“You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time, haven’t you?”
She looked up at me as I bent her legs back so I could pound her pussy until she made me fly and fill the sky.
“Yes,” I said and grunted.
We both grunted.
“I’ve been waiting,” she murmured as we gazed into each other’s eyes.
Her eyes closed as she turned her face to one side upon the pillow.
I studied her freckles and the undulations of her breath and belly.
We’ve known each other on and off and on again for,
what, how many years?
Nine or ten.
Nine or ten years, by then.
It’s been over four years now.
Ours was a strange friendship bound up in Celtic knots.
Our love was a rare mix of depth and mellowness.
We were both casual and intentional.
The two of us were divorced, she longer than I,
tho less often than me.
Earlier she’d cooked me dinner.
She invited me into her bed.
I threw her down and ate her out.
Her orgasm made the bed shudder and my face wet.
I mounted her like a beast.
And quickly slowed down.
We drifted and pushed, pulled and clenched,
breathed and relaxed.
Her lips were wet upon my ears.
Sand drained from the hourglass into the abyss.
I moved forward with my arms beneath her legs as I rolled her up.
My hairy body contrasted with her smoothness.
Two months earlier she’d leaned forward out of her front door
with hunger in her face. Her hands gripped both sides of the doorway and her mouth opened for all of me.
I froze, caught off guard, mired too deeply in melancholia to either react or respond. My mouth mumbled goodbye as I turned away towards my car parked uphill and around the corner out of sight.
This remains one of the few, the very few, regrets in my life.
For I wanted her, wanted her badly, but my mindbody was too numb to be anything but a prison for my heart.
Time passed, and she was drunk at her own birthday party. She laughed and kissed me quickly in the parking lot before two other friends pulled her with entangled fingers. I had a long ways to drive to get home before waking up at 5:00 in the morning to go to work.
She drew me back into her and we accelerated with wild, animal lust.
All time fell away before primal rhythms unleashed by our presence to one another’s hunger.
The next morning at dawn was our last time sweating together upon her bed kissing, sucking, pushing, pulling, and fucking.
At least for now.
We moved apart to date other people. She found another guy, a man with steady, dependable income.
Tobacco smoke lingers in the air where we both sit on logs in the woods many miles and days apart.
Unseen by the other we light up one cigarette after another.
I smoke the first one slowly.
Burned thru the second.
The third glowed as red-hot as an iron bar left in a furnace.
She wouldn’t ever let me see her smoke with such urgency, however, nor did I allow her to catch me drawing upon those cigarettes either.
As I sat upon the log and flicked ashes upon damp moss, an American red squirrel barked and scurried away. I smiled with memories of pounding her then slowing down with short thrusts followed by long, twisting plunges as she squeezed and pumped me with muscles deep within her pelvis.
The smoke dissipated after I crushed the cigarette upon a stone.
Thirty miles and three days apart
she did the same as we turned time into art.
William Dudley Bass
Sun-Mon 12-13 November 2017
Wed 15 November 2017
Copyright © 2017 by William Dudley Bass. All Rights Reserved until we Humans establish Wise Stewardship of and for our Earth and Solarian Commons. Thank you.