The Door Into Summer

Spring woke me with a gentle invitation

into your world of sonnets and panties.

Our conversation meandered, a brook rippling

melodious over boulders of hidden meaning.

You opened with a question, or was it I

who invited you to a picture of my desire?

Awkward and shy eddied together with brazen and wanton.

You pried away hesitation gently, my petals falling open

as you showed me your columned passion fisted and cradled

in your fingers. My lips ached for it, my tongue hungered

for that velvet, to slide around its ridge and dip into its crevice.

You distracted me with talk of irony and rhythm and meter

while coaxing the other nipple into your mouth,

and I felt the pull of your ardent suckling twixt my thighs.

Melody flowed freeform from your fingers, handling

a guitar neck as lovingly as they might ripple over naked flesh.

And my rivers flowed for you, viscous between swollen banks.

We were both now participating in the Literotica discussion groups on a regular basis, and Simona had introduced me to some of her cyber-acquaintances there. At a certain point, we agreed to make our relationship known to this grouping of aspiring poets and authors. We chose to do it in the following manner.

Simona and I both wrote poems in which we described the genesis of our relationship, and attempted to capture the magical intensity of our rendezvous in Salem. Simona had coined an expression, “electronic torture”, or the ETs, to describe the difficulty of trying to conduct a passionate affair online. We posted our respective poems simultaneously to Literotica, and it took only hours for some of the writers there to notice the similar themes. Here is Simona’s poem:

Electronic Torture

or Please You, Please Me

In the beginning there

was the yearning

amorphous

yawning

open

raw

soul

searches

reaches out

tentative, fraught

meaning easily lost

in doubt, in between screen

refreshes

are you there, friend?

what am I looking for?

don't know

a poem

sears

music

sings out

you speak

and I

respond

pictures

tease,

coax the

shameless

me to the fore

are you there, lust?

your voice

it reaches out

the fingers

curled around flesh
yours? mine?

surprised

I watch

I moan
I beg

I yearn

your turn, dear

more words

flow into

empty space

through sheer

frenzy

the refrain: when next?

text chases

text; cursor

flickers on

then disappears

your avatar

a beacon to

pure torture

so near

yet far

through

screen

and

wire

the refrain: when next?

and... dare we?

we meet

we fit, we

embrace

a whirl of

slippery limbs

sliding past

not sated

yet...

I remember

the mouth, the

arms, the lips

remember strength

recall the chest

the smooth neck

the scalp under

my fingers, soft hair

the shaft, so deep

so slick with me

and sweat

I breathe the heat

passion boils over

not enough time to...

I drink to you

I drink you

drink me

my love, are you there?

my dear, what next?

Here is my corresponding poem:

The Torture of the Electrons

A ballad.

In the beginning there was the byte

(the apple tasted real, and yet

temptation seemed so fleeting.) Could the wet

enticing promises we write,

in urgent bursts of hasty text

that volley on throughout the night,

begin to conjure up the sharp delight

of wild-abandon, shameless sex?

They can. They do! How could I know

that you would burrow 'neath my skin,

invade my heart, and then begin

to ache, and that the ache would grow

until the only cure, it seems,

is for us both to blithely show

to one another, in the glow

of liquid screens, our wettest dreams?

No parts too private, and no pose

too prurient -- I showed you my

erupting manhood; with a sigh

you plumbed your depths for me with those

salacious fingers, licking off the dew

and coming to the camera to disclose

your most compelling wetness, 'til the throes

of passion overtook both me and you.

Alas! Too soon the ache returned

one hundredfold, a keen desire,

an all-consuming fervent fire

that left us not assuaged, but burned.

To see but not to touch or taste

was not enough, we quickly learned,

our distant raptures seemed unearned,

caresses aren't so easily displaced.

That screen became a prison door

that coldly, cruelly thwarted me,

an obstacle to ecstasy

and not a portal like before.

And oh, the restless, chafing need!

Are you online? I must adore

you now, and more, and more, and more,

I'm famished, darling, hear me plead!

A sprawling skein of waves and wire

that coils the planet twice around,

a Babel made of light and sound

that somehow carries our desire --

and which electrons should I praise

for showing me your ardent fire,

what lines of code should I admire

for teaching me your loving ways?

We've planned a lovers' rendezvous,

we'll travel far through time and space

to meet each other face to face,

Not satisfied to talk and view

across the void, we'll make a pact,

I'll cross the wall of fire with you

to kiss, and taste, and suck. And screw

the consequences of the act.

The moment is at hand, my sweet.

Imagination cheated me! No dreams

could blaze like this; it seems

like suns collide when first we meet.

A torrent of desire commands

my senses! Vivified, they greet

your scent, your taste, the blissful heat

imparted by your mouth and hands.

I am your hungry devotee,

I worship at the flooding of your tide.

We'll put our worldly cares aside,
I'll sing to you a rhapsody

of how it feels so deep inside,

the best, the sweetest certainty

that you can dance this dance with me

until the culmination of our ride.

Now night must fall, unhappily.

Our glowing paradise must fade

and we'll go home from whence we've strayed,

where we'll resume, reluctantly,

our former digital romance.

We'll grasp at shadows ardently

and though it's pixels that we see

we'll move as one, together in the dance.

Almost a year later, Simona was to write another poem to commemorate this encounter:

Longing for You

Naked under the sheet

cotton brushes my skin

caresses me as if it were

your hands stroking my

breasts, cupping my hip.

Mapping me for future

dreams.

That time we first met

our appetites fully whetted

our tissues engorged

sweat drenching sheets

pillows under ass cheeks

as we fell upon each other

you wrapped around me

pressed hard to my back.

I felt your quiver, your rise

with our need, dipping into

wet anticipation, sl i i i i i ding

into folds oiled by

fingers exploring

tunnels and towers.

We feasted and slavered.

I swallowed you whole

while your tongue traveled

into and over and under.

Deep inside, my wetness tight

around you,

my lips - no matter which -

tasted your every inch.

I get wet just thinking

how quickly we threw

shyness overboard.

That very first time, we learned

we were better speaking Braille

and more fluent in bodily fluids.

I miss your passion, your smile

the hungry eyes: impatient,

guileless, seething with the

promise of feathery touches
as lust gave way to ardent tainted love.

We were having cyber-sex almost daily now, and if we could not arrange to both be alone in our respective environments, we would tease each other, flash each other over the webcam, and constantly fantasize together. In one of our webcam trysts, I retrieved Simona’s still-wet panties from the zip-loc bag in which I had stored them after our meeting in Salem. As we masturbated for each other on camera, I put her panties in my mouth and desperately sucked the remaining juices from them as she watched.

We tried to remain in contact online throughout the days and nights. When I performed with my band in nightclubs or city parks, I would use my cell phone during the breaks to send and receive emails from Simona. I was in the habit of taking long bicycle rides for exercise; now I found myself pausing every ten minutes and using my smartphone to log on to FetLife to read provocatively raunchy messages from Simona.

One night, as we were chatting online, we confessed that we loved each other. We did this with some trepidation, knowing that it would make our peculiar on-line romance, our clandestine life together, all the more emotionally intense and harrowing.

Simona: “Declaring our love for each other was a milestone. I had felt very uncomfortable when Andre had first started hinting at “love”. I felt that this relationship couldn’t possibly fit that kind of mold, couldn’t really be in the same realm as those where lovers fell in love. (And perhaps I was right to have doubts.) But it was hard to deny the obvious, and if my feelings of warmth and care and passion for him weren’t love, then my definition of love had failed me long long ago.”

In early summer I went on a camping trip with my family in the Cascades; Ella stayed home because she was needed at her job. This was the first time I had been in a location where I could not stay in contact with Simona electronically. For a few days I missed her terribly. At the conclusion of the third day, we returned from the wilderness and I stayed with my brother’s family in the small town where they lived. That night, I had cyber-sex with Simona using e-mail on my cell phone. It was awkward, it took forever to get a response, but somehow we made it work. It seemed all the more magical for the difficulty in communication; it seemed as if there were some mysterious erotic link between us that transcended any obstacles.

One evening, my band was scheduled to play a summer concert outdoors in a park in Tigard. I had loaded my amplifier and gear into the trunk of my car, and I had twenty minutes to kill before it would be time to drive to the gig. I went online and found that Simona was online, too. We exchanged a few flirtatious words and turned on the webcam. As I saw her face appear on the screen, and she saw mine, our faces ignited, as they always did, into mutually adoring smiles. Simona had remarked upon how youthful I appeared on camera, and I had noticed the same about her; there was, ironically enough, a quality of innocence in the way we made each other feel, the freshness of a first love. The giddiness that came with seeing each other, mooning over each other, was always followed quickly by sexual arousal. Simona was not alone in her home, so her clothes remained on. I, on the other hand, was alone in my apartment, and as the minutes ticked away before I had to jump in the car and depart, my shirt was rapidly off, my pants were down, and my erect cock was in my hand. I saw Simona’s lips part and her eyes narrow in desire. She typed excited words of obscene encouragement, and before long I was erupting all over my chest. Then I smiled again at her, cleaned up and dressed in a hurry, then rushed out of the apartment and off to perform with my band.

We were developing a sort of “wish list” of kinks that we wanted to try. These would emerge during our cyber-sessions. Simona let me know that she was excited by the thought of me cumming inside her, then eating her cunt and kissing her with a mouthful of our mixed fluids. I had heard of such practices, and had always found the idea a bit gross. But somehow, when it was Simona who spoke of it, it suddenly seemed exciting.

It had become clear to us that our rendezvous in Salem would not be a one-shot deal. Simona found an upcoming opportunity on her calendar where Herb would be on a business trip at the same time that Alistair would be visiting relatives during summer vacation. Simona had a legitimate reason to visit Portland, and we would actually have the opportunity to spend the night together. I told Ella that Lana, the Asian chanteuse in whose band I had played in years past, had arranged a gig in Seattle that would mean an overnight stay.

I was concerned about my ability to satisfy Simona during a nearly 24 hour encounter. Her sex drive seemed to have no limits, and I was now getting on in my years. I had recently experienced for the first time some episodes of erectile dysfunction with Ella. I made an appointment with a doctor and asked him for a prescription for Cialis. Having obtained the prescription, I learned to my dismay that ED drugs were not covered by my health insurance, and that an individual Cialis pill cost $60 at my local pharmacy, which was a budget-buster for a man of my modest means. I decided that I must do without, and hope for the best.

Second meeting

Any doubts about our sexual compatibility had been laid to rest in Salem, but we both wondered whether our second meeting in July could match our first. Simona had made the arrangements to come to Portland and stay overnight in a motel there.

I had gone to the drummer of my band and secured a marijuana cigarette. It had been 35 years since I had smoked reefer, but I remembered well its aphrodisiac effect on me, and I wanted to see how far Simona and I could push our glorious sexual rapport.

We had discussed the idea that we might have some foreplay over the phone as Simona was driving up. She had suggested naughtily that she might go without panties, and touch herself as she drove, at the risk of being seen. As it turned out, the traffic was quite bad and required her full attention, which put a damper on that particular plan. So I sat alone in my apartment (Ella was at work) and anxiously awaited her.

Another unfortunate development was that this meeting had coincided with Simona's period, and she seemed crestfallen about that, because she knew how I loved to eat her pussy. I was disappointed, but I resolved that I was not going to let a little blood get in the way of my satisfaction, and I told her so.

Simona called me to tell me that she was approaching my neighborhood, and my heart was racing. I attempted to give her directions on the phone, but somehow she overshot the turn to my street and had to double back. Finally I saw her pull up and park down the street and come marching toward me, all smiles. I remembered my cover story, that she was a fellow musician coming to pick me up for the trip to Seattle, and I refrained from embracing her until we were safely upstairs. We were both very excited. I fell to my knees and began to nuzzle her crotch. She said urgently, "Wait!", and excused herself to go into the bathroom.

I waited impatiently for five minutes or so, until she emerged, beaming. I fell once more to my knees and this time, she let me taste her, as she moaned and writhed against me. Then I rose to my feet. She reached for my fly, and asked, "May I?" I gave her my blessing, and she knelt before me and sucked me with the same ardor with which I had sucked her.

We were both thoroughly aroused. We made our way downstairs to her car. In a few minutes we were on the freeway, headed to the Portland suburb of Tigard, where she had booked the motel. As she drove, I trailed my fingers along her thigh, then over the wet surface of her panties and under them, where I began to tease her clit. She was quite vocal in her appreciation. Fair is fair, I thought, so I unzipped my fly and pulled out my cock, offering it to her hand. She eagerly seized the opportunity. We were barreling down the freeway, bringing each other to a fever pitch of excitement.

After 10 minutes or so, we pulled off the freeway and found our way to the motel. The process of checking in seemed to take forever. Finally we were given a room on the third floor. We embraced passionately there, then again in the elevator as we returned to the car for the rest of our things. At last we were comfortably ensconced in our room. We drank some of Simona's whisky, and attacked each other in earnest.

Simona was wearing her thigh-high stockings and heels. She clearly enjoyed dressing up for sex. She asked whether I would like her to take them off, but I suggested that she leave them on.

A particular kink of mine is cumming during 69. It is very exciting for me to be able to suck my lover's cunt as I cum, particularly when I know that my lover is eager to swallow my semen. Simona beautifully satisfied that yearning for me that morning, as I shouted for joy.

Afterward, we took a break. I had brought some cherries which I dipped into Simona's marvelously wet cunt, after which they emerged covered in her thick juices. We both enjoyed eating them. Then I strapped on my guitar to serenade her. I had practiced singing "The Way You Look Tonight" for this occasion, and I sang it for her, quite un-selfconsciously, despite the fact that vocals are not my long suit. I put on my shirt to protect my guitar from my sweaty skin, but I did not put on my pants, and Simona seemed to delight in photographing me with her iPad, playing the guitar naked from the waist down. Then we fucked some more. Simona's menstrual blood was present, but I didn't care. I was too excited to let it deter me, and I had come to like the idea of tasting it -- it seemed very intimate. I wanted to surrender completely to Simona, to do things which I had never dreamt of doing with other women. We did leave more than a few bloodstains on the motel bedding.

Simona responded to my caressing her G-spot and clit by cumming on my hand. I was delighted.

I returned Simona’s panties to her, which I had lovingly hand-washed and neatly folded. It was now mid-afternoon, and we decided to try smoking our marijuana. We walked outside, arm in arm like giddy teenagers, and found a nearby alley. I had heard that in the 34 years that had gone by since I last smoked it, commercial weed had been bred to become much stronger, so we smoked cautiously, only a few puffs each. We returned to the motel and made love some more, but the effects seemed mild. So after having a dinner of Simona's breads, cheeses, olives and meats, we ventured once more out into the alley, and rashly smoked the rest of the joint.

When we returned to the motel room, I was very high and disoriented. I felt like I was reaching out to Simona across a vast distance. We began to make love again, and the sensations were so intense as to be somewhat abstract. After some time -- I couldn't really reckon how much -- she suggested that we ought to get some sleep. I wasn't sure that I would be able to do that, but somehow I did. After some time, maybe an hour or two, I awoke. I was not so high now, and more in possession of my faculties. I was aware of Simona's soft, warm body next to mine, and I became instantly aroused. So did she, and in no time at all we were making love passionately once again. After a while we became tired and went back to sleep, only to soon awaken once again to the consciousness of each other's delicious proximity. We awoke and made love three more times during the night, and again when morning came.