Need

In the beginning there is always dark....

I wake up in the dark every morning, always before the light has hit the sky. I can hear the city outside far down below my darkened suite. It doesn't matter which one, they all wear the same face.

I lay in the dark, remembering, in some half awake fantasy. "He" is there. My body comes alive as my brain tortures me with images from somewhere deep in the darkness. It's been this way for years now, it doesn't matter where I go. I cannot escape those dark seductive images from the past, they go where I do. I wake and feel the ghost of memory haunt my skin. Knowing that the next lover will not soothe the craving I feel, knowing the next touches will disappoint me. Knowing they will never be "him."

I touch myself in a futile effort to satisfy my longings. I let the images out of their tightly locked box in my brain, only briefly while I bring myself to climax. I see his eyes, I feel his skilled fingers on my skin, I can almost smell his sent in the air.

In a moment it is gone and I lock the images away once more. I feel the all too familiar feeling of reminiscent disappointment as I taste the juices on my fingers. I lay like this for a quiet dark eternal moment, alone, I am always alone...

"Where are you?" I ask to the dark knowing it will not give me any answers...I fall back into sleep and dream. I dream of him, my dark lover the one who showed me what it was I would always need. Let me feel what it is I would only feel with him, briefly we had a passionate affair when I was younger. It ended just as brilliantly as it burned and we have not spoken since, no lover has ever compared to the intensity I felt in his bed, from his touch....

The daylight is brimming on the horizon as I pull myself from the warm sheets and head for a scalding shower. There is much work to be done. I freelance write and photograph for a few European publications, mainly articles to do with up coming artists. You know, who's the next big thing sort of stuff.

Most of them are the same, arrogant artistic moody types with little or no talent. Occasionally I stumble across one that has real ability but most of the time I am let down. I just do the job and move on to the next one. From time to time I sleep with one of the artists, I find they make decent lovers. Most have attention to detail that eludes the common man, I find myself wondering about the one I am supposed to meet today. Will I be let down again? Will there be real talent and drive? Will there be some lusty fire that is ready to explode into the world? Will we fuck until our bodies are dust? Will I find what I am searching for? I won't let myself hope for too much, knowing that disappointment is lurking like a stalker around the next corner.

The magazine has faxed over the information that I need, strangely it's not very much. Just a contact name of "Claire" and a phone number. I don't think too much on it though, this is a relatively new magazine that I am writing for. Probably some young pretty intern got distracted into giving a blow job in the fax room for her superior and forgot to send the rest of the information. I smile as I think of it, cute blond ringlets and big blue eyes thinking that she will be kept on past the summer for sure now.

I pick up the phone and ring the number, a pert English accent answers. "Yes, this is Claire." she says.

"Hello, this is Sabina..." I am about to tell her who I am and which magazine I am writing for when she interrupts me.

"Of course, the writer, we have been expecting you." she says " be here at three o'clock." she commands. She gives me the address to the warehouse. I am slightly taken aback, most of the time they don't know who the hell I am and have to reschedule. Someone must have faxed her over more information then they faxed me.

I start to ask her the name of the artist I am supposed to meet when I realize the line is dead. She had to be an agent, there is no denying the arrogance of an agent when they think their artist is what's hot. I set the phone down and think they are trying to manipulate me into some mysterious illusion of this artist...it's all about image in this world.

I set out to get ready, knowing that it will take me sometime. I am particular in the details, things have to be just right. Perfectly shaved legs, jasmine oil with a hint of scent without being overpowering, no nicks in my finger and toenail polish. Silky black colored thong back underwear with matching garter, stockings and bra under a sleek dark gray skirt and tailored matching jacket. Long legs ending in heeled shoes made in custom Moroccan leather. My long copper hair pulled back in a loose braid with tendrils falling down framing my face.

When the time ticks down I take a cab to the address Clarie has given me. Over the years I have been to countless warehouses in industrial sectors of every major city you could possibly think of. Some where out there is an artist's manual that has commandments in it the first being "Thou shalt procure a warehouse in which you will live, work and possibly die."

The cab pulls up out front and I am not surprised by what I see, a large steel gray warehouse with a small wooden door on the left side. I pay the cabbie and get out to be greeted by the beginning drops of January rain. I grab my bags and briskly I walk to the door and open it, I look for the lift and spot a sign reading "Elevator non-operational please take stairs." it has a big red arrow pointing to flights of dimly lit stairs.

Equipment bags and all I pound up the stairs, my skirt extended taunt across my thighs as I climb up the stairs. My heels echoing out across empty space. When I reach the top I see a big heavy metal door with a twisted iron handle. I knock loudly and listen for some reply, I hear a sliding of what I imagine to be a lock and the door swings open. A tall blond woman with sharp features steps out, the English accent tells me she is Claire. She smiles at me and looks me up and down like she is accessing me, like she is taking me in.

"Go in," she says "have a look around, he should be here shortly." she smiles at me again and starts to walk away from me. "I really must run, please make yourself at home." she dismisses me with a wave of her hand and starts to walk down the stairs I have just come up.

Instantly I am somewhat irritated by her flippant attitude and that I am being made to wait. "Arrogant bastard, make me wait for you!" I think as I dig in my bag and produce my camera. I pull open the heavy door impatiently as I step through I realize there is no light anywhere except from the hallway behind me. Just blackness everywhere in front of me, I pause and look behind me. I forgot to even ask his name, I feel like a foolish armature. I take a few steps forward into the blackness and extend my hand, I feel something soft like velvet.

Yes, that's it... velvet, like stage curtains I think to myself. I feel around more to the left and to the right, I find an opening just to my right and pull the curtains back. I step into a room, I see soft dim light to my left, seven small votive candles have been placed on the floor at the base of an eight foot tall photograph. "How interesting" I think to myself as I approach the piece. It is an intimate picture of a woman's back and buttocks laying on a bed one leg pulled up and the right foot casually placed behind the left knee. The picture has been enhanced, the colors of the woman's flesh are purple tones and the blanket she is laying on has been turned dark green. The whole scene is very sexual. I take my jacket off and look around me I set my bags and jacket down, a room has been made with velvet curtains it is not much bigger than ten feet by ten feet, just enough for a few admirers to stand in. I notice another opening in the curtains just to my left and walk through it.

Another room has been created and the same set up, an eight foot tall photograph enhanced to look like a black and white oil painting this time, seven votive candles on the floor providing the only light in the whole room. This one is taken from a different angle and is of the woman's legs laying diagonally across a bed. I walk through eight rooms in total each a different enhancement of women, maybe the same woman I think. I admire each one of these erotic pieces taking photo's as I go. I notice that music is playing in the background, lust filled rhythmic beats that sound vaguely familiar I think to myself. I will write something favorable for this artist I decide. I look forward to meeting someone that has taken such a great deal of time and effort to set up such an elaborate display for me.

I step through the last set of curtains in this velvet labyrinth and gasp as I see the last photograph. This one has not been enhanced, it is a black and white of a woman's hands bound behind her back with black rope in artful knots, each hand on one side of her buttocks. The focus was not on her hands but on the small of her back on the left side where a small dark mole was perfectly lighted.

My hands begin to tremble and my knee's feel as though they are going to give out on me, my heart is pounding as I realize why these photo's seem all too familiar. Familiar because they are all of me. My mind rushes back to "him" the photographer, my dark lover...The music seemed familiar because it was the music "he" played when we had sex, rhythmic lust filled sounding beats. The smell, was my brain imagining this? I could smell his cologne in the air, my breathing became rapid as my heart pounded harder against my chest. My brain flashed with images from the past..."No, it couldn't be, that was so long ago, don't even hope it" I tell myself.

I put my head down, tears welling in my eyes as I try to reason my way out of this surreal reality. "This can't be" I hear myself whisper; it's then I realize there is a presence behind me. In one soft swift move he is behind me with his mouth on my neck breathing and his arms encompassing me, his smell fills my nostrils and I feel his warmth next to me, pressing against me. My head is swimming and I lean against him to steady myself.

"He has me again" I can hear my body whisper to my brain. In that one moment nothing else matters.

He whispers softly against my neck, "it's alright." his voice is smooth and seductive and instantly soothes me. "I knew you wouldn't realize until this point who the woman was." My memories come flooding back to the day those pictures were taken, after hours of sex we lay spent and relaxed in his bed. I remember him taking the camera out, I had never felt so relaxed in front of one as I did that day. Letting him take shots of me in the afternoon sunlight after bringing me to orgasm over and over again all morning.

"Thats why I set it up like this." he tells me, his breath on my neck melting away any inhibitions I momentarily feel.

"I saw you last year when you were here, I watched you walk down the dock like we used to. You looked sad, like you needed to remember."

My body is taking over, his hands are on me. Traveling up my arms to my silk top, tracing the shape of my breast down the curve of my waist to my hips and slowly back again.

He asks me so low I can barely hear him..."Do you want to remember?"

I can hear my voice telling him yes. He is touching me and that's all that matters now. He kisses my neck, my whole body feels alive. Like I have been asleep all this time, there is something about the way he touches me that lights every nerve up.

He slides his hands behind me and unzips my skirt letting it drop to the floor around my feet, he pulls my silk top over my head in one easy movement. His fingers trace slowly down the inside of my arms as I lower them. He makes an approving noise and tells me that I am beautiful.

I turn and face him, looking straight at him for the first time in years. He looks a bit older but very much like my memory recalls, tall, dark haired, smooth skinned and slender in build. His eyes look right into me, he is only wearing jeans no shirt or shoes.

I reach out and tuck my fingers into the waist of his jeans and pull him forward, he kisses me. It is a firm kiss not deep and he pulls back from me slightly. "No, not yet." he tells me.

He takes my hand and says "come with me."

I feel so hungry, my whole body has been so starved for this. I could throw him down and fuck him right here, he knows this, he's playing with me. He knows how I liked to be teased until I could wriggle right out of my skin. Instinctively I know this is going to be wildly fulfilling and I follow him beyond the next set of curtains.

In the next room I see a table set up with one master chair at the head, the surface is highly reflective and the table has been "modified" to include eye bolts on each of the far ends. Ropes are attached to the eye bolts fashioned into restraints. The only light is coming from the votive candles on the floor surrounding the table.

We walk over to the table, I face him and he picks me up and sets me down on the edge of the table.

"Lay back." he instructs and I obey, he takes one of my hands and places it in one of the rope restraints and walks to the other side and does the same with the opposite hand, pulling them tight as he does. The table feels as though it has been made just for this. He moves around and places blocks under my heels and attach's more restraints to my ankles forcing my legs to spread out before him. This position is only slightly uncomfortable, my back is arced and every muscle in my body is tense.

My brain is screaming "yes, this is what I need!" as he slowly runs his hands along the inside of my thighs moving up, I moan knowing this may take me to the edge of my sanity.

"It's been too long hasn't it?" he asks me.

"yes, too long." I answer "far too long." in my mind I beg whatever god is out there to not let this be a dream...please do not let me wake up.

He is up to my hips, tracing the indention of my hip to my stomach. I feel something cold against my skin and catch a glint of silver in the dim light, I realize he is cutting off my underwear leaving only my stockings and garter. He throws them aside and looks up at me, oh god those eyes, those deep intense eyes looking right into me.

I feel his fingers on the inside of my thighs, I feel myself pull against the restraints, I hear myself moan loudly. Lightly he brushes the lips of my sex and grazes over my clit. Instantly I feel like I could burst out of my skin.

"You like that don't you?" he asks, I can't even speak at this point I look at him and he can see longing burning through my eyes. He smiles and pulls the chair up behind him sitting down before me. Like my sex was the main course on his table, he's just looking at me smiling, oh such a wicked tease!

He moves forward kissing the inside of my knee and slowly moving forward. My eyes close , my heart is pounding, trying to escape my chest. He moves closer kissing and nibbling on the insides of my thighs, I feel his glorious hands on either side of my thighs pushing them apart. Spreading me open before him, I feel the tip of his tongue as he tastes the wetness that has grown between my lips. Slowly he licks me all the way up over my clit....slowly he does this again and yet again before he focuses on just my clit. I can feel his fingers just on the outside as he circles and builds up his rhythm before he pushes two of his fingers inside my cunt. He holds them there pushing up slightly, my whole body is trembling everywhere. No other lover has ever compared to this feeling, this need that is pulling me down lighting my soul on fire.

There is no reason or logic left in my brain, only the animal remains. He pulls his fingers out and tastes them, licking and sucking all the juices off of them careful not to miss any, like melting ice cream. He can tell I am beginning to feel frantic, I need to feel him inside of me.

" I have thought so much about this moment," he tells me. There is something about the way he tells me this that leaves no doubt in my mind that he knew that he would have me again, like this. All these years I thought he was gone from me, I had given up on ever finding this feeling again. I no longer feel alone here.

He stands up unbuttoning his pants he slides them off, the height of this table is perfect as he stands before me I can feel his hard cock in perfect position. He is just holding himself there...

"Open your eyes," he commands "look at me." I look at him, my eyes are misting over.

"Tell me, tell me what you want" he says "Look at me and tell me." he urges

"I want you," I say " I want you inside of me, where you belong." I feel his cock push into me, so slowly. "Yes!" I cry out, I must have it all, my need is building.

"Please," I beg "please all of you inside me, deep" I feel him push harder, shoving it in to the hilt. I remember, oh god I remember! All those images come flooding back, all the feelings resurface as he fucks me deeper and deeper...harder and harder. I can feel electric waves pulse through my whole body, I am so close to orgasm when he pulls himself out of me. I gasp as my cunt feels abandoned.

"I know..." he says as he reaches between my legs " I had to feel you again, your so wet, I want to taste you again." he tells me as he slips his fingers into me again. He lowers his face to my sex this time sucking on my clit, he pushes his fingers into me. I can't tell how many three or four, he is pushing me, he wants me to come on his tongue and hand.

"Suck me harder" I tell him and he does instantly while pushing his hand farther into me, he is working me over. He is ready for me to explode and I can't hold it back any longer. I close my eyes and see lights, bright lights as I scream out, he's holding me there sucking me working his hand in me, he is holding me in the orgasm for what feels like eternity. In one swift movement he is standing and his hard cock in deep inside me prolonging the orgasm. He thrusts inside me hard and strong, even deeper than before. I can feel the ropes cut into my skin as my whole body becomes rigid and I push against him as hard as I can. I cry out as he explodes inside of me, he holds himself there all the way inside me. I open my eyes and see the ecstasy in his features, he looks at me and we smile at each other both knowing this is only the beginning....