The Door Into Summer

And, selfishly, I'm glad, ecstatic, we are able to spend time with each other like we have.

You are my addiction, love. But in the best way possible, dearest - not destructive. You've made me stronger, more confident. More at home with me as I've become more at home with you. You've expanded my capacity to love. I can't imagine losing you.

It was now late October, and Herb would be taking Alistair out of town for a few days, giving Simona and I an opportunity to spend an entire night together. As the date approached, I wrote to Simona:

We have less than 48 hours now before we shall see each other. As the time draws nigh, you may expect me to grow more and more agitated with lust for you, and I may sometimes babble helplessly about it. But I want you to know that it is equally important to me that I will look into your face without electronic filters, that I will hold you tenderly in my arms, that we will dine together, sleep together, and wake up together. And we will talk about all the things that intrigue us. We have had many wonderful discussions over the past weeks. I love that when we disagree, you stand your ground. I also love that you treat my ideas with respect. And I particularly love than neither of us clings inflexibly to an opinion -- we provoke thought in each other, we provide insights to each other, and we both evolve in our viewpoints, sometimes even reaching consensus. I often find these discussions to be as exciting, as intimate, and as satisfying as our lovemaking. And they certainly intensify my love for you, and my yearning to make love to you.

Fifth Meeting

I set off for Eugene in the early afternoon. We had selected a different motel, one of the national chains, because the Paramount was fully booked that night. I arrived around 3:00 and checked in. Simona had called to say that she would be delayed.

Simona had let it be known that she had designed a new kink experiment for us, so I speculated to myself about what it might be. Shortly after 4:00 she called to say that she was pulling into the lot. I gave her directions to the area where our room was situated, and walked out to the parking lot to help her carry in her supplies.

Once we were ensconced in our room, we embraced hotly, and Simona asked if I were ready for her project. I said that I was, She asked me to undress, and once I was naked, she asked me to lie on the bed, and she put a blindfold on me. She was taking the opportunity to play the domme, and I was hard and receptive. She instructed me to turn this way and that, and I felt a variety of sensations on various parts of my body. There was something tracing light, prickly trails along my skin (I later learned that it was a plastic fork.) She continued her exploration of my asshole, this time with her tongue. I was awash in tactile sensations, until suddenly I was receiving a familiar olfactory stimulus -- I smelled Simona's wet cunt, at close range.

Without asking for permission, I groped blindly for her hips and brought her cunt to my mouth. At this point, playtime was over and we abandoned ourselves to raw passion. I lost my blindfold in the ensuing vigorous activity. I kept my eyes closed for a while to try to stay with the program, but then I forgot about that as well.

After a while we took a break for more drinking. Simona had graciously invited me to choose a libation, as a break from our normal scotch regimen. I had asked for Wild Turkey with a beer chaser. Since we lacked a bottle opener for the beer, Simona ventured outside to the motel lounge to borrow one, and discovered that there was blues band playing there. This was information that was to prove useful later on.

Simona sampled Wild Turkey and found it too sweet for her taste, returning to her beloved scotch. Then we went on to fuck all night.

After a few hours of sleep, we got up and had a quick breakfast from our usual provisions. Then it was time for another experiment. I had brought a video camera. I set it up on the TV dresser and turned it on. We saved the video we made.

It shows the two of us advancing to the bed from opposite sides, walking on our knees across the mattress to meet the in the middle of the bed. I reach for Simona's breasts and bring them to my mouth. Then she crouches down and begins to suck my cock. My hips flex in rhythm with her sucking. I throw my head back, gasping and moaning. Then I break free, push her to her back and bury my face between her thighs, as her legs go elegantly into the air and her fingers find her nipples. She cries out softly, "Oh god!", then we switch back to our previous position.

I break free once again, and Simona whispers "So good!" as we assume the 69 position. Then we go to town, writhing and moaning and trying different angles and variations. It is very arousing to watch.

Later, after we checked out of the motel, we drove our respective cars to a nearby Starbucks. As we got out of our cars, I walked toward her in the parking lot and saw the familiar smile blossom on her face. It was too public for us to embrace. We drank espresso together, and then I was once again on Interstate Five, headed north.

Intermezzo

I attended a discussion group with Ella, which was held in the conference room of a Best Western motel in Beaverton, a suburb of Portland. I had left something in the car, and as I walked through the halls of the motel alone to retrieve it, I was suddenly aware of a strong feeling of well-being. I realized that I had developed a sort of Pavlovian response; I associated motels with happiness.

There was a phenomenon which we had both observed, which was that when we went on the camera, our faces would both light up in a way that spoke of the strong similarity of our emotional make-ups. It was a sensuous expression of limerence, the concept to which Simona had called my attention. I tried to capture this feeling in a poem, part of a series that I called “To My Carnal Darling”:

It blossoms like daybreak

and garlands your visage,

electric with limerence,

lovely as butterflies.

Smiling like fireworks,

you dance on my retinas,

loosing the floodgates

of luscious wet memory.

Hot and sagacious,

you banish my sadness.

Famished caresses

and wicked rapport,

your clit and your nipples,

they nourish me, darling.

Poetry found us,

and keeps us, forever.

In fact, the exchange of smiles online was like looking into a mirror. We both looked, to my mind, somewhat scholarly and slightly disheveled, with similar mischievous grins and an amorous glint in our eyes. We derived similar joys and anxieties from our relationship, and for both of us, the connection between limerence and outrageously hot sex was very immediate. I wrote another poem to attempt to describe this connection:

Where Do I Begin?

Where do I begin?

I once did float alone above the multitudes

in lazy, stoic circles,

casting a hawk's eye down

for a glint of a promise.

Then (you know the day) there came

the sure, swift shock of recognition.

Perhaps the epicenter was a poem.

You and I were mirror image,

inexorably drawn

to lovingly collide.

At every point of contact

we spontaneously combust --

salacious tongues of flame arise

to purify, to weld and fuse.

It takes my breath away, this

transcendent tension where our bodies merge,

the alloy of our hearts, where boundaries are blurred.

I see it in the mirror of my screen;

is that your smile, or mine?

At moments like this, where do you end?

Where do I begin?

November was an unlucky month for us; no opportunity arose for a real-life meeting. I had planned a vacation to visit relatives in Ireland in the early part of the month. My wife and I made the long journey there and stayed for two weeks, during which I took advantage of my frequent insomnia to communicate live with Simona at times which would work with the significant time zone difference; the wee hours of the night in Ireland were daytime for her in Eugene. Our contacts during this period were unavoidably chaste. Although we kept in daily contact, there was for me a psychological effect in being so geographically distant. I was eager to return to Oregon to be nearer to her. A window or opportunity was to open in early December.

Sixth Meeting

Simona had an academic event at Portland State University, and she had arranged to stay the night before in a motel downtown near the campus. I joined her around 4 PM.

It was my turn to orchestrate a "scene", and after we had greeted each other passionately, I asked her to disrobe. I blindfolded her and asked her to lie face down on the bed, at which point I bound her wrists with a necktie. Then I asked her to elevate her ass and rise to her knees, while keeping her head down on the pillow.

I began to explore her body. I caressed her breasts, tweaking her nipples, then I carefully clamped a clothespin around each of them. I heard her sharp intake of breath, but she did not object. Next, my hands found her cunt, which was, as always, lusciously wet. With my fingers inside her, working her G-spot, I visited her asshole with my tongue. I was re-enacting a scene from one of her stories on Literotica that I had found provocative when I first encountered her writing.

Before long, the blindfold and the necktie had fallen by wayside and we were in full flight. Simona had cum numerous times, and I was right on the brink of cumming. I wanted to cross that threshold. I saw Simona’s wet panties lying nearby on the bed, and as we continued to fuck, I seized them and rubbed them against my face, before finally stuffing the crotch into my mouth so I could suck her juices as she watched from only inches away. That was all it took to make me cum.

We took a break for dinner, some delicious pickled herring in wine sauce on bagels. Then it was time to try some marijuana for the second time.

We took a walk outside in the dark autumnal night, looking for a suitably secluded spot. We settled upon a little cul-de-sac by an apartment building. We tried to estimate how many tokes would be the right amount before we extinguished the joint. We started to walk back to the motel, but paused along the way because Simona had worn no panties, and we thought it might be nice for me to finger her naked cunt in a semi-public place. We were right about it being nice.

When we returned to the motel, we were quite high -- just high enough. But before we could proceed, Simona received a call from her husband. I was worried that she might say something that could betray her intoxicated state, but she seemed to conduct herself with considerable aplomb. The call was probably only a few minutes in duration, but in my intoxicated state it seemed to last an eternity.

Then it was over, and we turned our attention to each other. We kissed, and I tweaked Simona’s nipples through her blouse. Then I asked her whether she would like to see my cock. She told me with genuine enthusiasm that she would.

Before long we were both naked on the bed. Simona began to cum, over and over. It was quite remarkable. We sixty-nined until she came. Then I took her from behind until she came. We lay side by side and I fingered her until she came. Whatever we could think of to do seemed to bring her to orgasm. At one point she murmured to me with a grin, “I just can’t stop cumming.”

It seemed that we had found the optimal dosage of reefer for maximum aphrodisiac effect. It was as if the erotic potential for every touch was enhanced. I felt able to make every movement more arousing by just hesitating a bit, adding a little more pressure, surprising my lover with a sudden thrust, and both of us responded to each other in such a way that the slightest contact was mind-blowingly hot. We fucked and sucked hour after hour. We found ourselves getting dehydrated, so that every half an hour or so, one of us would stagger into the bathroom and come back with two glasses of water, which we would drain to the dregs. Then we would immediately begin to fuck again.

We continued throughout the night, taking brief naps to restore our strength, after which our lust would flare up anew. Finally, when daylight came, the effects of the drug had largely worn off. We made love one more time, without the supernova effect of the aphrodisiac, but very sweetly and naturally, culminating in a loving simultaneous climax.

Simona put on the science pendant that I had given her for her birthday, and I believe she wore it to her meeting. It warmed my heart tremendously.

Intermezzo

The meeting near the campus had been one of our most thrilling encounters. Afterward returning home, we both marveled at it during our internet chats. But then another opportunity for a tryst arose, and we decided to seize it.

Seventh Meeting

Only two weeks had passed, and I was once again on the road to Eugene. I had embarked early; the plan was for me to pick Simona up near the campus in the morning, and we would have most of the day together.

This would be a break from our usual pattern; instead of one of the chain motels that were all very much alike, Simona had booked a room in an independent establishment downtown, with a little more personality.

I met Simona at yet another coffee shop, and we set off for downtown Eugene. She quickly made it apparent that she was in her domme role again; I was permitted to touch her hand, but nothing more intimate than that.

We arrived at the hotel, and it was more luxurious than what I was accustomed to - plush carpets, beautiful wooden staircases and maple paneling. Simona availed herself of the valet parking. We checked in and went up to the second floor to our room. Once inside, we embraced, but Simona had a plan that must be strictly observed. She placed two chairs facing each other next to a table, poured two glasses of scotch, and prudently placed towels on the seats. She asked me to remove my pants, leaving me naked from the waist down,and instructed me to sit down opposite to her while she stripped down to her bra and panties.

She began searching through her supplies for something that continued to elude her. “Damn,” she said at length, “I can’t find it.”

“Can’t find what?”

“The toenail polish.” Then she confided that her intention was to have me paint her toenails while sitting agonizing close to her wet panties, forbidden to touch or taste. It was a very intriguing plan, unfortunately thwarted by the lost polish.

Simona: “In our continued playing with BDSM scenes, I had racked my brain for what to do that would create the proper atmosphere but not be too over-the-top or forced or worse, ridiculous, for either of us. Sexy but not sordid. I remembered reading hot scenes where the man shaves the woman’s pubic mound, but this was irrelevant as I had begun to shave regularly for my partner anyway. I had recently attended an event for which, unusually for me, I had had a pedicure and had worn toenail polish, and I thought, “Bingo! I will have him paint my toenails while on his knees, which would put him tantalizingly close to my pussy and tease both of us.” I threw the nail polish into my bulging bath kit, very pleased with myself, and went off to our meeting place. Imagine my shock as, on the spot, I simply could not remember exactly in which bag I had put the polish, and was getting more and more frustrated with my fruitless searches, quite conscious that the mood was deflating. Finally, I simply gave up and decided to play it by ear and come up with something else.”

But all was not lost. “Look at my panties,” she said. I fell to my knees in order to get a good look. There was a veritable lake of her pussy juices which had seeped through the fabric and formed on the surface of her panties. “Let’s take a picture,” she said, and handed me her phone. I took a photo, where the thick pool of her juices is impressively visible.

“May I taste it?” I asked.

“Yes, you may.”

I fell to my knees again and brought my hungry mouth to her pool, then dragged my tongue along her crotch as I lapped up her juices.

“Let me take a picture of you,” she said. She removed a beaded necklace from around her neck, and artfully wrapped it around the base of my erect cock, then around my balls as well. Then, looking quite pleased with herself, she photographed her creation.

At this point we were both highly aroused. We took off our remaining clothing and moved to the bed. I positioned myself above her, plunged my cock quickly into her cunt, then abruptly withdrew it, offering it to her mouth. She sucked her own juices off my cock greedily and with delight. Then I asked for her clothespins. She produced the bag with her toys, and I found a goodly number of clothespins. I attached two to her nipples, then two more to each of her labia. With her labia thus under pressure, I began to lick and suck her clit, while inserting my fingers inside her to stimulate her G-spot. The combination of sensations brought her quickly to orgasm.

Simona: “I had discovered that the extra pressure afforded by the clothespins indeed added to the pleasure of having my clit sucked and my cunt invaded forcefully. The intensity of the entire experience was heightened, despite my original worry about the pain. I now understood much better what people wrote about when they described the feeling and results of using clamps on nipples and labia.”

At that point, the toys fell by the wayside and we began to fuck in earnest. We tongued each other’s assholes. We did everything we could think of to surrender to each other carnally.

Finally we rested, and enjoyed a meal of bagels with salami and herring in sour cream sauce. Then I produced the remaining half of a joint, which I had saved from our previous encounter. We dressed, and set out upon the streets of downtown Eugene, in search of a suitable place to smoke.

Before long we found a park where there was a secluded spot. We lit up and began to smoke as discreetly as possible. However, here we made a tactical error. We assumed that since smoking half the joint had worked so well for us during our last encounter, that smoking the other half of the joint would work equally well this time. We had forgotten that as one smokes a joint, more and more resin accumulates toward the end. So when we had finished the second half, we were very high, higher than we had anticipated.

We wandered around downtown for a while. I found walking to be awkward; I was concerned about losing my balance. Simona seemed somewhat more self-assured. Finally we consulted each other and decided that we should head back to the hotel.

We made it back to our room without incident, and I reminded Simona of our plan to read erotica aloud. She seemed skeptical about our ability to do it successfully while so very, very high, but after a moment’s reflection, she said, “Let’s do it.” I found the dirty story I had selected on her computer, and she sat down on the bed to read it.

“Don’t forget,” I said, “you must take off your leggings.” She giggled and wrestled them off, then resumed her position on the bed, naked from the waist down, with me crouching on the floor between her legs.

She began to read the story aloud, with surprising concentration. I had selected a story for her that was in the first person, where a woman describes how she has reluctantly agreed to give a lap dance at a private party because she needs the money. The recipient of the lap dance is a man who is an acquaintance of hers, but he is blindfolded, so she anxiously hopes he will not recognize her. And as the dance proceeds, she finds herself becoming aroused until finally she allows the blindfolded acquaintance to eat her cunt.