by Cj Paul
When I used to dream of being with David intimately, I worried about feeling inadequate and grossly inexperienced. Silly, I know. But we all have our insecurities. Alternatively, Alex is just as lusty, but far more selective about who he takes into his bed. He’s literally only been with a handful of women. His explanation of his selectivity not only makes clear sense to me, but helps me better understand my own views of sexuality and what’s right for me. For Alex, sexual union is something so sacred that, despite intense desire, he chooses only to share himself with women whom he views as potential life partners. I realize I am the same way.
At one point during our lurid conversations, I made a confession that I feared could send him running for the Catskill hills. As my kundalini continued to dance and develop, I realized that while I loved all of the deliciously naughty scenarios we shared, I was at a point in my life and spiritual understanding (for lack of a better description) that I would only want to engage in such an intense level of intimacy with someone...who...was my...husband. And I told him as much.
I was really coming to cherish the sacred aspects of physical intimacy. I no longer saw hot sex talk as being ‘naughty’ – just the opposite. I started viewing it as absolutely natural, at least with the right person. And for me that person would be my life partner. The rub was that I was not itching to get married. Still, I couldn’t bear the thought of ending my steamy conversations with Alex. I was hooked! Qu’elle conundrum.
When I finished my long diatribe, lamely, there was an unbearably long pause. Then Alex spoke.
“That is the single fucking hottest thing I have ever heard in my entire life!”
Another pause – this time, on my end.
“Really?” I asked in shocked disbelief and relief.
“Yes, really! I have no idea why you think that might be a deal-breaker! We both feel the same way about lovemaking. It's a sacred act, an act of love. So, when you say that you wish to reserve sex for the bonds of matrimony, I think that is incredibly beautiful, spiritual, and extremely fucking hot. So, no, Sugar, it isn't a deal-breaker. It makes me love and cherish you all the more.”
Wow. Simply, wow! Heady stuff to be thinking about while walking into the ice rink to watch whizzing discs of hard rubber get smacked at the handsome face of the former love of my life. I enter the arena and grab a seat quickly, trying to go unnoticed. As I sit, chewing my nails and nervously tapping my feet in anticipation of David’s performance, my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Alex.
ALEX: Check your FB msgs... at your peril ;)
I do so and find a lengthy and, I am sure, lusciously lusty message from him.
7:12pm
Alexander Armstrong
You mentioned being insatiable, wanting more messages, more of me, more of us.
I have much work ahead of me this evening, but want to take a moment to indulge you as you’ve requested.
Dig, if you will, this picture, Cariña.
I come in from doing yard work. Hot and sweaty and grimy.
I don't see you, but I hear the water running in the shower, and immediately that thought makes me grow.
I slip quietly into the bathroom, where I can see you through the foggy glass of the shower door.
You're basking in the water, blessing each drop – those lucky drop that get to wet your body.
Your head is tilted back toward the shower head.
Water streams down your face, your shoulders, your breasts, making trailing streams of bubbling lather down your body as you rinse.
And now I'm engorged, and ravenous for you.
I silently strip.
Just then, I hear the whoosh of skates as the hockey hopefuls take to the ice. I gasp when I see David. Aside from the giddy grin, he looks like he actually belongs! I’m impressed. Those trying out sit on the bench and receive a talk-to from one of the team’s coaches. I return to my message...and the shower.
I startle you when I pull the shower door open.
I press right up against you, taking your breast hard in one hand.
Your ass, hard in the other.
I put my mouth on yours, devouring your sweet honey lips and tongue.
I lift your leg around my waist and press your back against the wall.
And enter you, deep, and hard.
My hand on the lower part of your ass, grinding your body into mine.
Kneading your breasts with the other, pinching your nipples just hard enough to make you squeal, and feeling your hardened nipples swell.
I thrust into you recklessly. Fast and hard.
Again. And again. And again.
Help!
I'm so swollen in you, water raining on us.
Banging you again and again against the wall each time I impale you.
Frenzied, feeling you begin to tighten and twitch around me, I stare into your eyes, see you losing all control and reason.
I want you to see the animalistic lust in my eyes as I explode in you.
And I'm close. Growing impossibly. Thrusting again and again, hard and fast.
Your whimpers and moans and nails clawing my back make me wild.
And I come inside you, with you, filling you with my hot seed.
Thrusting until you whimper and I'm completely drained.
I slide out and kiss you deeply.
And tell you to wash me now.
Soap my body.
Run your soft soapy hands around my still hard cock. My throbbing balls. My chest. Shoulders. Back.
You turn and bend to reach for more body wash. And I'm not through with you yet. Your beautiful back and ass have me wild.
I want to see me enter you.
I take your hair and wrap it around my hand, holding you bent over, water pouring over us both.
I slide my free hand between your legs, slip a finger inside, spread you.
And impale you again.
I hear you gasp. And that just makes me more reckless as I crash us together. My free hand goes to your hip, so I can pull you into me by more than just your hair.
Our bodies, crashing together in the hot water, splashing, utterly abandoned.
I feel you tighten again, pulling me inside as our rhythm grows faster, more urgent.
And eyeing our union, hearing your sounds, your breathy gasps and moans has me ready to explode all over again.
I thrust into you deeply and furiously.
Again and again and again.
Until I release in you again, thrusting until you're quivering in my hands, convulsing around my cock.
Draining me of every last drop.
Almost.
Now get on your knees.
Take me in your mouth.
Suck me wet and clean while I take your breasts in my hands and toy with your erect nipples.
As the hot steamy water washes over us both.
Thank you, Cariña. You DO make me wild. Hope David’s tryout is going well and that you are not melting the ice in the arena while reading this ;)
David. I’ve forgotten all about David! I immediately turn my gaze to the ice and see I’ve not missed a thing. The coach is still blathering away, now punctuating his speech with grand hand gestures. Clearly the try-outers are getting antsy. Back again to Alex’s message.
I hope I’ve given you here something of what you were craving. Can't wait to talk to you again when you can. I absolutely ADORE your voice, your breathiness and sighs and laughter. And you do make it hard for me to breathe. You undo me. And I fucking LOVE that. And I love you! Ttys.
I am speechless, so rapt by this man, so utterly mesmerized by him.
7:32pm
Claire Nichole Eden
I have no words
To think you would take the time to do that for me
How selfless you are
How attentive you are
How wicked hot you are!!!!!!!!!!!
You are the ultimate in manhood
Everything about you
You are a gentle
giant
So powerful, yet with such a light touch
7:34pm
Alexander Armstrong
Claire, let me be clear. I'm in love with you. And so I beg of you, please, ALWAYS ask me for more, for anything, for everything. Your gifts of yourself, to me, your voice, your thoughts, your emotions, your passions and your requests, make me the wealthiest man alive. St. Augustine used to pray, “Give what You command, and command what you will.” YOU give me these words I lavish you so happily with. If you knew how every inch of me smiles when I write to you; or how glad my heart is to be graced by your presence, you would understand that your request was the exact opposite of selfish. It was inspiration. You're my muse, Cariña. If honey drips from my pen, or fingers, or mouth it's ONLY because they've known YOU. Ask me for the countless stars. And if I can't lay them at your feet, I'll bring you to them, one by one. So please, please, never feel badly for asking me anything at all. I have no fonder wish than to elevate us together to such heavenly heights of blissful love that Byron and Keats and Shakespeare would beg to be reincarnated, so they could burn their works in shame, knowing they never had a hint of what true love meant, after witnessing us.
I am overcome.
7:37pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Please come to me.....
Please call me to you
Please never let me go
Where that last bit came from, I have no idea. But once a Facebook message has been sent, ouch, there’s no denying you wrote it.
7:39pm
Alexander Armstrong
Cariña, I've got you. I have NO intention of letting you go.
And I have rope, just in case you want me to.
I close my phone, and look back to the ice, smiling.
My glance catches David’s attention and he looks at me and smiles, too. Just then, a puck comes out of nowhere and clocks David on the side of the head. I see him fall in slow-mo and hear someone yelling, “Player down. We have a player down. Clear the ice. There’s blood.”
So endeth the pro hockey career of David Rossellini.
Chapter Twenty-SevenDavid is out of commission, resting at home, and I am playing nursemaid. He’s very low maintenance, and since he’s sleeping most of the time, the place is really quiet. It gives me the opportunity to do some concerted thinking. I am somewhat disgusted with myself for sending such mixed messages to Alex. “Please come to me. Please call me to you. Please never let me go.” “Don’t fall in love with me.” “I don’t want sex outside of marriage...but I don’t foresee getting married...but I really want you.” “Mmmm, tell me more. More!”
Sheesh, pathetic – and unfair, in my estimation. Alex, meanwhile, has no problem with my flip-floppiness. In fact, he seems to be getting a kick out of it. With David around all the time, my phone conversations with Alex have been generic and uneventful. He asks to hear all about David’s tryouts and I am thrilled and proud to share that the coaches said David did incredibly well – that is, till he got walloped. Ah well, he’ll have to remain a hot, successful entrepreneur instead of a toothless, ice-skating thug. Poor dear.
Because of our lack of telephone privacy, Alex has taken to ambushing me with salacious writings as often as possible. The more I protest, the more he writes, and the more wildly he writes. There’s no winning this one.
* * *
With all that’s been going on, I completely forget about Mom. Literally. I neglected to pick her up for dinner the night of David’s fifteen minutes of hockey fame – a fact that she will never let me forget.
I have to tell her about David. The news of his extended stay goes over like a lead zeppelin. At first, she refuses to come to my house ‘while that man is there.’ Then, she changes her tune and decides she needs to meet and vet him. Things go exactly as I expected. Bottom line is women can’t resist David’s considerable charms and my mom is still biologically a woman. So, it took all of maybe three minutes for David to win Mom over. She now giggles and coos and trumps up excuses to have to come visit, treating me like an indentured servant while she’s here, and batting her eyelashes at David. She even dresses up now when she comes over. I called her on it once and she claimed she simply hadn’t had time to change after some fancy outing. Uh huh, I know you, Mom. And I’m not buyin’ it.
Despite my mom’s fascination with David, I’m still expected to be at her beckon call. Basically, I am to stay in the room should they require anything, and speak only when spoken to. Alex is privy to this and delights in the idea of making me wriggle in front of the two of them. Mom has decided that she needs to visit at the crack of dawn today – something about planting flowers before the sun is directly overhead or the moon is in the seventh house or Jupiter aligns with Mars. Whatever she said made little sense, and was merely a thinly veiled ploy to stop by so David can make the breakfast he offered a few days ago. During Mom’s visit this morning, Alex sees fit to send me a little something special for the occasion.
9:04am
Alexander Armstrong
I often remember dreams in vivid detail, but never has my memory been as exact as when I dreamt of you last night, Claire. I dreamt of us, together on a midnight walk in the forest. We strolled in the night along paths familiar to me, until we came to my favorite resting place. It’s little more than a pool of soft, overgrown grass beneath the outstretched limbs of proud, ancient oaks where Nature conspired to let sunshine rain through the canopy. Last night, we rested there together, in a puddle of moonlight bright enough to cast defined shadows in the silver-lit glade. I was stretched out on my back while you rested your head on my chest, one leg draped across my hips, one hand tracing nails, exploring the cords of my body. Alternately we kissed, smiled into one another’s eyes, gazed silently at the crystal night heavens and laughed out of simple joy.
You leaned over me and placed your palm on my cheek, closed your eyes and softly pressed your lips to mine, the beginning of what turned out to be an orgasmically sensual kiss. As our tongues tasted and teased, my hand found the buttons on the front of your sundress and released your breasts, your belly, your loins. My hand discovered, and impatiently tore, your thong aside as you gasped into my open mouth, surprised and wildly excited. I explored your inebriating wetness with my longing fingertips, gently massaging your clit between the base of my fingers. My other hand grasped your breast firmly, giving in to the temptation to pinch your ripe nipple hard; and as we kissed, devouring one another’s hungry mouths, I tasted your tongue as you climaxed, felt your tongue tense and bend as your arms clutched and your torso convulsed on me.
Without saying a word or looking my way, Mom holds up her coffee cup indicating she wants more. Silently, I hop up and refill it, willing my cheeks to unblush should she deign to glance my way.
Our kiss morphed into a deep, intimate, slow reading of mouths. Your hands undressed me as we silently sang our desires with lips, legs, hands and the hot pressure of flesh on naked flesh. Our bodies summoned friction, exploring, craving and relishing every sensually-charged point of contact our heated skin danced into existence. Your hand found my unyielding erection, formidable and eager for your insistent caress, which seemed to draw me closer and closer to your nectar-drenched loins. You shifted your hips, slid upward on me and taunted your engorged clit with the head of my cock, teasing the entrance to your yoni with my manhood and soaking me with your generous lust. And all the while, our mouths reveled in a continuous, eternally slow, erotically delicious kiss.
As you positioned yourself to wrap me fully, to impale yourself with abandon on me, in one sudden and strong motion, I sat upright, lifted you and laid you on your back, taking a commanding position between your knees. Spread before me, glistening in the moonlight, with your bosom drawing deep quick breaths and your eyes pleading, “Take me,” I wrapped my arms beneath your knees, lifting your succulent femininity closer to my mouth. And then I began kissing you a second time, on a second pair of hungry, sugared lips.
I tasted, licked, sucked and devoured you while your orgasming body struggled to writhe, pinned by the unshakable hold of my hands behind your knees. I probed you, fucked you with my tongue until I felt you gush and clench and clench; and heard you mouth in a breathy sigh, “Please.”
“Please Claire, close that window. You want me to catch my death? You only get one mother, you know.”
“Much better. You may go now, Claire.”
I rose, trailing kisses upward across your moist, elegant body until at last, I tasted your tongue and let you suck your own tantalizing elixir from mine. I spread your legs with my knees, slid the shaft of my erection across your pleading, drenched lust, and took you, burying myself within. Slowly, attending to every detail of every fluid plunge of me into you, we gave ourselves completely to one another, lost in perfect, even divine, union. You lifted your hips to meet my thrusts in rhythmic bliss, sometimes meeting roughly, other times with just a soft kiss of skin. And then the tempo of our passion increased, grew and transformed into something raw, primitive, animal.
Our bodies met again and again with rabid, ferocious intensity. You thrust your hips higher, arching your back, offering yourself perfectly to my growing urgency. You clutched my forearms, clawed my back. And lifting your knees, squeezing me with your inner thighs you melted in trembling, silent, breathless rapture, gripping and releasing my impossibly swollen cock with your involuntary spasms. The exquisite sensations of your coming, the feel of you tightening around me, the supple bounce of your breasts, the moans and gasps of wanton sex, brought me to the most intense, transcendent and explosive orgasm I have ever known. I came in powerful, propulsive jets, flooding you. Savoring our lovemaking, we both fell silent, still, except for the rhythmic pulsing of me within your still-contracting loins. I rolled us over, you on top of me, and with your head on my chest, and me brushing your hair with my fingers, we fell asleep under the stars.