I pulled off her jacket and her dress, leaving her naked, and there in the hall, without any ritual or preparations, without even time to say what would be a great and bad. With the cold wind blowing in under the front door, we made love. She thought perhaps she should tell me to stop, so that we could have time to explore the immerse world of our sexuality, but at the same time, she wanted me inside her, because I was the man she had never possessed and would never posses again if lost. That is why she could love me with all her energy and have at least for that night what she'd never had before and what she would possible never have after a long time again.
I lay her down at the floor and entered her before she was aroused and ready, but the pain didn't bother her; on then contrary, she liked it like that, because I obviously understands the she was mine and that I didn't need to ask permission. She wasn't there in order to teach me anything or to prove that she was more sensitive or more passionate than other women waiting for this, that she was pleased about my total disregard for the rules we had created between us and that I was now demanding that we should be guided solely by our instincts, male and female.
We are in the most conventional of position --her underneath me, with her legs spread, and me on top of her, moving in and out, while she looked at me with no desire to pretend or to moan of to do anything, just wanting to keep her eyes open so that she could remember every second, watch my face changing, my hands grabbing her hair, my mouth biting her, kissing her. No preliminaries, no caresses, no preparations, no sophistications, just me inside her and her inside my soul.
I came and went, quickening and slowing the rhythm, stopping sometimes to look at her too, but I didn't ask if she was enjoying it, because I knew that this was the only way our souls could communicate at that moment. The rhythm increased, as she knew that eleven minutes were coming to an end and she wanted us to last forever because it was so good --ah! dear God! it was good --to be possessed and not to posses. And we had our eyes wide open all the time, until she noticed at one point we were no longer seeing clearly anymore and we seemed to move in a dimension in which she was the great mother, ancient rituals that I had told her about over wine and beside an open fire. She saw that I shouted. I yelled. I roared like an animal. A thought flashed through her mind that the neighbors might cal the police, but it didn't matter, and she felt immense pressure, because this was how it had been since the beginning of time, when the first man meet the first woman and they made love for the first time: they shouted.
Then my body collapsed onto her's, and she don't know how long we stayed there, our arms around each other; she stroked my hair as she had done only once before, on the night when we locked ourselves up in the darkness of the cinema, she felt his racing heart gradually slow to its normal rate, hands began delicately to move up and down her arms making all the hairs on her body prickle.
I must have had a practical thought --the weight of my body on her's --because I rolled over, took her hand and lay there staring up the ceiling and the chandeleir with its three light bulbs lit.
"Good evening" she said.
I drew her over so that her head was resting on my chest. For a long time, I just stroked her and then I said "Welcome home".
2 comments:
Did you write this yourself?Its very delicate and inspiring and HOT! Well it is lol.
so alive. vivid. passionate.
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