Friday, January 22, 2010

She was on top.

What I remember most was the quiet, the darkness, the faint stillness, the slow and languid way you rose and fell on my body as you took all of me inside of you.

I remember holding your hips, warm and giving, and of holding your broad and round ass, round and generous, and of holding your thighs, thick and firm, as they clamped at either side of me and anchored you. Your breasts were round and full, heavy in my hands when I gently gripped them with outspread palms. I held them still, squeezing them, as you leaned closer to me to ride my cock harder and faster. You panted as you rested your forehead to my shoulder, panted right into my ear as I pumped my hips upward to drive my cock into your body. I could feel your wetness on my balls, my thighs, and as I held your ass with outspread fingers.

The window was frosty. The night snow tinked on the glass. You fucked me, rode me, until you shuddered and came on top of me. You threw your head back when you did. You were so lovely.

I had to be up early, and you had had a few drinks at the party where you danced with your magazine friends. We cuddled and drifted to sleep because it was late. My arm coiled over your torso as you lay on your side, your pendulous breast inside of my hand as I drifted.

It's probably because I write a sexblog, withmy attention being drawn to times and places, that I remember this. Our last fuck happened on a cold late January night, and I remember it being four years since. It hardly seems that long.

1 comment:

Rogue said...

So I'm watching a Six Feet Under episode on DVD with this excellent lover in my life, this warm and nurturing teachertype person, someone with whom there really might actually be a future, and the character on the screen makes a remark about a partner from her past.

Her past partner is dead, you see. It's Six Feet Under after all. They've been apart for 15 years, and there she is at his funeral, at first trying to remember whi he was to her, and then realizing that a part of her valued What Was There At One Time with this past man in her life.

"I've so moved on," she tells Rico, who is dealing with his own breakup issues, "but, you know, once someone gets into your heart..."

I've so moved on. But you got into my heart, one of a very precious few.

I realized recently that you're still listed as a beneficiary for one of my RSPs. Do I remove you? Or do I leave you with a reminding financial surprise?

I probably owe it to myself to stop remembering you. My life is great, much better than it was when we were together. But I'd be lying if I said you hadn't left your mark.

That's no insult to anyone I'm with now or had been since. Some even envy it and have desired it for themselves even as they shut the door too. Others, like Kara, even find a way to celebrate it in me.

I hope you're well.