I don’t know if posting this story is a good idea. I almost feel like an exhibitionist. I wrote this about a year ago, and sent it to my husband when he had to leave us again after an all-to-quick visit. He told me he read it often, remembering this night, because it was so special to both of us. (Although in typical male fashion he thought there should have been more dirty words.) And, indeed, the papers were well worn when I dug them out of the filing case. Just reading it now, as I debate whether I should type it in and post it, makes me feel very raw. It’s funny how emotions can feel fresh even after so much time has passed. Although he is away for a week at the moment and I miss him terribly, he’s done with such lengthy trips. But every once in a while I get mired in the loss I felt when he had to leave me for so long. The night we had together was so beautiful and so…ours and I love him so much--- I’m not sure how I feel about sharing. But that is what Pixies is all about, I guess, so I hope you enjoy it. I think I’ll call it “Thank You.”
Finally, finally, you are home. You’ve been away so long, nearly a year; it felt like a lifetime. The children have changed in your absence. So have I. So have you. None of that matters, though. I feel so lucky to have you back again. Safe. Here. With us.
Thank you.
As I unpack your gear in our room, I watch you through the window, playing in the yard with our children. The sky is blazing, an unbelievable blue. The shimmering summer sun casts dapples of light through the trees. For the smallest instant they are something more than just rippling lights on the lawn. They flare with a sudden and brilliant clarity, exposing this random second onto a transcendent tintype; all that I live for sketched into the blink of an eye. I know I feel such bliss because you’re here, but the picture is also a gift; I have just been granted a fleeting glimpse of Elysia. It’s such a sublime moment. A perfect picture of why. Why be. Why try or risk or reach. How, when I have this, can anything else even signify?
It lasts barely a second. Turning from the window, the sense of hyper-reality dissolves as the children’s giddy laughter floats up to me. Still, I am left feeling half-drowned by a tidal wave of love for you. And the sure knowledge that without you, I could never feel as truly complete as I do because of you.
My lover and friend, my mentor and champion. If I feel I can fly it is only because I am tethered to you.
Thank you.
The day has shifted to night. As we ready for bed with a full moon shining outside the windows, I try to tell you of the crushing emotions that held me, the whisper of otherworldly wisdom I heard. The right words escape me with frustrating inadequacy. Someday, I’ll try to find them. Right now, it’s impossible to define and it's foolish to persist; I feel too impatient for you. It’s been so many months since I held you last. I can tell you with my body what my mind cannot express. And it would mean so much more.
I am kneeling on the bed and you stand before me. Holding your hands to your sides, I lean forward and whisper: I’m going to kiss you now; please just let me taste you; I am shaking with the need to taste you; I have dreamed of your mouth, tranquil beneath mine; part your lips and give me this chance to finally sate the hunger that has gnawed at my soul for so long. I place my mouth to yours. Dry and warm, your lips slowly yield to the soft pressure. You open a bit more and I suckle your bottom lip, pulling it between my teeth. My tongue slides inside to flick for a moment against yours. It slides over the top, tickling the roof of your mouth. I stroke along the inside of your cheek and slip out again to wet your lips. Don’t kiss me back. The hard tip of my tongue laves the soft crease then slithers inside, grazing the sharp edges of your front teeth and then deeper to explore the blunt corners of the back. I lick along the rows, stopping to delve into each tiny cleft. It’s a heady thrill to have such limitless entry to your mouth. I dip into every hollow, prod every tiny bump, until I have sampled every stretch of wet skin, every solid plane, and the taste of you dissolves onto my tongue.
Thank you.
I press open-mouthed kisses along the sharp angle of your jaw, the strong bone above your eyes. I feather my tongue along your eyelashes and you close them. I kiss these, too. My hands caress your neck and I feel the pulse that beats there. I lightly brush my fingertips over the sensitive flesh and your blood pumps faster. I lay my lips upon it and it pushes against my mouth in a sensuous rhythm. I remember that spot, the spot, just behind your ear and nuzzle it with the tip of my nose. I breathe deeply and the air that rushes across your skin sends shivers down your spine. For the first time in a long while, I inhale your body’s fragrance; like sea air and bitter herbs, and my mouth waters. I slide the tip of my tongue out and moisten the skin. I become captivated with the suggestive way I can probe and lick the tiny hollow.
I climb to the floor and undress you slowly, following my hands with my mouth. Kissing open your shirt, I slide it of your shoulders. The strong muscles flex and I ease them with long licks. Encircling as much of your arms as I can, I stroke downward until my fingertips touch together above your wrists. I pull the cuffs free and your shirt falls. I wrap my arms about your waist and press my ear to your heart, listening for a moment. My hair tickles across your stomach as I turn my head to kiss your chest and scrape your nipple with my teeth. Moving higher, I bite your collar bone then sooth the marks with my tongue. I stand on tiptoe so I can nip the strained tendons in your neck and draw the flesh between my lips with enough pull to leave my mark.
Thank you.
My hands wander your back to your waistline. I slip my long fingers inside and rub the creases left by the elastic band of your boxers. I slide my hands to the front and open your pants. The sound of your zipper opening in the silence of the room is the most exquisitely erotic sound and I feel of a heavy rush of heat between my legs. I ease your pants past your hips and they catch around your knees. The swelling shape of your erection is draped in slippery silk. With the material of your boxers between us I gently trap the narrow ridge on the underside of your cock between my fingertips and pull slowly up; then push slowly down.
Teasing your cock with one hand, I pull your head close with the other and you push your tongue into my open mouth. Fastening your lips to mine, you invade my mouth with a force and rhythm that mimic a frenzied coupling. You slow the wild aggression, pulling slightly back to lick at my lips and teeth. I watch though slitted eyes as your tongue dips inside. Flicks across my lips. You know I love watching you kiss me. You angle your head so I can still see as your tongue stretches longer, to lick further, caressing the insides of my cheeks. The view is achingly, slowly suggestive, urging another hot ache to grip my loins and I feel wetness spreading onto the apex of my thighs. I squeeze the muscles together trying to intensify the pleasure and you take my lower lip between your teeth, sucking. You draw the blood to the surface, swirling your tongue, suckling in an insinuating imitation of sex, manipulating and tantalizing the sensitive nerves. I am lost when you wrap my hair around your hand and force my head back, brutally fixing your mouth on my neck. The hand I have been stroking you with suddenly wraps around your shaft, squeezing in tandem to a delicious series of pulses that throb just inside my slick cleft, flexing my swollen clit. You’ve always been able to do that; bring me to these half-formed orgasms without ever touching me…especially when I am captured by such intense desire.
Thank you.
You are intoxicated and aroused by your power over me and I feel a warm liquid seep into the silk in my hand. I am compelled to taste the thick drops I know have pearled on the tip of your erection. I untangle your hand from my hair so I can kneel before you. Stretching out the front of your boxers, I free you. Because I know that you are extremely sensitive here, I gingerly dip into the slit at the top. The hot skin sears my tongue. Saliva pools in my mouth when I taste you, some of it trickling onto your shaft, cooling there. I mouth only the tip, tracing the head around and around, careful not to bump you with my teeth. You watch me love you, opening my throat to take all of you. My hands find and grasp the heavy sac between your legs. I ride on my knees to lever my body up and down. My mouth follows my body to pull you in and out. My lips slide easily along the rippled, silken skin but you are harder than steel and I can’t keep my teeth from nicking a little. Yet, it’s not too much pain; the occasional sting only heightens the pleasure as I rock faster. I dig into your hips to get more leverage, lifting and pushing myself so I can increase this perfect rhythm and still take all of you.
I notice your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides and I look up. I lift my head and watch you watching me. I cup the weight in my hands, bringing your sac to my mouth and lick around the fine hairs, nip the slack skin. I put a single finger to the base of your cock, compressing the tip of my tongue against the spot where the soft sacks meet rigid muscle, and lick hard to the tip and back down again. I lick until I can see the beseeching glaze of impending release on your face. I feel a gentle tug as your testicles pull slightly out of my palms and I take my tongue away. When you finally surrender to that little death, I want it to be inside of me, only me. Always me.
Thank you.
Standing up, I stretch my body, cracking joints and easing muscles, then hold your shoulders to kiss you some more. The kiss is moist and leisurely this time and you tenderly cradle my head. Without breaking away from your mouth, I put my foot on the clothing still wrapped around your legs so you can pull free. When you step out, I lead you to the chair and back away. The moonlight reflects off your skin and the wetness my mouth left on your jutting erection makes it shimmer in the silver light. I stare at it, knowing it was me who made you so deliriously hard and ready, and I cannot keep the feral smile from my lips.
Looking in your eyes now, I unbutton my own blouse. My breasts feel tight with desire so I free the clasp on my bra and press them with my hands to ease the ache. I know you like to watch me undress for you. I also know I don’t do it enough. Tonight, I want you to understand that I am giving everything I have; I will give you anything you want. I slide my blouse and bra off my shoulders and slowly run my hands over my stomach and ribs. I tell you these are your palms touching me; your fingers pressing and kneading my flesh; your touches like fire. They caress up and around my neck and through my hair. I stretch them above my head, holding my back sharply arched, my chest thrust out. I bring my hands down again and cup my breasts, molding one against the other, lifting them to lick the rounded tops. My fingers close around the nipples and roll the hard flesh with a pressure that draws a lengthy hiss of pain. I skim down to my hips and across to my navel and tickle my fingers along the top of my skirt. I caress the top of my pelvis and wiggle at the seductive tease.
I am so submerged in the fantasy that these are your hands on my body that I no longer feel them as my own. Breathing heavily, I pull at my skirt, tearing a seam as I force it over my hips. My hands seek out the heat between my legs and you can see that my panties are wet. The damp white cotton reveals the swollen outline of my clit pushing between lips of smooth flesh. With one fingernail, I scratch at the sensitive tip and can barely swallow a scream at the pleasure that pierces me. Instead I bite my lip, drawing blood. I press the wet cloth hard against bone and rub in small circles. Moaning, tasting my own blood, I watch you reach for your cock. As you rub the length with a languid motion, my moans synchronize to the cadence of your thrusts. With every upward stroke, I press my fingers further into the slick furrows. With every downward push of your hand my moans grow louder and last longer.
I can almost feel those thrusts inside me. My hand stills, just pressing against my flesh while I watch you masturbate. I can’t take my eyes from your hand. I can’t concentrate enough to even try anything else. Reading the greedy look in my eyes, you grip your cock. With an indulgent smirk, you pump your hips, forcing the hard flesh through your palm and fingers. You push off the chair faster and my moans come faster, turning into grunts. You whisper of how good I feel; how tightly I am squeezing you. You urge me to cum for you with explicit and crude words that heat my blood. I start to feel a faint penetration; even as I watch you stroke yourself, I can feel my own body stretching to accept you. I press against myself harder. My vision narrows to blackness as my muscles grip and spasm around nothing at all when you drive inside, filling me one last time and I cum for you; just like you told me to.
Thank you.
When the last shock is gone I turn my back, shedding my panties. I bend at the waist to slide them down and watch you from between my legs. You’re holding your cock but your hand is still, as if you’ve forgotten what you were doing. I get down on my knees to pull my underwear all the way off and when I arch my back you can see how wet I am. Dropping my head to rest on the floor, I brush a hand up the insides of my thighs. I spread my labia open to touch the exposed flesh and my fingers slip and slide along the glistening folds. I use both hands to reach behind myself, caressing my smooth bottom, separating the halves with wet, flexing fingers, leaving streaks of moisture on the skin. I know I am teasing you with such a stark display, that you’re thinking of fucking me this way. In truth, I’m teasing myself. The feather-light scratches and subtle rubs send twinges of pleasurable contractions into my abdomen. My fingers drive me mad. I know it’s driving you mad, too.
I turn around and crawl to your feet. Turning my head from left to right, I kiss and lick my way up your calves. My tongue swirls along the backs of your knees and plays with the insides of your thighs. I stop at your testicles and take first one side, then the other into my mouth. I roll them as gently as I can against my tongue and you help me lift your hips so I can slide my hands beneath you. Moving over you, I take you with my mouth again. I receive just a little at a time, adjusting and relaxing so I can bring you deep, deeper. I am perfectly still, just holding you inside my mouth and I can feel your pulse pounding beneath the skin. I flex the back of my tongue, pushing your cock against the roof of my mouth, and drink. Gripping with both hands, you force my head closer and my lips press into the flesh around the base of your shaft to take in every last possible inch of you. I begin to swallow, my tongue undulates around you, milking and pulling. I bring you close to orgasm and then stop and wait unmoving until you can hold back your release. Again I draw on you, harder this time. Again bringing you just short of orgasmic attainment. Going down on you like this is heaven for me. I love the taste of you, the hard heat and musky scent of your flesh, the pleasure I know you get from this self-denial. You know how much it excites me to take you this way, loving you with my mouth. You indulge me as long as you can, holding back over and over, even though it would feel so good to let go and drain your cum deep into my gullet.
Thank you.
When it’s finally too much, you bring us both to our feet and step close. Working to tame your passion, you rub my body with leisurely caresses. You tell me how you’ve missed me, how you love me. The beautiful words make me weep. You kiss away my tears and wrap me in your arms. You bend your head to my ear and sing a song of lovers; lovers who cry each other’s tears, whose unwavering devotion to each other gives them invulnerable strength. I melt inside. You don’t do it often, maybe that’s why it’s so powerful, but I fall in love with you all over again every time you sing to me. You make me feel cherished, precious, delicate. You sway me back and forth to the slow melody, your naked body brushing mine, the sweet sound of your voice in my ear, and I tremble with emotion. It’s too much. It’s painful, overwhelming.
Thank you.
I press my body closer. I need to get inside you somehow. I push your arms behind you and you let me, standing motionless while I get closer still. I dig my nails into your back, scoring the skin. I run my hands over the hard muscles of your buttocks, between your thighs, pulling and grasping. I touch you everywhere, lick you everywhere, re-igniting your desire to a fever of need. You try to touch me, but I evade your hands. Again, you let me explore and taste and touch until you are shaking with restraint and frustration. You can take no more.
Growling, with thoughts of retribution, you back me against the wall, angling your hips to brush your cock against my stomach. When I reach for you, you cross my wrists high over my head and force me to my toes. You rub your hard erection across my belly from side to side, swaying and bumping against me. You prod the divot at the juncture of my ribs. Trace the line of my hips. Bending your knees, you use your cock to caress my thighs and the smooth mound between them, nudging the flesh apart and rubbing the tip along the crease. My muscles are on fire, the tight grip you’ve got on my wrists hurts yet I am panting wildly. With your other hand you squeeze my breasts possessively, painfully, and I cry out. You grip my neck with bruising fingers and I throw my head back to give you better access. Your hands become more forceful, hurting, torturing. It excites me but I wonder that I’ve pushed too far. Then you kiss me, and although your hands are rough your mouth is tender.
Thank you.
You release my wrists and lift me, holding me pressed high against the wall with my legs on your shoulders. You tell me to open myself to you. I spread the flesh that conceals the wet folds and swollen bud of my sex. As I hold my labia open you blow on me, then lick. I watch as your strong tongue plays inside and along the petals. It stabs at my clit and I cry out. You close your lips around it and suck hard, very hard. A shattering orgasm thunders through me, drizzling a rivulet of cum onto your tongue. You drive it deep inside, swallowing the tangy liquid. Without your hands supporting me, I would surely tumble to the floor. My fingers keep my cunt stretched wide, slipping along your tongue where it enters my body as I ride you. Your clever mouth draws from me an endless climax of expanding and receding waves. Stabbing me, stroking me over and over without mercy. I can’t stop. It seems to stretch on and on, yet it is not nearly enough. Please, no more. Sobbing now, I am begging you to fuck me; I can’t take any more; I need you inside me; I need you to fill me.
Finally you relent and bring me down, hooking my legs around your waist and I cross my ankles behind you. I am still quivering as you push just the tip of your cock inside my pussy and your tongue inside my mouth. My own taste and scent excite me further. Taking your mouth from mine you tell me how good I taste; how much you love to lick me; to fuck me with your tongue; you ask me how I taste; demand I tell you that I like it. As you whisper these tantalizing words in my ear your cock slides in farther, moving easily but slowly and it feels like coming home. Our time apart has tightened the opening, making you almost too large. I feel the invasion firing along every nerve, stirring inside every cell. When you are pressed all the way in, touching the very depths, your cock dances and twitches within me and another culminating crest clutches your hard flesh. You begin to move, sliding freely even though the flesh is tight. You fuck me slow, bringing me back to earth with an absorbing, evasive rhythm, still whispering harsh phrases. One long thrust for every eight beats. Over and again. Now two hypnotizing strokes, pressing deep for a count of six. Now three and I count to five, craving more. The pace is maddening and oh so intense. I kiss you and my tongue unconsciously echoes the timing of your movements. You gradually increase the frequency until the tempo drives you inside me with every beat.
I plead with you to help me; you have to help me. I can’t get a breath. I feel dizzy. The pleasure builds and I need to cum. Now. You back up to the chair and sit, keeping me impaled on you. Unwinding my legs from your back, you plant my feet on the low arms of the chair and help me adjust to the position. You command me to ride you. My legs are spread so far apart that I close even tighter around your cock. When I rise up I feel a wonderfully heavy pull on my flesh. So I ride. I go slowly at first, trying to acclimate my body to the demanding position. You reach between us and start fingering my exposed flesh. I want you to fill me; to never stop touching me. Bucking and dipping, I ride you faster and you pinch my clit between your fingers. I moan your name over and over, so close to orgasm but I want you to come with me. Please come with me. Feel how I hold you. Give me what I crave. You feel so good, so hard. I want the hot gush of your release spilling into me. I’ve been so long without you, without this. At last, at last, you shout my name and pin my body down onto yours, rubbing my flesh at the place we come together. My spirit soars even as my flesh throbs in earthly fulfillment. I feel the sweet liquid heat of you coursing into me as your shouts spiral around us. Lifting me easily, you carry my limp body to the bed. I realize I am crying as you draw me into your arms, holding me like a child, trying to quiet my tears. I am home.
Thank you.
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