As I have an aversion to creepy people, to even contemplate a creepy person having forced sexual control is completely abhorrent to me. Jonathan had to be gorgeous, had to be clean, be kind, be talented and intelligent, had to be sensitive…and he had to be mentally ill. And Lily had to see all this early on. This is why she feels outrage over fear. I smiled, recognizing another tidbit into my psyche. I’m not a fearful person. I rarely panic, and I’m comfortable and understanding of myself enough to know that, were I Lily, I could escape when opportunity presented itself.
I closed the Word document and absently twirled my hair, lost in thought. There was so much of me in there—even the decorations in Jonathan’s house said much about me. The fact that Lily looks identical to me was rather Freudian too, come to think. I laughed out loud at the thought. It’s funny how our subconscious mind tells us what’s what sometimes. The subconscious mind intuits what the conscious mind misses at first glance. Yes, the phone sex story was a whim, and who would have thought six years later, it would help me find my way back to myself? I wished in that moment my pen pal stood right here so I could say thank you. I’d thank him for lighting the match that eventually relit the candle of my self-confidence. I’d kiss him for real.
I pressed my fingers to my lips, imagining this curious and compelling green-eyed, chestnut-haired, large-handed, well-endowed man kissing me. And unbelievably, my panties got soaking wet. I flexed my fingers and crafted a scene from the sizzling phantom fire playing over my lips.
Having experienced amazing kisses in my life added just enough realism to the blend of movie kisses. I told the screen, “So, you want a kiss, eh? Then what will you think of this?”
S,
There is so much more to kissing for the first time than meets the eye. The would-be lovers laugh and smile and delight in each other’s company. They talk, getting to know each other, trying to find the choicest morsels of their life and personality to share. They might hold hands for hours as they wander here and there. And when they sit side by side, perhaps on a bench at a museum, they’ll look in feigned interest at the passersby, glance again and again at the exhibit, but not really seeing it. First, one will turn inward, the movement slight, barely noticeable. And then with no clear knowledge of doing so, the one will magically mirror the other. Their knees may touch, and one set of clasped hands might rest innocently upon a knee.
And then a noise, a temporary distraction, might take their attention for a second, and both heads will turn to the sound, inadvertently closer now than before. When one turns back, their faces will be mere inches apart. Their eyes, green and gray, will hold each other’s gazes, darting from one sparkling pupil to the other. They might unfocus to drink in the entire face for a second, perhaps lingering on the person’s smile before meeting the gaze once more, a gaze noticeably warmer than a moment ago.
One face may turn a little, and in mirrored image, the other follows, only slightly tipped in the opposite direction. And the eyes ask the silent question as two thoughts become superimposed—“May I kiss you?”-“Will you kiss me?” The answer is subtle, missed by nearly everyone passing by, everyone save the smiling elder couple holding gnarled hands and assisted by their canes. Perhaps they, too, once shared a kiss sitting there, or plan to again later. But locked in their own world, they don’t notice the elder pair walk by.
They are aware now only of each other, aware of little things, the flush on her cheeks, the gleam in his eye, the color of her moist lips, the imperceptible flare of his nostrils as he subconsciously reminds his body to breathe. They touch now. The kiss is at first soft, the lips asking permission for the firmness they crave. Another kiss grants this and another and another as faces turn to fit around chins and cheeks and noses. And then loose and pliable, those lips part now to make way for tentative tongues. These too begin their searching, gently at first then becoming bolder as they instinctively react to the warmth of each other’s mouths and thrust as hands cup cheeks and arms wind around shoulders, drawing each other ever inward into the private space that shuts the waking world out and lets the dream begin.
V
Little did I realize when I began this kissing scene that I would abandon the amalgamated movie kisses. I stopped and read those words, my words, my kiss. That kiss had been real, as had the love behind it. My eyes filled with tears, but I sent it on. Feeling alone, I rose from my chair and walked away.
* * * *
The next morning there were dozens of legitimate emails waiting for me amid the pile of crap I normally got each day. It wasn’t like me to leave my email program running all night, so it was sort of a surprise to see so many at once. It was Saturday. I had nowhere to go and had only the usual weekend tasks to see to before Monday came rolling around again. Sometime in the mid-afternoon after my groceries were put away and a week’s worth of lunches had been made, I sat down at my computer and took a moment to clear the spam and download another spam chaser with a tighter net for catching those intrusive things. I answered a few emails from friends and saved his for last.
V,
That was extraordinary. I could see your gray eyes, see them dart from one to the other of my own as our faces drew close. That was perfection, dearest V. I could almost feel you upon my lips. And now to kiss you in return, a second kiss…
Feeling breathless, we rose hand in hand from our bench and walked mere blocks away to my apartment. Once inside the door, our eyes locked again, our faces drawing closer, closer. Your lips are parted, your lovely breasts rise and fall, your body waits. My hand rises to brush your autumn-colored hair back from your face. Our kiss from before still lingers, but we need so much more from each other now. And we take it. Just how, I will leave to you.
S
Somehow this stranger, this S... Ssss. I rolled the single syllable over my tongue like the end of a snake’s hiss. This sensual conjurer from the shadows was an alliteration. I saw the poetry of him, and every word began with S, a shadowed, sexy, sensual stranger, S.
I had no clear true picture of him, so once more my mind, armed as it was with a small basket of his self-descriptive words, extrapolated. He was a beautiful male of course, with his fern-green eyes, his swarthy skin, and his shining chestnut hair. The image my mind created surprised me, and in self-preservation, I shook my embellishment aside.
He had only said green eyes, dark skin, and chestnut hair. No, my mind replied, see him clearly...shining brown, fern green, swarthy…no, I amended. Not swarthy...more...more...sun-kissed, bronzed. I thought on this a while. Though I initially wished it otherwise, in the end I could find nothing wrong with the enhanced image my mind was compelled to assemble from the recesses of memory. My smile widened as I gave myself permission to live this dream. And with my dream view filling in the blanks of the mysterious S, my fingers found the keys.
S,
You stand with your back to the door, facing me. Your large hand brushes my hair back yet lingers upon my cheek once the deed is done. It slowly moves past my ear to the back of my head and gently and purposefully pulls my face closer. Your eyes lock to my lips and mine to yours, both pairs soft, moist, beckoning. They meet again, less tentative, more sure of the yearning behind them. Soft but a moment before, the fingers on the hand at the back of my head curl into my red-gold hair in a grip that clearly says this kiss will continue. And it does.
And when the lips have had their fill for now, they leave to burn a scorching swath down my neck and back along my jaw, accentuated by the stubble of your beard. We realize clothing is a hindrance. Panting, we pull apart, eyes speaking at once, “Please make love to me. If I don’t have you, I’ll burn alive.” I nod breathlessly. The small acquiescent gesture fires your blood. You grab me hard and pull me roughly against you, your mouth slanting over mine, your tongue conquering any reserve I might have.
V
I pressed my fingertips to my lips. I hadn’t been kissed, but my brain had, and the brain told me it was real enough by the tingling I actua
lly felt there.
That he didn’t answer right away was disappointing. Then my eye caught sight of the tiny envelope instantly appearing in my small mailbox icon. Momentarily confused by the lack of sound, I suddenly remembered the robotic “Warning!” alert that my new anti-spam program screamed when it found spyware. It had annoyed me so much I turned the speakers off. Wanting as many senses involved as possible in this curious relationship, I turned them back on. With my finger still on the dial, I nearly jumped out of my skin, the words instantly shouted over the speaker, “…ve-got-mail!” I had forgotten to adjust them.
Oh, Temptress V,
Not nearly complete enough. We stand locked in a fierce embrace, kisses devouring. Recall the clothing in the way of scorching lips. Remove them. What do our bodies feel once you’ve tossed them aside?
S
I remembered the sound of buttons flying across the floor and hitting the window and the sound of a metal belt buckle hitting the floor. They were harmless memories. I chose to use them.
S,
Somewhere in the distance shoes are kicked aside, and a belt buckle drops to the floor with a metallic clatter. We twist and writhe out of clothing gone suddenly too tight to be left where they are. Buttons go flying and stitches rend. One hits the window glass. Suddenly, you grasp my upper arms and slam my back against the wooden door to take your place exactly where you stood a moment before. You press your body against mine. You have a light covering of dark hair across your chest, and it teases my bare breasts. Feel me?
V
I was panting now, reliving a memory. I could almost feel the hard wood, the doorknob bruising me to one side just above the hollow of my back. His answer was instantaneous, and the fact he sat there as I did thrilled me.
Sorceress V,
I feel your words. They conjure heady images out of the fog. Give me more.
S
I narrowed my eyes at the screen, feeling cheated somehow. I said the words aloud to the computer. “All right, S, you want more? Whaddaya think of this?”
S,
Your body glides along mine as your head dips to suckle my breasts. Your hands fill to overflowing with the soft creamy flesh. Your chin is rough. The stubble of a devil-may-care beard rasps against me, and my nipples, once so pale pink, become roses in full bloom. Your mouth closes over one then the other, sucking, drawing deeply into the heat of your mouth. But there is more... One hand roams over my side, over my hip to circle my belly and down to brush knuckles first over the short red-gold fleece. Wordlessly willed to do so, my thighs part ever so slightly. Your fingers brush up and down. Your mouth returns to claim a kiss. My hand seeks you out, curling around the fullness of your large hard cock. The head is wet against my thigh. You like kissing me.
V
The reply came fast.
Sensual V,
I very much enjoy it. But there is more of you to kiss, my sweet. Your rose-blush nipples are succulent, yes, and I return again and again between ardent kisses to feast upon their delicious plumpness. I’m hungry, V. Part your lissome thighs for me. I’m on my knees now, my eyes looking upward past belly and heaving breasts. Yes, I know you are as breathless as I. My large hands sweep upward over the front of your thighs, thumbs meeting in the center to pry soft, silky rose petals apart to find the flint-hard nub there. Feel me trace your clit with the tip of my tongue, wet circles, V, slow, firm, delightful circles. And once your clit stands hard, I’ll draw this tiny corresponding bit into my mouth and suck, and I know, within moments, you will offer the same to me. But we are by no means done for the day. Suck my cock, V. Take me into your luscious mouth. Suck me.
S
Oh my god. I slid my hand inside the waistband of my drawstring pants. I was slippery wet, pulsingly aroused and ready...oh so fucking ready. I couldn’t take much more of this. I’d burst into flames.
S,
I hold your head with both hands and lightly pull you away from your most intimate kiss. You rise, your mouth finds mine, and I taste me upon your lips, your kisses seasoned with my scent and wetness. The taste is heady, wanton. But now it’s my turn. I gracefully lower to my knees and look up at you. You’re breathing hard, but that’s not all that is hard. In fact, I am in awe. Your cock is shining, the head thick like burnished bronze. The skin is stretched so taut in your arousal that the veins stand out like knotted cords.
I kiss your balls first, my lips pressing into the soft velvet, first one, then the other, and I nuzzle you, breathing in your hot male scent. Only then do I climb with lips, tongue, and teeth along the full length of you. My warm lips part slightly, and my gray eyes lock to yours of fern green. Fingers curling around you, they slowly, firmly, exactingly pump you until your quicksilver heat begins to show. I’ll paint my lips then, gliding your cock like a lipstick around and around my mouth to form a delicate O.
And when I open wider, your huge, thick rim gives us both a soft popping sensation. Only now do I draw you in, my heat inflaming you further, my breath hot against the crisp curls at your base. Feel me now?
V
Apparently I held my breath waiting, for when the reply came I gasped.
Amazing seductress V,
Oh, yes, I feel you. I wind my fists into the full twenty inches of red-gold silk and hold you there, afraid the exquisite dream will end. Now go, lovely one. I know your body throbs as mine does. No vibrator this time, V. Be my fingers...explore and thrill yourself as I would were I beside you. Moisten your fingertips and imagine my tongue plying your flesh. Go, find your release then return to tell me, using every detail. Your words have made it impossible for me not do the same.
S
I didn’t even close the email. I yanked down my pants and leaned back in my chair. I was soaking wet, the room filled with the aroused scent of me. I did as he suggested, not bothering to moisten my fingertips as I was already primed. I twirled my fingers for only a few seconds. That was all I needed. My climax was shattering.
When I came down off the chandelier, I wrote it out.
S,
That was marvelous, thank you. The scene we created together was scrumptiously hot. I was so dripping wet I had no need to wet my fingers and never left my chair but worked my clit here, worked it like I was possessed. And maybe I was. LOL I think you’ve insinuated yourself fully into my imagination. I look forward to our next art project. :)
V
Incredible V,
I agree, a most enjoyable way to spend 3:00 on a Saturday. Yes, I too was ready and only stroked a little before I literally exploded. Thank you. It was wonderful to share that. Tell me...do you see us treating each other at once? Your mouth on my cock and balls was amazing. I’d love to lick your lovely rose-blush pussy at the same time. Do you see the image these words evoke? Write it for me, fiery one. Climb on top of me.
S
Three o’clock? I looked at the small clock icon at the bottom of my task bar. 3:00. He lived in the same time zone as I. I felt a rush of warmth run over me at the thought he was near, even though near in a time zone could mean next door or hundreds of miles apart. I saw Mr. Weston in my mind’s eye. My rotund neighbor on the right wore Bermuda shorts and socks with sandals when he trimmed his hedges. Mr. Blumfeld on the other side of my house was a cadaver of a man who routinely patrolled the sidewalk with a spray can of RAID looking for ants to kill. Nice enough men really, but the thought they might be online right now sharing these intimate words wrinkled my nose and gave me a sensation in my stomach like I’d just downed a cup of canola oil. Pushing that unwanted imagery aside, I went back to my own fantasy of how S looked when he sat stroking his cock over my words.
I licked my lips, envisioning the sensual act he asked for. He asked me to write a scene for mutual oral sex, one of my personal favorites back in the day. I thought of my first time. On the whole it had been a time of many firsts. My mind grew wistful remembering when my heart, mind, and body had made love to another. Then I thought of Dan.
We had s
ex and some laughs, but I realized something last night. The kiss I wrote out was what I wanted, but I’d never had that with Dan. Suddenly the pigeon that had been pigeonholed flew past my mind’s eye, and a smile came out of the pensive thought. I no longer cared about Dan. After eleven months and so many days of low self-esteem, I allowed myself peace. Feeling free, I said to the cosmos, “Go, Dan, go enjoy your life. I hope you eventually find happiness.” It surprised me because I meant it.
I thought about this stranger who had become my lover in the ether. Talking intimately seemed to make things go so fast. No way would we strike up such intimate conversations this quickly if we were face to face. I smiled realizing there was a part of me that would like to… The image of my belly pressed to his in mutual pursuit of oral fulfillment actually made my heart flutter. The serpent of kundalini energy rising from my sex curled into Ouroboros to become a regenerating circle. I had found myself again.
* * * *
Thunderstorms rolled on and off that entire Sunday. I spent two hours in the late afternoon without power, feeling as agitated as a junkie needing a fix. I threw myself into cleaning my semi-dark house and organizing papers for the week by candlelight. By 8:00 that night the power was back on, but my server was down. Frustrated, I gave up on any more emails and watched a movie instead. The whole time wondering what S was up to and if he was thinking about my words as I thought about his. I found I had so much more to say!
Hermes Online (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 4