“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 to pound her pussy till 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. “I’ve been waiting, too.”
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.
Well, maybe a dozen.
Wow.
It’s been over six years now.
Since then.
Hmmn.
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.
I had problems staying hard,
and cumming too fast.
Depression can shutter even the wildest libido.
I kept going anyway.
Movement is sacred.
Took slow, deep breaths.
Soon my breaths matched hers,
and hers, mine.
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 from depression to be anything but a prison for my heart. And hers.
Time passed, and she was drunk at her own birthday party. She laughed and kissed me quickly in the parking lot before two other laughing friends pulled her onwards 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 bit my ear.
I groaned. We accelerated with wild, animal lust.
All time fell away before primal rhythms unleashed by our presence to the other’s hunger.
The next morning at dawn was our last time sweating together upon her bed kissing, sucking, pushing, pulling, fucking, and messing up the sheets.
At least for now.
We moved apart to date other people. She found another guy, a man with steady, dependable income. Who likes to run.
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
Thurs 8 February 2018
SeaTac/Seattle, Washington
Cascadia
Earth
Copyright © 2017, 2018, 2024 by William Dudley Bass. All Rights Reserved until we Humans establish Wise Stewardship of and for our Earth and Solarian Commons. Thank you.