Everything is quiet. Hushed. Not the world around me, but my head. I close my eyes and there’s not the usual hum and chatter. An unfamiliar calm takes it place. Eyes wide open, I see the street. Coffee shops, sweaters and coats, smiles, energy, life. Colors ablaze. Cute haircuts. Sexy glances. Dropped coins. Dirty fingers. I hear the rustle of the crisp leaves. I hear moaning dogs echoing the sounds of sirens in my city. The vibrancy that surrounds me is astonishing. The quiet shush in my head, a revelation. I hear my blood.
There is this girl. That’s how stories begin, yes? There is this girl. I won’t tell you she’s magic. I won’t succumb to the swelling orchestra, the perfect pop song, the knowingly false belief that this is unique, unknown, a singular love. But, truly, there is this girl. And when I’m with her, my mind is quiet. That steady stream of second guessing that always rustled my thoughts disappeared when I met her. It took me several weeks to figure out why things felt quiet.
Everything is in our hands, on our skin, rolling off our tongues. We are face to face.
Deep. Deeper. At first it was my cock. She wanted me so deep inside her. My fingers weren’t enough. The cock tucked inside my jeans wasn’t enough. More. Deeper. My biggest, longest, thickest cock and still she seemed to want more even when I felt my cock thud against her and she gasped with every deep, long thrust inside her. I felt the pressure against my clit as my cock reached deep inside, filling her. “I’ve never wanted so much,” she cried, her tears streaming down my neck. Her wet mouth lay soft on my chest. We fucked like this for hours and fell asleep wrapped around each other with sticky thighs and fingers. I woke up with my open mouth against her shoulder as if we’d been suspended in time. “I love you,” she said. Or maybe I said it. I’d been thinking it for days feeling unable to say the words out loud. Not sure I believed in such a thing anymore. But here it was.
Deeper. So deep. Everything. Opening up completely. Letting me see down deep into the depths where she feels ugly and undeserving. Telling her things I’m ashamed of and being glad to lay them down in front of her one by one.
This isn’t so scary.
Yes it is. I know it is. And yet it feels like home. Like the home I’ve never known. Like what you think home must be for someone, somewhere. Is it?
“Have you seen her? Tell me, have you seen her?” The Chi-Lites sing inside my head, sway from side to side, snap their fingers. It’s funny how many songs I catch myself singing these days are sad ones. Now, when I’m so happy. But then, this love feels like the sweetest melancholy. Sweet and sad knowing that I’d given up on it. It’s that sweet sadness that comes with the joy of barely missing some terrible accident. You hold your child who nearly drowned and the relief is bound together with the realization of what was nearly lost. You sob. You’re so happy. You hold her.
I’m shuddering with big, fat tears and squeezing this girl tight because I thought I’d never find her.
These last few weeks we fuck slow, so slow. Painfully slow. Yesterday I burned with desire and started to pound her pussy with my fingers. She grabbed my hand and dragged it up her belly, between her breasts, and sucked me into her mouth. Softly, her tongue licked my fingers until they dripped. She held my hand in both her own and pushed it back down between her legs. She gripped my index finger long and slowly, so slowly, pulled it up and down over her clit. Wet and slippery. “I want you to kiss me,” she whispered, her eyes already wet with tears, “I want to come in your mouth.” I opened my lips just above hers. The tips of our tongues brushed each other lightly. I felt her warm breath in my mouth. Her slick, wet, swollen clit under the tip of my finger. So soft. So slow. Feeling everything. I felt it so deep. Bone deep. An ache. She moaned and the vibration of her voice buzzed my lips. “Baby,” I whimpered, “This is what I want.”
She came with a jerk of her hips and a loud groan. She pushed my hand aside and said, “I want to come again.” I felt her finger push and pull on her clit. I tilted my head to see the quick circling of her wrist. Tense. Taut. I watched her climb. My hands were everywhere, rubbing her. I hovered over her, my hips thrusting in the air. She came again almost immediately and said, “One more.” “Yes,” I said. I felt something unlock inside her. I held her close to me while she came again. “I want days and days,” I whispered. She nodded quickly and turned her head into my chest as she came so hard, her body so flushed and hot. “I’ve never wanted something so deep,” she said. “So deep,” I answered and pulled her to me with my hands buried in her hair.