tagFirst TimeIn Loving Memory Pt. 09

In Loving Memory Pt. 09

byTara_Neale©

Claire was beyond caring. She heard him call her name, plead with her. But it simply did not register. Her body was afire. Her whole being strummed with energy. She felt more alive than she had in...forever.

She looked up into those grey-green depths as she lifted her hips higher, opened her legs a bit wider. He slipped deeper inside of her. But still it was not enough. She needed more, wanted to feel Him buried deep inside of her. It had been her favourite fantasy for so long.

His earlier words toyed with her mind. His first. The idea that hers was the first cunt he had felt wrapped around his hard cock fuelled flames...naughty, dirty infernos in her mind. Of course, she was not surprised eight years ago to learn that the insecure and wounded young man was a virgin. She would have been more surprised if he were not.

But this man? He wore confidence and dominance as well as he wore those too tight jeans. It just did not make sense. He could have had his pick of women. Young women. His earlier question of her echoed in her mind, "Why?" she whispered through the haze as she arched a bit higher, taking another inch of him deeper inside her body.

He shook his head as if to clear cob webs from his brain. His breathing was ragged. His face showed the tension that she knew was mirrored in her own. "How could I with anyone else, Claire?" He brushed a soft kiss over her lips. "You spoiled me for all other women...from that first email," he whispered as he took the lead, plunging fully within her as she arched up in ecstasy.

How many times had she played with her toys imagining it was His young, virile cock plunging into her? How many orgasms had this man given her over the years? Well, the fantasy of Him anyway. But that was not what she wanted now. No, what she wanted, needed, was the reality. She needed to feel Him buried balls deep inside of her...if only this once.

She shoved at his chest, rolled them so that she on top. On top, it was the position she had assumed for five years. The only one his health permitted...when he was well enough, when the little blue pills worked. When he could be bothered. Before he stopped trying altogether. Mistakes of the past were not what she wanted to think about in this moment. He had no place here. Held no power over her anymore.

This moment was His. Had been so long in coming. She had even given up. Thought it would never really happen. Perhaps it was not. Perhaps it was all just a dream. If it was, then she did not want to wake up. Tentatively she held out her hands. As if afraid she might break the magical spell, she began to run her hands over His shoulders and chest.

So smooth. So Strong. So healthy. She bit her lip as she sank down fully upon His hard cock. It throbbed and twitched inside her. James bucked beneath her like a bull at the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo. But it was as futile now as her attempts to fight this attraction between them that had been smoldering for eight years.

His hands came up to grip her hips. At first she thought He meant to dislodge her. She stared into those eyes, pleading. Then His hands began to guide her movements. "Slower, Claire. I want this moment to last as long as it can," He gritted His teeth and shut His eyes. His breathing was ragged and His hands faltered for a moment in the rhythm. "Fuck," He spat as His eyes popped open again. "Fuck that feels good. You are so fucking tight."

Claire laughed and she felt Him tremble as her muscles tightened with the action. "What's with all the fucking, James? You really should watch your language. It is very naughty. I might have to wash your mouth out with soap like a naughty little boy."

There was no warning. He simply overpowered her. Rolling them so that it was once more Him on top, He pushed deep inside of her. She tried to suck in air, but there seemed no more room for oxygen in her lungs than there was for Him in her cunt. The sensation of fullness sat right on that delicious border of pain and pleasure that she had become addicted to for so long.

She closed her eyes and arched her body up to meet Him. She moaned as He miraculously managed to push even deeper somehow. She felt her body spiraling. The old familiar tension was building deep inside of her once more. And it felt good. No, it felt like life itself.

Her hands gripped the taut muscles of His shoulders. She ran them over the heated surface as He began the ancient dance, the pounding of their hearts like drums in their heads keeping tempo with their bodies. In and out, she felt each long, forceful stroke. She was beyond words but her body remembered the song. Even through all this time, the music was so familiar that it took up the beat, sang along with each note.

Then there were no words. No thoughts even as her body did that for which it was intended...took pleasure, even as she gave it. She soared like a giant crane, gliding and dipping her wings into the refreshing water that had been denied her body and soul for so long. The flight went on forever. Just when she thought that she would land with a bump, her body caught another updraft of wind. His body fanned the winds, blew over her and through her. He pushed her to higher and higher peaks. Then when she thought she would lose her sanity, He deposited her safely back in her nest.

His nest actually as the soft white down of the pillows and duvet enveloped her. She laughed out loud, very loudly. He jumped, pushing up on His elbows to look down at her as wave after wave of mirth washed over her. It cleansed and renewed with each wave. He stared at her. Held impossibly still deep, deep inside of her and just stared down at her. His eye brow was arched, the questions expressed as clearly in His eyes as any words could.

It took her several minutes for the laughter to drain away like the tide escaping back out to sea. She just went with it, allowed the relief to wash over, the giggles to cleanse her. The laughter to feed ancient tidal pools of joy deep inside her soul that had been dormant for too long. Some that had never felt the life giving waters. He gave her that...and for once she simply took.

"Mind telling me what's so funny? It's a hell of a time to start laughing on a guy," He demanded.

Through the giggles, Claire managed somehow to spit out two simple words, "You lied."

James stared down at her for a couple more moments as the giggles quieted, "Lied about what?"

"That was NOT your first time," she shoved playfully at His shoulder.

It was James that laughed this time, driving His still hard cock deeper inside of her. "I think that might be about the biggest compliment a guy could have in the situation." He stared down at her for a long moment, brushed hair softly back from her face. "But yes, sweetheart, it was," His hips made a slow drawn out circle that had her clutching His shoulders even tighter as she felt the pressure building again. "Is, baby girl. I'm nowhere near finished with you yet."

His hand moved slowly up from her hip to cup her breast. He lifted the flesh, weighted it in His palm. Squeezed and played with it like a beach ball for a long moment as He moved inside her in those slow, torturous circles. "You know I always loved the tit pics best, Claire. They always made me hard instantly," He punctuated His words with a deep reminder of just how hard He was at the moment.

"I loved those damned maxi-dresses of yours. Especially when you did not wear anything under them." He bent and kissed the rosy tip of her breast. She watched hypnotized as His tongue licked at it like a little boy tasting the sweetness of a lollipop for the first time.

"But you didn't pack any clothes, did you? So I guess you are going to be stuck wearing nothing but my shirts for a while," He smiled at her like a cheeky child. She felt Him swell even more inside her at the words. "My shirts, Claire. Not his. Not your sons' that they left behind when they went to uni. Not your ex-husband's. Mine, baby."

Claire felt her throat tighten at that word. That word sprang and bloomed in her mind. Though she tried with all her might to stamp it out like a wildfire, still it flamed.

He held her gaze for a long moment. Dared her to speak, to deny it. But she could not. Could not make the words come.

He smiled once more. This was no cheeky grin of a child. It was the arrogant markings of a man. "Mine, Claire. And you want it that way too."

He did not give her time to confirm or deny His assertion before He bent His head and captured the hard nub between His teeth. He bit her nipple. Harder than she liked. Harder than she thought she could endure. He pulled His head back with the tender flesh still between His teeth. Her whole breast lifted and stretched off her chest wall. She cried out. Tears came to her eyes. When she would have sworn she could take no more, He released it as suddenly as He had captured it.

She shuttered at the foreshadowing...was that what He would do to her in the end? Capture her completely, enthrall her in His spell, and then just dump her. She knew that pain would be far worse than the physical one still throbbing in her nipple.

He bent His head once more. He licked softly at the throbbing bud as if a kitten licking its wounds after a fight. She moaned softly at the tenderness in this touch. That had always been her James; pushing her, demanding things she was not certain she wanted to give, cold and distant at times, then in a moment soft and tender. Always there for her.

Her hands came up and buried themselves deep in His hair, holding His head to her breast. Offering herself up to Him. Giving whatever He needed. Freely. Yes, if they were going to play this game, He would not need to take anything. She would give. Give it all. Freely, no strings attached. And when tomorrow came? She would look back on this moment with bittersweet joy.

"And here I thought you wanted me naked," she teased.

He looked up and laughed, "When I punish you, sweetheart. But you forget...CFNM."

Those four little letters hit her like a brick wall suddenly appearing from nowhere. They were a reminder of that first teasing email. He had asked her about dating. Why she did not date, to be exact. She had said that she simply could not imagine getting naked with a man, any man, ever again. He had replied...'Good for me you won't need to...CFNM.' She had not known what those words meant, but was a bit shocked that this young man, only a bit older than her own sons would tease her like that.

Of course, she soon found out what CFNM meant. And quite a few more of His kinky fantasies too.

His kinky fantasies? She wanted to be the one to make them come true. If not all of them, then enough that He would never forget her. Enough to repay His kindness over all these years. Because it was certain that she would never ever forget Him.

Her fingers threaded deeper into His soft hair. She liked it longer like this. It softened the hard angles and planes of His handsome face. Made Him look a bit boyish still. But it had practical purposes as well, she discovered as she drew Him closer. Her lips caressed His softly. "What do you want, James?" she breathed the words against His.

His lips crushed hers. His tongue invaded again. Like the Viking conquers that had invaded these shores, set up footholds that the Celts could never uproot, she felt it wrapping about her heart. The kiss went on and on as He began to move inside her again.

She felt His fingers wrap about her long hair. Felt His fist tug at it, pull her head back as He plundered her mouth and body even more. She felt the need rising afresh inside of her at this latest mastery. She felt His wind beneath her wings lifting her, throwing her onto the updrafts, forcing her to ride its unleashed power. And she unfurled her wings, wings that had almost atrophied from unuse, she flew. Flew long. Flew hard. Flew higher than she ever had. She soared as she held tight to Him.

Then she was drifting back safely into His arms. His lips softened as He teased and tasted hers. His cock slowed inside of her, but those slow circles were their own form of hell. Fast and slow, He played her. Played her body like a violin, an ancient pipe organ than had lain dormant for too long. He blew out the cob webs and coaxed tender notes and loud bellowing symphonies from her.

"Everything, Claire. I want everything. Everything you gave them and more. I want it all, baby," He whispered against her lips.

Her heart stuttered behind her breast plate. Did He know what He was asking? Did He understand how much that hurt? Giving it all...then losing everything? She shook her head as tears began to gather in her eyes. She did not think she could do it. Not again. Not ever again. It was the vow that she had made as she closed the door to his house that sunny summer day. Never again would she allow herself to be used like that.

Yes, she had known. Known all along. That the man who should have loved and cherished her gift of submission was in fact only using her. She was a convenience. Better than being alone. Better than admitting that he had made a mistake. That he should have never left his wife. And Claire had been nothing more than second best.

She looked up at Him. Her head stilled in mid-shake. This was James. Her James. All of this might be nothing but a fleeting moment, but she knew one thing: she would never be second best with Him. She was His first. And she was going to make damned sure that every woman who came after had huge shoes to fill. She was going to crawl so deep inside of His head that none of them could ever fully displace her.

She smiled and inhaled deeply. Clean. Fresh. Young. Healthy. All of it hit her senses in that moment. He was right. She had tried to crawl into the grave with him. But not for the reason He thought. She had not wanted to mourn the man who had died, but the one that he never could be to her. It was simply easier to live the rest of her life in a makeshift grave than to risk being hurt like that again. Used...and used up.

But she was not. There was still some of her left. That piece of her that had always been His. And she was determined to give it to Him...all of it. She began to move beneath Him. Her hips lifting to meet each downward thrust, drawing Him deeper and deeper into her web. Her hands ran unimpeded over His head, shoulders and back. She stoked and fanned the flames. Her soft purrs and moans building even as another powerful release was.

As she felt the cord tightening inside of her, she gripped His shoulders tighter. Her short fingernails bit into the corded strength as she cried out. She arched higher and drew Him deeper than before. "James," she cried out His name and it fanned the flames into another inferno.

He jerked her head back hard. Tears gathered in her eyes as He held her immobile against the pillow, "That's right. James. And you will never forget it. Forget who truly owns you." He plunged so deeply inside of her that she swore He had fused some part of His soul to hers. "You are mine. You always have been...and you fucking always will be." He punctuated each word with maddening thrusts.

"Mine. Damn it. Mine," He spat as His pace quickened. She clutched Him tighter to her body. She did all that she could to match His frantic pace. To give Him the relief He sought. To fill the void. To be what He needed. "MINE," He billowed as He thrust inside of her. She felt Him trembling as He came inside of her.

She held Him tight to her. She felt the tension drain from His body. His even breathing seemed like the soft sea breeze after a storm. She thought that perhaps he had even fallen asleep as she turned her head and pressed a tender kiss to His cheek. "I still say you lied," she whispered.

He turned to her then. His eyes were the greenest calm of a field of Irish clovers as He spoke. "Two words for you, sweetheart." He kissed her nose, "Internet porn."

They both laughed then. He brushed hair back from her face and smiled. Those green fields of clover covered with dew, "It can teach you everything you need to know except the most important thing of all...how it feels to make love to someone you care about."

Her own eyes covered with tears then. It was not the undying admission of love that she would have hoped for...but it was honest. And she would not spoil the moment with sentimentality. "Yeah well show me those porn sites."

They laughed and they loved. Neither knew what the future held. She was old enough to be His mother. He was only slightly older than her son. He had been a virgin. She was the old whore, used by too many men for too long. Both had huge pieces of their souls missing. Pieces that only the other had ever seemed to fill.

And in that bungalow on the rough Welsh coast they were free. Free to be and explore...one another's bodies, minds, and hearts. Did it last a day? Did it last a week? A month? A year? A lifetime?

Does it matter? The truth is that they were there for one another when they needed it most. They gave their all and they took in return. Like I said...they laughed. They loved. And they lived.

Isn't that all that any of us can hope for? More than anyone deserves? No matter how long it lasts...a moment or an eternity. All that matters is that it is real in that moment...and given freely.

I hope you one day find what James and Claire found in that bungalow. Hell, I hope I do. Goddess bless us all with such honest emotions. The end...

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