your drink, and I didn't laugh too loud, or seem so overly enthusiastic about everything.
Then the words dry momentarily but long enough to look into each other's eyes - not AT like we have all night - into...there it is as it was before. We can see it all so clearly, there is no need for this completely irrelevant verbal communication. The whole meaning of our initial contact was not mistaken and now the safety catch is off. We continue to speak but do not listen, our eyes take in all we need to know and suddenly there is music - a song known and liked by both of us but shared with another lover perhaps. How does the singer know us.? Why do all his words apply now when before they were just words? I take your hand to lead you to the dance floor, just an innocent dance.? Acceptable social but increasingly sexual foreplay has now lit the fuse. That innocent dance.... Only our clothes stop this being inappropriate, your real perfume fills my head, your sensual shape and movement serve only to encourage me to touch you more - you get moist when I do and you move closer, much too close, your hand strays lower than it should, an accident?
Only to the innocent bystander. Then it is too much - you turn as if to say something but your lips brush lightly on my neck - you know the exact place and I'm lost - I look deep into your eyes that welcome me more than mere words could ever do and I'm lost. I could drown in those bottomless pools. We are alone - how and where? It matters not and there is no need for words, our eyes and hearts and bodies have betrayed the physical and mental urgency now upon us.
We hate every second that clothes deny us the shiver of subtle intimate contact. Trembling fingers fumble with buttons and zips and clasps and catches. You strip me bare while I stop short to leave you like a work of art framed with expensive lingerie. Those black silk stockings and g-string eternally etched on my mind. Your whole self is an erogenous zone, to touch you anywhere would be enough, I do and it is. We speak in silence and yet say everything to one another, we both know each other's desires - hot lips inflame the passion, burning need is fired by butterfly kisses, heightened pleasure spurred by electric fingers. My excitement is obvious and after easing away the scrap of silk covering that promise of delight, so to is yours, your honey flow is enticing and more bountiful to my unhurried, tantalizing oral caress.
You abandon yourself to the demands your body has made on you coupled with the continuing and remorseless stimulation from my tongue teasing that button and from my lips on your lips. The waves build and build and you writhe to try to get away without wanting to get away. You hold my head tenderly but firmly, don't fear I will not disappoint you. Then it begins to surge through your body, you're flushed, heart racing, toes and fingers curl you hold that one last breath for fear if you breathe you might lose it - then explode in ecstasy, your being stiffens and shakes in its conclusion.
But you need more and you know your selfishness is also my desire - you take control and you give to me as I give to you. I lay back as your mouth closes on its target your fingers are everywhere prompting my stiffening response. Your efforts are rewarded as the flesh hardens and extends to its full length and its spasmodic jerks become more and more frequent. It seems to have a mind of its own and your persistent attention makes the pleasure almost unbearable but you do not stop - you know my gift is inevitable but still you do not stop, that flicking tongue, encircling fingers and hot wet mouth....oh my mind is spinning and my body arches to finally impart that gift, that hot lava stream given and taken with such joy.
Somehow by your loving ministrations you give this unattractive appendage an unlikely beauty and the hard flesh is still not lost. We both know that only penetration can make us one. As you sit astride me there is no resistance, no pretence, no guilt or shame, it fills you completely, stretching your very inside so that all of you can know all of me. Still even that is not enough and you rise and fall to feel it stretching you again and again and again. My hands roam and linger - those beautiful breasts, your neck and shoulders, the small of your back, the roundness of your buttocks and that velvet skin.
I gently pinch, stroke and caress you bringing increased gratification, your climax starts to well inside you and surprises you with its sudden consequence - not as intense as earlier but ecstatic nonetheless and so you continue harder and faster. You want more, it's a drug to you now and yet again you spend. You know I can't hold on any longer as you feel my swollen member burst with that searing tell-tale liquid heat which heralds your own personal finish....completely sated and still joined, we hold each other tightly.....no need for words, our souls have been bared to each other and we could both die in the bliss of the afterglow.
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