Lots of Ways to Hit the Ground

I tell you to go and lie down on the bed, on your back.

"Yes, Master."

I take a pillow and ask you to raise your hips up off the bed so I can push it under you, raising and exposing your pelvis, your pubis, your cunt. Without being told to do so, you spread your legs wide. I move over the leg nearest me and place my knees in between both of your legs. I place my hands under your knees and raise them, opening you more, exposing you to my eyes and my desire and my hunger.

You plant your feet firmly, either side of me. I lean forward a little, using my left hand to open your slick pussy lips, using my right hand to align my stiff wet cock with the opening of your vagina. I bring its head to your pussy lips, just touching them, and hold it there, waiting, at the entrance. Eagerly you strain to bring your pelvis up even more so that your cunt hole can swallow my shaft, but I put my hands to your hips to keep you still then move my hands up onto your breasts to hold you back and down. I pause before I slowly bring my hips forward and the head of my cock moves into your cunt hole, in between your slick swollen lips, to the mouth of your vagina where it encounters momentary resistance from its tightness until I push into you, splitting open the mouth and suddenly sliding in, up, towards your womb. I maintain the movement and feel the sensitive cock tip plough forwards through your rippling flesh. Then my groin grinds into yours and our bodies rise together at the impact as I am inside you as far as I can go. As far as I can go for the present.

You widen the spread of your legs, raising your knees even further, using your hands to pull them up and wider apart, offering your opening to me even more, and I am able to push a little further in, holding cock there, buried to its hilt, throbbing as the blood pumps into it, the lining of your cunt pulsing in sympathetic rhythm. The top of my body comes forward and down and my mouth eagerly seeks yours and we kiss deeply, tongues thrusting and twisting, lips pressed back against gums and teeth, sometimes nipping at each other's mouth, tongue, lips. And I slowly withdraw my cock right to the mouth of your vagina, only to rush back in to meet you where cock tip meets womb mouth, the blood and adrenaline pounding through our arteries to concentrate in cock and cunt, heightening all our bodily senses even more.

I move in and out of you, and your hips move with me, against me, and we gradually find our rhythm, increase the speed and the intensity of impact, moaning into each other's mouth. Each impact sends my fever-hot hard rod shooting through your sopping vaginal sheath, pushing waves of hot pulses ahead of it which slam into your cervix, and each impact brings My pubic bone into direct contact with your swollen clitoris, sending electric currents into the centre of your body where they collide with and ricochet off the waves moving up your vagina. "Under your skin feels like home, electric shocks on aching bones" (Snow Patrol).

Your mind struggles to follow the multitude of sensations assaulting your body, and you feel your control starting to slip away.

My hands grab for your nipples beneath my chest, finding one then the other, pinching and twisting and pulling them out, away from your body, expanding the sources of intense sensation for you, sending even more exquisite sharp electric sparks through your veins and arteries to add to the assault on your clit. My buttocks tighten then relax, only to tighten again, and again, and again, as they push my cock into you, again and again and again, and you push back from your ankles and pelvis, faster and faster, and we cry out in wanton abandonment. Music shouts out with us:

"I'm running wild,
And all the lights are changing red to green.
Moving through the crowd I'm pushing,
Chemicals all rushing through my bloodstream . . .
If you want it, Come and get it, Crying out loud . . .
Let go your heart, Let go your head, And feel it now
Babylon"
(David Gray).

Babylon, gateway of the gods and fabled city of mystery and beauty and lushness and power, confusion of tongues, confusion of words, inability to speak sensibly, we spin out into the galaxy once again, blinded by the flares of super novae, deafened by the vast deep silence and the pounding in our ears, by our desperation to be inside one another, as deeply as we can.

Suddenly the intense pleasure, almost pain, in your clitoris and deep in your vagina rises to a peak to explode, in pulses of ever-widening circles. Your whole body spasms as your mind is dazzled by the brilliance of explosions originating within and below your stomach. Your back arches, your calves and thighs tighten, you push up and out, and I hold onto you, riding you, still pounding into you. Your whole being floods with waves of light, of wetness and pulsing and heat, which climb and rush and crash on the shore of your consciousness and being.

For a day, a week, a month even, it seems, you ride a series of swollen waves through hot topical seas, beneath a high arching sky out of which shines seven dazzling suns, at times the deepest of deep bright blues, then scarlet red, then clear sharp darkness. The waves are large strong rolling hills of movement, up and down, advancing and receding, and your body is moved up and down and gently borne along. Then the waves start to slow and settle, diminish, flatten out, and the suns slowly fade one by one, to disappear, and the blue darkens to a grey twilight then to a soft darkness, and you begin to feel as if you are coming back down to earth.

But you open your eyes to find yourself out on the edge of the galaxy, in the vastness of deep dark space. You start to fall, weaving a path through millions of diamond stars, through the trails of scattered comets and clouds of cosmic dust, then swooping in past remote Neptune and its 13 moons, in and out of Saturn's rings, fragmenting them, sending jagged bright shards spinning away into the darkness.

You continue to fall, past the siren pull of giant Jupiter, down through the anarchy of the asteroid belt, slipping to the right of blood-red Mars, to re-enter Earth's atmosphere and come back to your saturated tingling body, My weight on you, Cock now at rest but still hard, still inside you, maintaining the most intimate of contact. You begin to feel your legs again as the blood returns to your feet. You feel my heavy breath on your cheek, my heaving chest, as I recover with you, and you become aware of the room, the candles, the incense, the bed, and the music, the singer offering his gift:

"There's lots of ways to hit the ground,
Not many answers to be found,
We're faced with mysteries profound,
And this is one of the best ones."
(Bruce Cockburn).