I know what she is seeing and am confident under her gaze. I know I am on the higher end of the scale on attractiveness. I am curvaceous with a lot of feminine curves gently flowing out. There is no fat on me, though. I have a flat stomach, slim arms and perfectly proportioned legs. My skin is fair, though not milky. I look soft and my skin is soft. It is her expression of gazing at a miracle that makes me blush. It makes me melt.
Beth’s breath quickens as she drinks me in. I hold her hand and place it on my breast.
My breasts have always been super-sensitive and with Beth they seem to have tripled in their sensitivity.
She caresses my breasts and then squeezes them. She teases the nipples, pinches them ever so slightly. I get goosebumps on my breasts and arch into her hands, moaning. She realises how much I love my breasts being pinched, tweaked and pulls and does that more firmly than before. I cry out in pleasure.
She bends down and takes one breast into her mouth and I could come right then. In fact, I may have because I can feel my panties getting wet.
She lavishes attention on my breasts like they are something precious. She is squeezing, kneading, pinching, pulling, kissing, licking, biting, sucking. My pussy is weeping with happiness and craving attention too. No one has ever worshipped my breasts like she is doing right now and I could just die with ecstasy in this moment. I am writhing and squirming. Whimpering and moaning.
She licks and kisses down my quivering abdomen pausing to nip it at times. Her hands are running along my sides, her blunt fingernails leave goosebumps in their wake. She licks and nips along the waistband of my panties and I make sounds that are whimpers and small screams.
She hooks her fingers into the sides of my panties and I am more than ready to get them off. I raise my hips to indicate my urgency.
Beth draws my drenched panties down my thighs slowly. I am frustrated by the slowness and use my legs to kick them off. She runs the tips of her fingers through my bush and my hips jerk upwards.
“Bethy…” I moan her name, pleading. She draws her finger along my slit, not yet parting my swollen lips. I spread my legs further to open myself.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” she whispers, at last touching me inside my parted lips. She draws a line from my opening to my clit and I quiver inside.
She slides up beside me and starts kissing my neck, my jaws, my ears, my face, my lips while her fingers do amazing things in my pussy. They are rubbing, swirling, dipping, circling…I don’t even know what all is happening but it all has me shaking and trembling.
I have always been quiet in bed, but with Beth I am anything but quiet. I do not believe all the sounds that are escaping from me. I am thrashing and twisting around like a wild thing. She holds me in place with a strong arm so that her hand remains in my cunt creating its magic.
She slips one finger inside me and I am undone. Waves after waves flow through my body and my pussy clenches rhythmically.
“More,” I gasp. And she starts pumping into me in earnest, her thumb rubbing my clit…the waves in me don’t stop. My hips are moving with uncontrolled abandon.
I am calling out loudly…and Beth keeps fucking me…and suddenly I am unravelling. I am screaming and arching. I see a zillion stars exploding…and after an eternity of becoming a part of the primal hidden magic created by her dexterous sorcery, I fall back limply into bed.
******
When I catch my breath and am completely back, my limbs feel heavy but boneless. Beth is holding me close and her hand is still in my cunt. Her fingers are lazily swirling patterns, drawing wet lines, circling my opening and just inside my opening.
Unbelievably, I am ready and raring to go again.
She looks at me with boundless emotion in her eyes. “You’re okay?” she asks.
I roll over partly on her and kiss her passionately. Her fingers start moving in me more purposefully and my hips are jerking.
She rolls me back on my back and kisses down my throat, between my breasts, down my abdomen…till she reaches between my legs.
She parts my thighs and nuzzles me, making me call out softly.
She looks up into my hooded eyes which must be sultry as hell right now, and then bends down.
Something about her look, about her expression makes me want to know… “How long have you been wanting to do this, Beth?”
“Twenty years,” she responds and buries her face between my thighs.
She doesn’t stop till I’m hoarse with screaming and am weakly trying to pull her up.
******
When I get up the next morning, Beth has left a note. Something about a power outage in her building and asking me to call when I get up.
She addresses the note to ‘Princess’ and ends with multiple ‘X’s.
I smile and stretch in the throes of languid afterglow.
I don’t know what I had expected but nothing I could ever imagine would have prepared me for last night. I honestly had no idea that it could be like that. Don’t get me wrong…I like sex. Hell! I love sex. It’s just that I don’t seem to have a lot of experience with it.
Strange as it may seem, I have never ‘pleasured’ myself. That’s right…I’ve never masturbated. Okay, so I do the pillow thing for masturbation but touching myself has never done anything for me. So I don’t know what I like and what gets me off.
I have had sex with two men…my bastard ex-husband and that oaf fiancé. Rick hated going down on me so that never happened between us. David was willing for cunnilingus when he wanted me to perform fellatio and that whole transactional thing was just so sickening. Not that he knew how to eat me…a few cursory, desultory licks and he’d be done.
However, I did enjoy the fucking with both of them. The whole being filled up and banged was great. But, I must admit, there weren’t many orgasms for me. I didn’t even know I had so many orgasms in me.
Well, last night proved I am multi-orgasmic. Multi-multi.
Last night also turned everything I knew about sex around on its head. I don’t only love sex now…I love it multiplied by infinity and can’t get enough.
******************************************
Picture to Burn
“Betha, when are you back from the conference?” I ask from the kitchen.
It is Friday evening and I’m making dinner for us. I’m going with stir-fried vegetables and hakka noodles. In a happy coincidence, we are both vegetarians.
It’s been a month since that incredible night and it has only got better since then. We have a holy hell sex life that has me thrumming all the time.
I think I have been constantly wet since that night.
I am living in a lewd smutty place and Beth makes all my risqué fantasies real.
Every night with her is wildly steamy. She does deliciously dirty things to me which have me sizzling, shaking and squealing frenziedly…begging for more.
Beth, it turns out, is good only for one orgasm at a time. Her erogenous zones are few…ears, the nape of her neck (that’s the biggest one for her), upper back, sides.
Now I on the other hand…my whole body is an erogenous zone. I think even when she touches the tips of my hair, I am turned on. Damn! If she even as much as looks at me in certain ways, I am turned on. Her calling my name or calling me ‘princess’ (as she seems to prefer…and I love it) turns me on. There have even been times when I have come in my office just thinking about things she does to me…and God! The things she does to me!
Being finger-fucked is her thing. She doesn’t enjoy oral very much. I, however, love the taste of her and do go down every once in a while. But I know that doesn’t make her come. I can bring her to a point with my mouth, but I have to hold her close and use my fingers to really unravel her. She likes to be held and be holding on to me while being fucked. I do my best to make it good for her. I want her to feel the same things that she makes me feel and the bliss that I see on her face post her gorgeous rapture says that I am on the right path.
I
wish I could change her physiology so that she can also experience multi-multi orgasms like me…but she is completely happy with her one-at-a-time.
Beth’s one-hit-wonder satisfaction doesn’t make her any less into sex than me. Oh no! She enjoys having sex and it is abundantly clear she trips out on doing filthy things to me for hours at an end. Which is beyond perfect. Because while Betha is a one-night-one-ride cowboy, sexually I am the complete opposite.
Luckily for me, while her sexual needs are way lower than mine, her appetite to fuck me matches mine to be fucked…and my libido, which it turns out, is approximately the size of the Andromeda galaxy…roughly…maybe it is a little bigger.
It is like I have just discovered sex (and I actually feel I just have).
I love fingers, mouth, lips, tongue, thigh, rubbing, grinding…everything. Incredibly I am insatiably multi-multi orgasmic.
I hit screaming peaks, I arch to rigidness, I drown in waves, I squirt, I even ejaculate…hitting a combination of many of these in a single night.
I have small orgasms that build to a roaring peak. I have orgasms that flood into more and those that drain me leaving me exhausted and falling to a coma-like sleep.
There are times when big ones follow one another and days when I have a million continuous ones. I sometimes gush like the Niagara and sometimes flow out long and continuous like the Nile.
Since our first time together, I have been walking around on wobbly legs with a soreness between my thighs that demands more each day. It is a wonder to me that I am still going to work each day and that I am functional. I am fairly certain that Beth is the same way as I am. In fact, we can remove ‘fairly certain’ from the equation…I know she is. She jumps me as soon as we are indoors every single time we meet. I virtually have to peel her off me every morning in bed. She has me at the door just before we leave for work and I physically have to drag her out of me each morning at the door. We have never made it beyond two steps into the door in the evenings before she is inside me.
“Sunday night,” she says looking up from her laptop.
She attends a lot of the nerd-geek conferences and workshops so that she is abreast of everything happening in that world. She is cutting-edge…in fact, a thought-leader, and she doesn’t intend losing that that lead anytime soon. Her drive, passion and knowledge are such a turn on. Oh! Okay…there seems to be a theme here about what turns me on about her…apparently everything.
“Will it be late when you get back?”
“The conference ends at five and I’ll be out immediately. I should be here by seven-thirty latest. What’s up, princess?”
“I just got a text from jerkface David…her wants to ‘pop-in for a few’ on Sunday to ‘pick-up’ his things,” I’m not doing a great job of keeping anger, disgust and more anger out of my voice. Though, logically, with the way things have worked out, I shouldn’t be angry with him. I should be thanking him. Profusely and repeatedly. I should be sending him thank you gifts every day.
“You want me to cancel?” Beth is always, always there for me in any which way I want or need. I am so lucky.
“No, honey…I’m just being a baby. The possibility of me killing him is also gone by now,” I smile at her.
“Maybe I can skip Sunday at the conference and come back tomorrow itself.”
“Don’t be crazy, Bethy. As it is, you’re leaving at some ungodly hour tomorrow so that we can be together tonight. I wouldn’t make you drive eight or nine hours in one day with only a couple of hours of sleep just so that you can pat my head and hold my hand. I can manage an asshole for five minutes, I promise.”
I hope she is reassured because I wouldn’t put it past her to still cut short the conference. My adorable, overprotective lover wouldn’t let a cold breeze (if it makes me shiver) touch me if she could somehow manage that.
The wonderful thing is that she doesn’t suffocate me. She can actually hear me. The feeling of being heard and being taken care of is beautiful. The feeling of being totally your own person, totally independent but always, always have someone who’s got your back is just awesome. The feeling of being an adult with a soft, safe spot to snuggle into is the best feeling in the world. Protected, believed-in, respected…she gives me so much.
She grunts a reply and goes back to reading whatever she is reading. I serve dinner and call her over.
“So, I’m getting only a couple of hours of sleep tonight?” she asks coming towards the dining area, eyes dancing.
I step around the island to her where she is standing, put my arms around her waist and press myself into her. “Yeah, you know…you’re going away for almost forty hours…you need to make up for that before you go and after you come back,” I nuzzle her neck as she puts her arms around me and pulls me closer. I’m like a horny fourteen-year old boy on hormonal steroids.
She gives me a quickie before we eat…and the food has to be reheated.
******
Beth has left for her conference and I am feeling all out-of-sorts. I know I won’t be hearing from her till night.
It is Saturday and I actually don’t know what to do with myself. I mean, I do know what I can do, what I should do and what I ought to do…but I am feeling kinda rudderless.
I can’t believe how much I am already missing her…and it’s been just a few hours since she left at the butt crack of dawn.
We seem to have got so completely intertwined already. Even when I was married, it wasn’t like this. Rick and I had a lot of individual me-time. Also, I don’t think anyone I have ever known (romantically or otherwise) has been so endlessly interesting to me. I just can’t get enough of her…and this time, I don’t mean just sexually…though there is that too.
Intellectually, I know it’s not really true, but I feel I can’t function without her.
Being with Beth gives me reason to be. She has made me alive.
It is only now that I know that I was just going through motions my whole life. I wasn’t really living. Now, I feel I am experiencing life with all my five senses. I am touching it, tasting it, seeing it, hearing it and smelling it. I am submerged into it on all dimensions – physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual. Every fibre of my being…every nerve…every capillary…every atom is alive.
And the best part is that being on this high of happy because of her has made me more productive at work. I am on fire at work. I am fast, completely error-free and my analyses are being talked about by clients and colleagues. I am suddenly on the top of the heap with the choicest clients and most challenging projects landing in my inbox. I’m getting the work that I would once have given my eyeteeth for.
So here I am missing Beth. I am mooning over her. Submerged in her thoughts. Flooded with all things Beth. Awash with memories…memories of conversations…memories of what Beth looks like in various moods…memories of nights…Oh! Those nights…
I am so totally mooning over her like a teenager having their first crush that it would be embarrassing were it not so exhilarating.
******
I realise I am moping around like an abandoned puppy so I decide to put all of Slimeball David’s stuff into a box and keep it by the door so that I can kick it out when he comes. I start collecting his things and throwing them into a cardboard box.
Out of nowhere I am hit by a loathing for him. Not only for dumping me so callously…but for all the times he talked down at me, curbed my enthusiasm, broke my spirit, made me feel inadequate and inefficient, controlled me, lay his expectation on what I should be.
I pick a pair of scissors and destroy every item of his kit. I stomp to the closet and pull out his clothes. I march to the kitchen, get the biggest knife I have and slash through all his clothes. I take great pleasure in doing that to his beloved leather jacket. He has two pairs of shoes and one pair of sneakers here. High-end branded ones. I don’t spare them either. I tape up the box with a feeling of satisfaction…a feeling of a job well done.
I am done with David’s stuff in
under an hour and feel at loose ends again.
I put on a movie but find it no fun without Beth and her sometimes witty, sometimes snarky, sometimes absurd…but always funny remarks. I miss cuddling into her while watching a movie.
I decide to fix myself something to eat…I’ve skipped breakfast and lunch without realising. I rack my brains about what to eat and find myself thinking of what Beth would like. I finally settle down on a cheese sandwich, with lots and lots and lots of cheese…just the way Beth likes. Oh! My! God!
Everything is Beth to me. Every moment, every movement, every thought is Beth.
It is like we have merged together completely. I used to think that the whole ‘two become one’ business was a romantic notion in songs. But it is true. And what is also true that when two become one, they do not lose their individual identities. They become stronger individually because of the strength of couple hood. It is indescribable. I never thought about it leave alone expected to experience it.
Begin Again Page 4