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He had me off balance. Quite literally, as it turned out. As we walked into the silent, deserted center of the project, I stumbled and fell into some planking. I think it made much more noise than harm, although it did stun me for a moment.
When I was able to focus again, there was Sandy. His face was close to mine, giving me a concerned look that had much more depth of feeling and interest in it than the accident warranted. And he had both of his arms around me, ready to help me up. But he didn't help me up. His lips were on mine and his body was pressed to mine there on the soft ground, amid the scattered planking.
I heard the roaring in my ears, the roaring I had heard mingled with the surf back in that convertible on the overlook above the sea during that disastrous blind date so very long ago. And I heard the sound of Ned's moans and groans from the backseat of the car as he moved between the legs of his date. But were those Ned's sounds or Sandy's sounds? Or maybe mine? It was all just too new and too strange and too wonderfully frightening to know what was happening.
It was hot, so damn hot. I was struggling to loosen my clothes. I had to escape the heat. And Sandy was helping me free myself.
The roaring in my ears. He was murmuring questions at me, and, in my panic at the newness of this, the glorious threat of this, I was whispering "no" to each of his questions, knowing that he had to stop. This wasn't what I did. This wasn't the icy me. I was so, so hot.
He had his hand on me again, but now there was no trouser fabric between his hot, hot hand and my manhood. Someone was moaning and groaning and whispering "no" to each of Sandy's questions.
He asked me if this was new to me, and, misunderstanding him, I whispered "no."
He asked me—repeatedly—if he should stop, and, misunderstanding him, I whispered "no."
He asked me if he was hurting me when his battering ram was at the gate, and, misunderstanding him, I cried out "no." And then, as he stormed the gate, he asked me again if he was hurting me and whether he should stop, and, misunderstanding him, I clenched my teeth and cried out "No! God, NO!"
And the heat flooded in, melting the iciness that had long clutched at my heart, and the hot poker split me asunder and moved inside me and filled me and stretched me.
We were beyond misunderstandings and "no." Heat and understanding and acceptance and love flooded inside me as Sandy fucked me relentlessly, flooding me again and again, driving the ice floes away with the lava of his love.
But, loud praises for the scorching release of misunderstandings—and fuck the cake; let it burn too.
- COMMENTS
Invisible2uover 16 years agoI have written several stories elsewhere using the switching of the narrators and didn't find this confusing at all. But that is only my opinion. I could see where it would confuse others though. This was a beautiful story of not only sexual compatibility but of deep love as well. I think this story is way too good to be a one shot deal. It makes me want to beg you to continue on and give us more insight into the two characters' lives! Brilliant!
shabbuover 16 years agoAuthorWe appreciate the commentors' remarks on the switching narrators in our stories. Shabbu stories are written by two Lit. authors who each have stories posted under their own pen names. We live on the other side of the world from each other, and the hallmark of most of our Shabbu stories will be this movement from what one narrator is experiencing/doing/thinking to what the other narrator is experiencing/doing/thinking in the same scenario. This is how we develop our stories as we respond to each other across the world.
Anonymousover 16 years agoIs that it was too short! How dare you make me like them so much then snatch them away so quickly?! Sigh..I still loved it-because the characters were interesting and made you want to know them and peek into their lives,because the language used was lovely and evocative, at times steamy but never becoming crass.I did find the point of view switching a bit confusing, but loved it at the same time. Stories written from one perspective often leave me dying to know what the other character was thinking and feeling. Well done!Thank you:)
Anonymousover 16 years agoI usually enjoy your stories, and I loved this one. The whole metaphor of heat and ice played out so beautifully. The switching between narrators was confusing, but in a really good way. It worked for you rather than against you. The slow build up was very intriguing, and because you had some very erotic sex up front, I got interested in their characters, what the misunderstanding would turn out to be and how they would come together. Very well done.
