Body Wisdom & Uncompromising Portraits

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  When he pulled out, his precious cock was not even limp and my hips were still churning. I’m sure I was primed for something for myself, but Kurt wasn’t ready to give. Instead, he turned around and went to a cabinet where he kept a pack of cigarettes. I watched him knock one from the pack and light it.

  “Isn’t this a classic move?” I said, staring up at him.

  “What’s that?”

  “Extending the satisfaction with a little smoke to fill your lungs.”

  “You gonna be pissed about it?” he asked. He knew I didn’t like him smoking in the house.

  “No.” I shook my head. I was still lying back on the couch with my legs spread wide the way he’d left me. Seeing his expression, I pushed my skirt back down to cover my exposure, and straightened my legs. I watched him move aimlessly about the room, the cigarette smoke following him in his aimless rambling. I’m not sure screwing me on the run did much to take away his grief.

  “You ready for dinner?” he asked.

  “I guess you are,” I said, finally popping up. Pushing my feelings in a holding file, I retreated to the kitchen where I finished making a big salad and heating up leftover chili.

  There was a lot of silence through dinner, a thousand times I bit my tongue, afraid to say what was on my mind, afraid of this moment. It was a big test for our us, being forced to go through a disaster, and somehow I knew our relationship wasn’t going to survive. We were just going through the motions of love and getting along, while we ached for something neither one of us knew how to express or understand. It was all too deep, for something so untested as our brief affair.

  When the dishes were done, I moved back to the lounge outside. Kurt had had a half dozen beers, and was getting another. He looked so tired, I knew he was ready to collapse. I wanted to push him off to bed, but when he wandered out to the garden himself, he had something different in mind.

  He didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

  I watched him eye me for several seconds and then drop to his knees on the patio, where he parted my legs wide. At first, I thought he was going to screw me again, but he lifted my skirt for something else, his mouth quickly finding the pink bud of my clit, his lips covering it. The sucking action immediately sent a quick stabbing pang of passion though my whole lower half. I didn’t realize until that moment how much sexual energy I’d suppressed. All muted and forgotten, even when he fucked me, it was all coming to the surface with lightning speed, and a force that had me rocking my pussy against his face, and whimpers rising into the cool night air.

  He backed away, a silly grin on his face.

  “You’re awfully hot, babe,” he said, before he went back to my aching crotch with his tongue flying. Two fingers probed my cunt, hammering their way inside like a cock. He knew how to pinch and lick, and prod so that I’d be cumming quickly. I suppose he thought if his was quick, mine should be too. But then, it didn’t really matter, I wanted to end it, I wanted an immediate climax, because I was certain that it wouldn’t be the last one this night. He’d have to take me again more slowly so we could both work out a whole lot more of what was burning in us.

  When I came, he was feasting on my sopping pussy, enjoying the fragrance, and the lush feeling that must have been there as my moist, pink flesh burst alive, giving off its natural potent female heat, until the feeling diminished into a warm tingling bath of satisfaction.

  Kurt pulled away from me, and I opened my eyes. I was smiling, trying to restore the bond between us that seemed a little tattered at the moment.

  “Want a cigarette too?” he asked. He sat back in another chair and finished his beer.

  “No, thanks,” I said. He knew my feelings about cigarettes, accommodated me pretty well about them, only occasionally smoking in my presence.

  I was just beginning to feel that there was some normalcy returning to our interaction, when he dropped his bomb in the midst of my blissful state. He knew I wouldn’t be happy.

  “I’m leaving Shelter Bay,” he said.

  I stared at him, thinking I should be shocked, but I wasn’t.

  “Leaving why?” I asked.

  “Why the fuck stay? I have nothing left Jess.”

  “I don’t count?”

  “Of course you count.”

  “But not enough to keep you here?”

  “I want you to go with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Up north.”

  I thought about his proposal, wondering if he really wanted me to go with him, or if he only offered because he knew I’d say no.

  “Is that your answer for everything? Go up north?” I wondered aloud, knowing that the words came out sarcastically.

  “C’mon, Jess, what’s really keeping you here? It can’t be your job.”

  I choose to ignore another indictment of my employment choice. “I like this town, Kurt. It’s got its faults, but I like living here.”

  He shook his head.

  “There are other options,” I said.

  “Sure and what are they? Everything I have is sitting out there in ashes, wet, hot, grimy, sooty ashes. You want me to sift through that for something?”

  “But it’s not everything, Kurt.”

  “Don’t give me that garbage about tangible things not being important to me.”

  “You taught me that garbage,” I said, coming up off the lounge. I walked into the house, I was getting mad.

  He walked in behind me, and stood at my back as I stood at the kitchen sink looking down at the freshly cleaned porcelain. “Once, I was more important to you than money,” I reminded him. “And you were more important to me than my fears. Hasn’t that been a theme song of you and me? What happened?”

  “My life burned to the ground, Jess.” His hands had been at my waist, as if he was planning to comfort me, but he drew them back, apparently something I’d said hit a nerve - an exposed, raw, angry nerve.

  I turned around and stared at him. “How can you be so wise about some things and stupid about others?” I charged.

  “Oooo boy! Aren’t we in a self-righteous snit.” He was glaring at me.

  “I’m not being self-righteous, I’m simply suggesting that you not go running away from your life, though I guess that’s pretty easy for you to do.”

  “Did you ever think that asking me to stay here is as painful a solution as my asking you to leave would be on you?”

  No. I hadn’t considered it, but I didn’t answer his question, I just waited for him to continue.

  “I’m the one that’s hurting here,” he said. “I’m the one that has a right to be selfish, that has every reason to leave this fucking stupid town, that has nothing but you to keep me here.”

  “I’m suggesting that I’m enough,” I said.

  “Talk about tests in a relationship,” he sneered.

  “I’m just asking you to be rational.”

  He backed away, far away, into the living room where I watched him draw back inside himself and think. Because he wasn’t returning to the kitchen where I was standing with my back to the sink, I finally followed him and stood at the doorway, waiting.

  “Jess, I’m going to clear out of here in a couple of days. There’s some insurance stuff that has to be handled and I’m going to have to hire someone to clean up the crap. But once that’s done, I’m gonna split. You can either go with me, or stay here. That’s your choice.” Leaving me with that to ponder, he walked out the front door.

  It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d taken off on the cycle, but other than to ride around, Kurt had nowhere to go. He sat down on the porch, in my rocking chair. And I let him be.

  ***

  I was in kitchen, scrubbing a spaghetti pot, where the sauce had stuck to the bottom and the white enamel pan had turned black, and was vigorously resisting being cleaned. My arm ached rubbing the steel wool over the surface; but some determination in me demanded that every tiny piece of burned on sauce get washed away. It was a rare statement about my state of
mind; on any other day, I’d have been content to let the pot soak overnight.

  The kitchen was dark except for the light overhead. It was dusk on a summer evening, still traces of light lingered at eight-thirty, the smells of a fragrant summer night coming through the window. There were moths darting in erratic bursts outside, and crickets singing one to another.

  I felt him standing in the doorway of the kitchen, but I didn’t look back. I let him watch me, wondering how it must look to him. Several nights before when I was on my patio, I’d heard his motorcycle hummm and shimmy when it stopped. This time, I heard no approach, as if he’d arrived on tiger paws creeping to my back side to lie in wait for me.

  As I waited for him to move on me, I imagined him without his hair back, long and swaying loose. I imagined it falling over his shoulders the way I like it when we made love wildly, and when he’s first out of the shower and its dripping water everywhere. The longer my imagination conjured pictures, the more I wondered if my thoughts were just playing tricks on me. Was he really there, or was he just a phantom, so real in my mind that I’d made him real flesh - like a holographic image out of the Star Trek holodeck. I wouldn’t be able to touch him, really touch him, because he wasn’t real. I wondered for a minute, if this was the way it would be when he was gone.

  I still hoped he wouldn’t be leaving.

  When on tiger feet, in the style of his oriental Tai Chi quiet, he approached me, the shiver that raced from one end of my spine to the other made me jerk.

  “Did I startle you?” he asked, laying a hand on my shoulder. The warm hand steadied me, a gesture I found settling, as often as he used it to calm me.

  “Not really, I knew you were there, it’s just that you’re electric tonight.”

  “You know, you look really good from behind.” His hand drifted down to my bottom, clad in thin running shorts, he caressed me effortlessly, perhaps the silky fabric of the shorts made them more touchable than normal.

  “You been staring at it long?” I asked.

  “A while.”

  “What are you thinking?” I asked, still not turning around, still content to let his hands peruse my backside wherever they wanted to journey. His finger was lifting the bottom of the shorts to play with my naked ass cheeks with a probing finger.

  “I was thinking how I wanted something special tonight,” he said.

  “And why tonight?”

  “I’m especially horny,” he said.

  I let myself lean back against him thinking that all this passion couldn’t be for nothing; he had to have a motive beyond the sex. But I was better off not trying to second guess his thoughts, it was always disastrous when I did.

  I found Kurt’s fingers doing such curious things to me that I was focusing more on them than on my overworked mind. I was glad to give up the dilemma just for this pleasure. Kurt probed deeper than the outer barrier of my ass cheeks, to the place inside, where his teasing fingers were exciting us both.

  “Bend over, Jess,” he ordered me, laying a hand on my back and giving me a steady push. He could assault my ass end easier, part the twin cheeks, and press his fingers even closer to the tight clenched hole where one night weeks before he’d planted his leather-covered fingers. This time, he just massaged, his fingers pressing, but not going beyond the door. I wondered why, until he pulled me up and pushed me to the bedroom. It would be easier on the bed to probe me, where he had total access, and a jar of softening cream, and a place where he could kneel behind me.

  I’d been on hands and knees for him before, but not like this. While I buried my head in the comforter, he buried his in my behind. He was licking me slowly to start, at my pussy, the hole, the clit and all the creases and valleys. In a matter of minutes he had my entire body alive, radiating energy from the sexual center on outward.

  Once content with those stunning results, my sexual now fires matching his in intensity, he was no longer so passive. Running his tongue the entire length of my anal cleft, from my throbbing pussy to my sphincter, he stopped there and rimmed me. The accompanying sensations shot through my loins, igniting me in that other way, that inexplicable way that is too unusual to describe, but impossible not to feel. Adding new dimensions to pleasure, I responded just as I knew I would to his expert tongue, my hips gyrating against his face asking for more.

  Kurt grabbed the jar of cream he used before on me. I knew he was going to probe my ass deeper, but I had a feeling about this time, that I hadn’t had before. He wouldn’t be stopping with two penetrating fingers, though that was exactly where he started.

  Smearing me with the cold stuff, I jolted, and made some nonsense remark about the chill that raced through me. Pressing his fingers like a cock against my rear hole, he soon had them deeply planted, and moving in and out just like a cock. With a few relaxing comments from his lips, I relaxed back, letting myself enjoy the penetration while deep in my thoughts I knew this would be the night I’d get what he’d patiently primed me for.

  I’m not sure when his cock entered my pussy and began fucking me softly, but that too increased the pressure of sensation. My entire body was on fire, split in two with fast flying color-coded passion. There were red hot reds in front of my eyes when he jolted my ass hard with his fingers. A deep, though not painful rush suddenly surprised me.

  I was going deep inside myself, to places I don’t remember being, where I was beyond my own thoughts, thinking I could go anywhere with his hands in charge. The more I submitted to these vile acts, the more I’d submit, and the more I’d forget everything but body pleasure.

  I awoke from the unthinking stupor, just long enough to realize that he had withdrawn his cock from my pussy, and was greasing for the penetration of my ass. More cream at the anus and I felt the prick head poke lightly, and then press hard, moving easily beyond the opening, an half-inch at a time invading deeper into my virgin territory.

  I was inside myself again, forced to relax with it, forced not to think. I let his one hand stroke my upper bottom, as way to ease the tension I was feeling.

  His easy going chant, “relax, relax, Jess, relax,” invaded my mind simultaneously with his the prick. Working together I accepted him to the hilt. He stayed with me unmoving for a second, while I became used to the wild fullness that had me impaled. And then, like any man pleasuring himself, Kurt moved in and out in a steady certain rhythm, fucking me, while I was screaming crazily, making no sense, my ass end like a little heaven and hell, all wrapped together. It was riotous sensation beyond the norms, everything bizarre, and I begged for more, while I wasn’t sure if it wasn’t pain I was feeling. Whatever the sensation, I was orgasmic.

  In full throttle, Kurt reached around to play with my front side. His fingers pinched my clit, and for a little while he popped a small dildo in my cunt so I could be filled in both places. After a time, he dropped the plastic prick, and it quickly slipped out of my cunt, as he began an old fashioned banging. By then, I didn’t have time to think of anything, but bringing him off. I was still too new to rear entry to know what to do for myself, and my body seemed to have all the pleasure it needed for that instant.

  I felt empty when he withdrew, but deeply opened, and intensely grateful. Still so inside myself, in such deep repose, it took Kurt, after he’d recuperated from his climax, to manipulate me to my own climax. This time, it was surprisingly quiet, feeling like a lovely wave dancing through my lower regions, and rising all around me, until, like some entity passing over me, it vanished, and I was left at peace.

  ***

  I woke in the morning, remembering how lovely it was to fall asleep in Kurt’s arms. And we both slept well, crawling under the covers sometime around dawn. But waking, I found Kurt already out of bed, searching the floor of my bedroom for his clothes.

  “What’s happening?” I asked.

  “I’m getting ready to go,” he said.

  “You are?” The reality shocked me.

  “I told you I’d be going when my stuff got handled.”


  “But, Kurt, last night, come on guy, last night . . . .”

  “You’re welcome to ride along,” he said. “Invitation’s still open.”

  “Ride along!” I was suddenly livid.

  Jumping from the bed, naked - though not wanting to be naked and ranting and raving - I grabbed my bathrobe and tied it around my waist with a vengeance. “Tell me, what did you really plan to do? Sneak out in this morning, leave a note? “Nice fuck, Jess. Have a nice life, I’m gone.” Fuck my ass and leave in the morning!”

  He stared at me with vacant eyes. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  “No, I don’t get it.”

  “You really want me to stay around here, and put up with this town? I get the shit kicked out of me, by your fuckin’ ass city fathers, who have just slapped a two thousand dollar lien on my property because of the goddam fire, which another of your proud founding fathers has decided is my fault, you get that? My fault. You think I’m going to stay here to listen to this shit!”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this?” I roared at him, suddenly mad because of all that he’d held back.

  “It’s not important.”

  “Okay, if it’s not important, then maybe I could be important?”

  “You are. But I have to get away from here, and if you can’t let yourself go enough to go along, well . . .”

  He didn’t get mad well, he had a fire in his dark eyes, but it wasn’t the same as some raving maniac kind of anger, that might have been healthier. It was all simmering heat. And that tricked me.

  “You know I think your conclusions are bull shit.” I said, watching the blank look on his face. “I don’t think you’re leaving because of the fire at all.”

  He didn’t even look phased by my remark, but I went on anyway.

  “I think you’re leaving because it’s too hot between you and me. And you can’t handle that.” That statement finally woke him up. A small, almost imperceptible flicker of awareness left him momentarily stunned. He considered what I said, but my assessment of his behavior was different than the way he had everything figured out. Though he wasn’t in the mood to reconsider.