Nights together numbered a hundred already. Some nights of quiet intimacy, other of fiery passion; warmth and succor; sweat, sex and blood. She had invited me to dinner at the Holiday Inn, it was the first time she took me on a date. She wore one black and white dress that always drove me insane, the blood flowing to my loins upon sight of her in it. We dined – the table wasn’t the one she intended, but the view was just as good for me as I could only look at her – and then she offered to show me around the place. Gullible, unsuspecting fool that I am, I never saw the surprise coming. We went up in one of the elevators; she showed me where the pool was. Up the elevator again and she told me to close my eyes because she had a surprise for me. I walked as she led me, I blind as a bat. Into a room, she was treating me to a hotel room.
It was her birthday and we were staying in the Hotel where we had spent our seven-month anniversary the previous year. Tired from work and a long night of celebration the previous evening, I succumbed to the unbelievably comfortable bed of our room. It was a few floors higher than the one we’d gotten the previous time which delighted her to no end. Hours later, the night upon us, we both awoke and hunger took us. Fast food was on the menu. Food procured, we settled in to watch cheesy b-movies about gigolos with terrible faux-Italian accents.
After drinks, after a short stint with friends and the loss of an idol, we were back at the room. My hunger for her only exacerbated by the postponement of consummation. She plopped down on the bed and I could confirm from my vantage point that her assertion as to going panty-less was true. She pretended to watch some documentary about the devil as she waited for me to take action. I was drawn to the fragrance of her sex; the promise of succor for my thirst drawing me down, my lips gracing her most intimate flesh. The night became slow and sultry as I undressed her, standing, and she in turn removed my clothes. The horse-tail whip cracked, hitting my back as I took her, self-inflicted flagellation. Over and over we explored one another. Over and over one’s sweat flowing into the other’s. Little by little I consumed her until the throbbing in her body became ecstasy. Bit by bit she eroded me until my dam broke inside her again and again. She sitting atop of me, straddling me, he back turned to me, watching her own reflection on the windows, enraptured by her own beauty. I not knowing where to look while in my mind exploded the sensations that were shared by the rod which she swallowed beneath. And when we were both spent, her gentle pampering of my manhood. Kisses and suckling where remnants of us both remained, wasting not a drop of us. I, basking in the light given off by her naked form; how fortunate I am, I thought.
In the darkness she cried, remembering those no longer with us. I consoled her with my presence, or so I hoped. I consoled her with kisses, or so I hoped. I consoled her with my silence, rapt attention at her words. When I spoke I said little, but what little I said I intended to drive home. Tears expelled and sadness quelled, we fell to the love that boiled in our veins. The flesh, as with a mind of its own, made us attempt to blend at the carnal. In joyous movements, in frantic overtures, frenetically seeking to consume the other, we wove our flesh into one for a while. And as we both welcomed sleep anew, I looked to her and thought: how fortunate I am.
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