Consummated Desires

Then Jack surprises me by walking away very suddenly. Startled, I look up. He is at the stove, scraping uneaten chocolate from the pan I used earlier. He has a huge smile on his face. He offers some of it to my waiting mouth with his gentle fingers, then draws designs on my nipples, belly, and pussy with the rest.

He draws stars and moons, and explains how each time he sees the night sky he longs to hold me. He draws water, and tells me the first time he noticed I was truly a woman was when he saw me in a bathing suit at the beach when I was 16. He draws a campfire, and tells me how for seven years, every time he held me around the fire, he wanted to ask for my hand in marriage. He draws a ship sailing, and tells me he wishes we could sail away together to a new land.

He tells me I am beautiful. As he tells me his stories, his memories and dreams of me, he licks off every drop of chocolate, starting with my navel and abdomen. He licks my breasts with long strokes, and finally tickles my pussy and clit while he finds the drops he hid down below. He proclaims me delicious in every way, as delicious as he has always imagined.

I lay back and savor it all. His playfulness breaks what little tension was left, and is welcome relief. He returns to my pussy and eats me some more just to be sure he got all of it, or so he claims. His tongue is completely inside me, and he's now just holding it there. The taste of chocolate is sweet in my mouth, and the sensations drive me mad. My pussy lips start twitching, and my cervix continues to flow.

When all the chocolate is lapped off my skin, I sit up, and draw Jack's body to mine. I peel off his shirt and undershirt, and rest my cheek against his chest. I listen to his heartbeat, trace the blood as it course through his veins. I relish the feel of his inflamed skin against mine. I suck his nipples and neck and press my breasts against his chest. I run my nails up his spine and my hands down the back of his jeans. I kiss and suck his navel, rub the silky hair of his broad chest, and trace my tongue along the edge of his Levi's, over his hip-bones. I ache to devour him, but force myself to languish in first kissing every square inch of him I can get to.

He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight and groans. We somehow make our way toward the fireplace, where I lay a heavy fur-like blanket down on the floor. I undo his belt and button and zipper, and reach for his cock. It is throbbing in my hand. I kiss its length, suck it once into my mouth, then twice, then all the way to my throat. I hold him like that a moment, inhaling the unique odor of his balls and feeling him grow even harder in my mouth.

I work his pants off him, then his underwear. I breathe hotly on his genitals, then blow to cool him off. I take him into my throat again, and make him slick with my saliva while he gasps in pleasure. Finally I just roll over and pull him down on top of me. I don't want to hesitate. I don't want any more foreplay. I don't want protection. I want his seed spurting inside me in thick gobs while he trembles in lust on top of me and screams my name.

Jack slides right into me, and my cunt welcomes him in directly. I know instantly this is so right it is wrong. What I am feeling, what we are feeling, is a closeness and a rightness so sacred it should only be experienced by newlyweds on their honeymoon night. Our very souls intertwine as I draw him deeper and deeper into me. I cry out involuntarily with my desire. I know I also cry real tears, of both longing and sheer joy. Nothing that feels this good should ever be taken from me. Nothing this good was ever meant to last under the scrutiny of daylight. Only in the candlelight can I abandon myself to the overwhelming soul need I am feeling for this man.

He pushes in and out of me in the warmth of the firelight and croons my name over and over again. I respond in kind, and hold his ass tight in my hands so he cannot pull out even if he wants to. My pelvis tilts towards him, demanding its due. I cry openly as I let the comforting warmth of his presence flood my body. The blanket is soft and warm underneath me, the fire is hot on my skin, and my heart is bursting in my chest. I am drowned and delivered with every stroke.

He kisses my tears away and pushes deeper, harder, faster, longer. His cock is like a burning poker inside me. My legs hold him in place. My soul finally breaks open, shatters, and is instantly made whole again, stronger It is that easy; there really was nothing to fear after all.

He comes quickly and almost reverently, his bulging shaft filling my opening. He holds his member in place, looking me in my eyes as he tells me he loves me, he has always loved me. My body pulses in orgasm in time to his spurts. I shiver and shake as my whole body tenses in increasingly powerful spasms. Wave after wave immobilize me, pinning me to the floor, my mouth open in a huge gasping "O". I find my breath and absolutely scream my pleasure to the ceiling, to God, to Nature herself.

He holds me and kisses me again. He growls at me to "come, come harder, more" His seed gushes into me, and I don't care if it fertilizes the ripe issue of my ovaries. I love this man with my whole being. He knows I feel that way. He feels it too. Our empty, naïve, protective promises from earlier are blown apart by the force of our emotions.

There is nothing safe about this. We will see each other again, we will ask "what if", we will need to have each other. There's no way around it. On paper, he is married to another woman, but our souls are bound to each other now, with this act. We may as well have just annulled his marriage and consummated one of our own making. The force of it knocks the very wind out of me.

What is it like to make love to your twin soul? It is to have the essence of your Self delivered into a place so desirable the thought of its loss causes real physical pain. It is to walk among the Gods. There is no going back unchanged. One can only descend from the dizzying height. "As dawn descends to day... so Eden sank to grief"

As part of his own coming down, Jack extracts his member, and wraps me in the blanket. He holds me in his arms, in the chair, wordlessly for an hour. I curl against his naked chest while he gently caresses my body. There are no words either needed or spoken.

Eventually, I sit up in his lap, and kiss him deeply again. It is a proprietary act; I want more. I'll always want more. I slide to the floor and take his member into my mouth. Gently, I blow him. I concentrate on the head, pleasuring him in every way I know how. My lips create suction while my tongue works his shaft as I clean my scent off him. My pussy is dripping again.

I lick his slit, caress his balls. Stroke his length. When he is again hard as a rock, I lower myself onto him. We make love slowly this time, facing each other, my tits brushing his chest and mouth. My hair wraps us in a sacred shroud. He holds my waist and guides my movements. His mouth is open in ecstasy, my nipple tracing its outline as he comes again, into me. He holds me to him like he never wants to let go. My body glistens with the sweat of my raw exertions. His cum drools out of my gaping opening while his dick softens underneath me.

We move to the bed, where Jack proceeds to spend an hour pleasuring my entire body with his mouth and tongue and fingers. I orgasm hard as he works four fingers into my sloshing cunt while flicking my clit. My back arches and my body comes up off the bed. I spray liquid all over the sheets. He laughs and says he's never been with a woman as responsive as I am. I tell him the truth- I'm only this responsive with men I love, or could love. He responds by kissing me wetly.

We share sexual secrets while unhurriedly stroking each other's most private regions. I tell him about Amy and Tonya, and my gang-bang fantasy. He tells me about his own dark fantasies, mostly involving the outdoors and easy women. Strangers. We laugh at each others' humanness and the ridiculousness of the situation we are in, with his fingers in my pussy and my hand around his cock. He gets aroused yet again, and I playfully respond to his fantasies. "Follow me", I whisper.

I put on a skirt and jacket, and we head outside, where he shoves me down spread-eagle on the hood of his truck and eats me again in the cold night air as I pretend to be a stranger he picked up in a bar. I tell him how many men I've fucked that night before him.

He bares his dick and pounds it into me hard and mercilessly while I pant and shiver and moan. He carries me back inside to continue fucking me in bed. Along the way he whispers the dirty things he wants to do to my pussy and ass. We are insatiable; he unbound from his unwanted life of celibacy and me from my notions that surrender was dangerous. I am safe to love him and still want to be fucked like a slut if the mood strikes me. And it strikes me hard. We let go of inhibitions and descend into pure animal lust, never missing a beat.

Later, after a hearty round of doggie style pussy and anal sex, I jerk him off onto my tits and face after licking more chocolate from the length of his cock. His member remains hard through most of the night, and my pussy just keeps getting wetter. Indeed, the realities of our unrequited love are even better than the endless fantasies we each held for all those years. We know this night has to end eventually but for now we have each other. We sleep entwined in each others' naked bodies under layers of blankets. I have never enjoyed a night's sleep more than this one. I awaken to ride him once more in the early morning light, his cock languishing in my bruised cunt. We come again, reluctantly, knowing we must now let go.

What happens next? Might as well ask whether or not there will ever be peace in the Middle East. Am I a changed person? Absolutely I am. Can I go back to Ray? Probably, but it will never be the same. Will Jack's wife know what happened? She'd have to be an idiot not to, and I don't see him marrying an idiot. Only time will show all the consequences. There is a lot at stake, for both of us.

We'll see each other again, I know that. I know we'll fuck like mad and enjoy every precious moment we get together. We'll take each other with a timeless urgency behind waterfalls and in seedy motel rooms. We may become absolutely scandalous. Our families may disown us. I doubt that we'll be able to hold a relationship for very long with anyone else, but I know there's little practical chance of us being together physically as long as my work takes me to Central America while his family lives in Pennsylvania.

He needs to be with his wife and daughters, especially the youngest. He has the heartbreak of watching his child die ahead of him, and he needs the girl's mother for that. Hers is a role I cannot fill, as my role as his lover is a role she cannot. Will his wife get used to it? Can I handle a life of solitude in order to maintain the distance necessary to maintain periodic physical closeness with him? How often will I get to feel him inside me, on top of me, his arms protecting me? Once a year? Every two years?

Will it be worth the price we will all have to pay?

What scares me is I can picture myself standing at the Pearly Gates saying, with all my heart, yes, I would do it again, even knowing what the consequences were. What terrifies me is I am sitting with the reservation page open on the computer, looking at cabin rentals for the early spring. I think my soul may be made of much stronger stuff than little glass figurine after all. Anyway, I'm willing to find out, because that is what Seekers do. There are some places we weren't meant to dwell, it's true, but that doesn't mean we're forbidden from visiting. Man doesn't write all the rules, and there is no natural or heavenly law telling us who we can and cannot love, nor how we choose to express it.