Winter Solstice Ritual

For years she had celebrated alone. Yet, like so many things in the last few months, this too had changed.

 

A part of her was nervous, the other overjoyed. She had become accustomed to being a solitary witch. His presence although exhilarating, also threw her off her game a little. Deep inside her, she knew things would never be the same. She was now truly understanding the level of his commitment to them as a couple. It scared her. It pleased her.

 

 The hard part had been staying awake. As an early bird she was up at 5:30 a.m. by the time 11:30 pm rolled around her eyes were heavy from fighting sleep.Yet for once the ritual would be played out right.

She walked to the thermostat and turned off the heat. In this northern climate the move was a bold one. Yet it was part of the sacrament. To feel in the next half hour the temperature drop slightly was a way to represent the drop in temperature that led to this, the darkest and longest of nights.

On the floor, the bare hardwood floor, she knelt. Feeling him by her side, they lit their respective candles. Her the red for the Goddess, a reflection of all things female. Blood. Life. Him, the Green. The symbol of the male life force, the harsh survival of the forest, the evergreens, the hunt.

They sat quietly meditating side by side, reflecting on the past year. The hopes that had at last come to be reality. They thought of the men and women that had guided them, the wise few that had brought them some bright light of wisdom. They thought of the seeds of potential asleep under the snow within them. They thought of each other …. and hands reached across the floor and clasped tightly.

At midnight – they both lit the white candle left in the center. Untainted white. No fragrance. The symbol of the purity of hope, of new life, of the everlasting spark of joy. They stood and shed their clothing and stepped away, peeling it like old snake skin and leaving it behind. Turning they faced each other and with a natural sponge, they quietly and reverently cleaned each other in warm water.

As the cleansing made it’s way across her flesh she was aware of everything. The scent of the red and green candles, her nipples hardening in the cooling air how her own hand on his chest trembled slightly and the Goosebumps showing. She enjoyed the feel of his hands across her shoulders, her spine, her lower back, her ass and as the wet sponge made it’s way between her thighs her entire being arched into him.

Her own digits wrapped around his manhood, and she pulled him closer. Tonight, they symbolized the God and the Goddess. Slowly as they washed away the fear and failures of the year past, they brought on the moment of purity. La petite Mort. The small death. Orgasm. Winter was, the small death in the wheel of the seasons. Orgasm was, the only time when we as humans, were closest to purity, to Love. The transparency of the moment when closing their eyes, together they felt, from the simple gesture of cleaning one another, of caressing, of holding, pulling, jerking … the ripples of ecstasy flow though them.

The floor was wet, their bodies as well, heaving, arching, rupturing in pleasure – in one blissful moment his white semen surged forward with a deep guttural growl. Her own body responded with a flow of clear liquid. For a split second, they were united in the white, unadulterated light. Back on earth, with flushed cheeks, they finished cleaning each other in breathless silence.

Walking on slightly shaking legs she turned the heat back on. As of today the days would get longer, the slow progress towards spring, summer and fall would start anew.

She turned to see him standing in his naked glory. Her man, her love, her God. Handing her a glass of Champagne he pulled her in for a kiss, deep and passionate.

“May this year fill your heart with the ever lasting spark of hope and joy my love”.

And they fell to the floor and melted into each other anew.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

***

Happy Winter Solstice everyone … I invite you to share in the comment box your own take on the ritual on this most wonderful of Sabbaths! I’m curious to see what you come up with … go on … don’t be shy! How would you do it?

　

　

 

 

 

Tears of Redemption

Miss me?  I have been away on vacation. Yes … much needed and much enjoyed time in the sun.  On vacation I didn’t write. Not a single word – I did however a great deal of thinking. Those thoughts then inspired a small series of stories. Not all erotic in the true sense.  Here is the first.

We don’t truly understand the meaning of the word “illusion”. Yet, we live most of our lives in one, being one. We live the life we think we should be living, and not the one that we know in our hearts is true to who we are. We keep up with the Joneses to the point of crushing debt and even breaking our own moral code. We go after big dreams that are not our own. We marry people out of fear of loneliness or because it’s “that time” and have children because it’s the next logical step. We are, in fact, spectators in our own lives, living a life of illusion.

Yet there are those that dare to be different. Those that dare to say “no” to the white picket fence, the 2.5 kids and the golden retriever. Those that  stop and think for themselves, and look outside the small confines of the world they live in and the restraints of cultural, parental, societal and religious dictatorship. There are those that will backpack around the world, those that will give up every material good or their horde of false friends in order to Be real. To be in synch with who they really are. Those few brave souls find happiness although they will often be met with sneers and glances of disapproval. After all they are proof “it” can be done – and who wants to be reminded that they are too much of a coward to find themselves?

Those unique few touch the “Real” or let the “Real” touch them like the ancients did – the fathers of the desert – men that before Christianity, would venture out into the sands, alone, as hermits to think on the relationship between humans and Life, Nature and the Absolute. Today’s Psychology is a walk in the park compared to that.

For most of us, the sense of the True, comes only as bright moments in our lives that we then spend an eternity trying to re-capture, not realizing how simple it is to let go of the Ego, from “beliefs”, from this mirror image of ourselves… the illusion.  This is the train of thought that inspired this story.

****

It was a gorgeous weekend. Sun and fall colors abound. He looked at the woman by his side and felt his heart swell. No explanation, just seeing her there by his side as they followed the path had triggered something in him. The sun shining in her auburn hair, the gray at her temples glittering; his hand reached up without prompting or forethought to caress the platinum strands. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he fought them back. She looked at him quizzically.  He shook his head and pointed out the stunning tree in full autumn dress and exclaimed in wonder and joked that it looked to him like the flaming bush of the bible. He started dodging around pretending he could hear the voice of God. She laughed and told him he was silly.

Even those words made him gulp down a lump in his throat – what was wrong with him?

The weekend had been full yet relaxing. They had cooked together, lingered in bed and enjoyed each other many times in many ways; they had gone to a play and stopped to listen to a street musician afterwards as they left the theater behind; still talking animatedly about the scenes that had touched them. They had tea and coffee in a quaint little hole in the wall. An art gallery turned coffee shop. And they talked a great deal more.

For now, however, they walked in silence hand in hand.

They happened upon a bench by the river, and sat down. He fumbled a moment in his many pockets and pulled out his single cigar humidor, which had been a gift from her, and his guillotine. With the same reverence of a religious ritual, he pulled the cigar out, sucked the tip to moisten it, cut and lit his one cigar of the week.  He leaned back to take in the perfect moment as they watched the sea gulls and Canada Geese fly, squawk and fight over some discarded hot dog bun. He was at peace, her head in his lap, the sun warming them even on this late fall afternoon. He couldn’t explain the overwhelming feeling in his heart and it didn’t matter. He didn’t feel “giddy crazy” … But it wasn’t calm either… euphoric perhaps.

They made their way back home. Feeling like a blanket of life and joy was wrapped around them. Their hearts warm even if their fingers and noses were cold. Once inside, the fireplace was lit, a cup of cocoa made and they continued their silent companionship as the room began to fill with the smell of a stew in the slow cooker. He was startled when she suddenly bounded up off the couch, and half ran to the bathroom only to return with a pair of tweezers.

Half blushing she asked in a tiny voice “pluck the little man hairs on my chin for me?” he tried with every ounce not to laugh. She was so classy and elegant, the idea of man hairs on her chin just didn’t jive. Yet he was amazingly touched that she’d ask him to help with their removal. Mutual grooming was such an intimate thing. He swallowed any smart ass remarks threatening to stumble off his tongue and onto his lips, and accepted the show of trust for what it was with gratitude and composure.

She lay herself down on the bed, in the sunbeam and stretched out like a cat. He started plucking away the few sparse hairs, and then was done. Yet he couldn’t move. He stayed there, hovering above her, kissing her eyelids, caressing her neck softly with his hands. The stereo played a longing tune, the sun was warm and he could not be anything but amazingly tender and loving and … she started crying.

The tears fell slowly – just falling down her cheek. He wasn’t alarmed. She was smiling, breathing quietly. Joy was writ all over her. Her delicate hand pointed to her now bare nipples and she just smirked, her eyes still closed. He started plucking out the half dozen slightly darker hairs there as well. She squirmed and squealed and then … her breathing changed.

His hand caressed her body longingly, the energy in him non sexual. It was something else. He noticed the smallest things. The pores of her skin, the tiny little hairs that would rise to meet his hand like a sweet peach lifting to meet his lips, it all amazed and intrigued. She was soft, yet firm and he marveled at that. As he lifted her leg up, and slowly entered her with his hard member, his act wasn’t a sexual one. It was one of unification. The goal not the pursuit of orgasm, but the simple joy of being cohesively One. She breathed deeply, and sighed, the rhythm was soft and slow and nothing was urgent. They gazed into each others eyes, hers still moist from her falling tears.

With both ankles atop his shoulders, he lifted her ass up softly and gently. Leaning in he was lost in wonder at her flexibility. Resting on the back of her thighs he let his eyes meet hers again and they never left. Slowly a build up occurred and they leaned in to kiss as a caress rushed through them both. They sighed. He pulled out with regret and let her legs go. She curled into him and let her hands caper and carouse with his nipples, and follow the contour of his muscles down his navel where she then played with his now softening prick. She sat up, leaned on one elbow and looked at him with tender love and compassion in her gaze.

He was looking up at her and feeling the warmth of her glowing body was an incredible comfort as was the cascade of her hair; a curtain of intimacy for just the two of them. She kissed his eyelids, his cheek, his lips and neck; she cupped his face to her, in her lap. And now he too cried. No sobs; just quiet tears pooling and gently falling in a small trickle to the white cotton of the hotel quality bedspread. He was in harmony with who he was, living the life he wanted and for the first time he loved without agenda.

He looked up at her smiling, open faced and shed more tears.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

Rain Drop-let

It’s raining. It should be snowing but the temperatures are above seasonal this year. I sit in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace looking out the large bay window onto an empty street. Not a soul stirs, not even the usual stray cats. I’m reading, or trying to, but my attention wavers and I can’t concentrate on my book. It doesn’t have enough substance, the story line weak and the writing mediocre. I look out again, at the dismal landscape and I am overcome by this sense of loneliness.

I feel very much like the rain drop that somehow managed to circumvent the large front porch roof and hit the glass pane before my eyes. It’s so alone, streaking slowly down the dusty surface. Another drop hits the window its velocity far greater, b-lining for the first one still lazily, patiently making its way down. The two drops intersect and merge, suddenly there … for only a moment… they remain thus hanging, hovering defying the laws of gravity. Then together they plummet, plunge and dive giddy in their union and disappear from my view.

I close my eyes, becoming that first droplet. I imagine the frightful fall from my familiar cloud. I imagine that strange gust of wind that changes my destination beyond my control. I imagine the pain as I smash into the bay window. I see myself slowly walking, stunned and lost down a dusty road. As I walk I feel my senses come back to me. I hear a bird sing in the distance, I notice the grass on the edge of the road is dry but still alive. I think back on my long journey and lost in thought I don’t see the path up ahead cutting mine horizontally; I don’t hear the sound of the oncoming car.

Suddenly wheels screech, an engine hums and dies and the smell of burning rubber fill’s my nose. My hand reaches out in an automatic reflex at the blinding glint of sun reflecting of metal. My fingers resting on the burning chrome grill, I steady myself. I hear a door open, I look up and there standing before me, is my hearts desire. A combination of worry and anger etched on his face. We stare. He stops in his tracks. His lips move as if trying to say something, his eyes searching mine and looking for some hidden memory in the vaults of his mind. Time stands still for an instant. Recognition or love entwined reunited through time.

No need for introductions we know who we are. He walks quickly towards me, wrapping his arms protectively around me, supportive. “Are you alright?” I nod. I am now.

Standing on my toes, raising my head to his I bring an arm around his neck and pull him down for our lips to meet. We kiss. Long and sweet an all-encompassing embrace that triggers memories lost of our past lives. Reluctant we part a moment. He looks at me as a smile slowly curls the edge of his mouth and he lifts me up, placing me on the hot hood of the car. 

Oblivious to the stinging of my skin from my nearly scalding perch,  forehead to forehead we take in the moment, our breaths caught in our lungs, we are barely able to breath. “I found you” he whispers… a sentence that barely makes sense. I press myself to him wanting to erase lifetimes without his presence from my lonely bones and heart.

His hands glide up my thigh, lingering a moment near my ass, fingers firmly pressing, digging in a little, getting a good grip. It feels so good. I kiss him again with more passion giving him the ok.

My skirt is short and flimsy, offering little in the way of resistance. My blouse low-cut with tiny buttons offering his right hand a challenge in dexterity. One pops open and the blouse falls off one shoulder and his fingers follow hungrily to the cleft between my breasts. He circumvents the small hurdle that is my “balcony” style bra and his hand dips into the cup and scoops my breast slowly, reverently. My leg’s part, allowing him into my personal space even more, he takes a small step forward in response to my invitation.

I feel light headed as our breath runs wild, our kissing eager. He moans deeply as my pelvic bone rubs and grinds into his jean protected crotch. I can feel his heat, his bulge, his desire. I moan myself as I feel the electric tingle intensify as I squeeze my inner walls aching for the fill of him. My clit is bulging outside the protective, defensive barricade of my lower lips, every movement, now, a caress as the fabric of my soaked undies rubs with the rocking back and forth of my hips. His hand finds its way to my cunt, expertly as if he’s known me for centuries and starts a slow and hard figure eight on my clit. My entire body trembles and I hear myself beg “more ….”.

He lowers himself then, his soft warm lips following the same trail his hands had blazed across my flesh. Wet tongue flicks and then follows suit and the small, hard, figure eight resumes against my clit but with the added intensity of the intimacy of oral sex and the heat of his breath. His finger slides inside and starts a gentle simultaneous come hither motion. My head falls back and I collapse on the hood of the car, giving up any pretence of composure.

My head is reeling as emotions and sensations course through and awaken my body. I slide of the edge of the car and find myself face to face with his crotch. He has managed to pull of his belt but that’s all. I undo the button; I carefully pull down the zipper. I pull on the pant leg and watch the white expanse of his underwear bulge in front of my eyes in a pleasing way as his jeans fall in a dark pool of denim around his ankles. I find the opening in his tighty whities and pull his shaft out. The sun is out, and I watch as a single drop of precum appears on the tip like a clear pearl, a rain drop.

I look up into his eyes and his gaze is filled with intense desire, passion and strangely, the knowledge of who we are beyond our names and current bodies. I close my eyes then, breath him in, the scent of him, luxuriate in his presence, in the display being presented on this dusty country road. My mouth opens, my tongue wets my lips … I open my mouth wider still, cradling his balls in one hand and pulling him in closer with the other hand behind a thigh, I plunge and take it all in.

His knees almost buckle. The waiting and anticipation is getting to him. The warmth, the moisture, the suction, the rhythm, the sight of me, my breasts sitting outside my bra, my skirt around my waist, my hand playing with the folds of my inner most self, the sun in my hair … release, pull back, release, pull back…. Drops of saliva slide down my chin and drip drop into the dry soil along with my moisture. The sandy dirt begging as loudly for the wetness as his hot cock is begging for release in my mouth. He tenses and I stop.

I stand and lay back on the car, pulling him towards me. His cock is poised at the right height as I lift one leg up and place it on his shoulder. My finger never leaving my clit, he has an open passage before him.

He groans as he fights to not come just from the sight. The heat of his body against mine is almost unbearable. I feel it then, the pressure of his cock head against my slick cunt. There – on the brink – he pauses and holds. We stop breathing a moment. He presses slowly, but lingers at the entrance, slowly … so slowly the walls give way easily but the penetration is barely occurring. I can’t feel the rim of his pulpy head inside. The sensation is blissful and we savour it as my finger continues its little crop circles on my clit. I lift and he leans in and he takes me, fully, deeply and utterly. Tears of joy flow from my deep blue eyes and as they fall on the car, sizzle away in the heat. He pulls out and my fingers almost loose rhythm, we steady and start anew. He enters, I lift and press in, his hand holds me steady, my leg holding his weight, he pulls out, I circle on my clit… repeat.

We dance like this under the sun, on the deserted road for an eternity and a moment in time. The giddy frenzy comes upon us; we lose ourselves in the sensations of our union. Our breath catches, he tries to hold off and yet … I come and as my flood gates release and the damn is broken and he witnesses the total abandon of my body and my soul, he pumps a little harder, a slight aggressive deepness, the tingle in his balls causes a tensing in his core… and for a moment time stands still … hanging, hovering defying the laws of gravity suspended in time and we plunge together into the crazy free fall of ejaculation and orgasm.

He collapses over me, his half hard member still inside. Catching our breath we start to chuckle as the smell of evaporating sex juices hits our nostrils. He pulls up his pants, I pull down my skirt, button my blouse; he helps me with the last of the tiny buttons between kisses. He takes a step back, holds out his hand and says “come…” and I do.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

Fresh Paint

The key turned in the door, it opened and there they were. The freshly painted walls of a small but well laid out apartment. The view of the city’s skyline was breathtaking as the sun set with all the over-the-top flare of a cheesy romance novel.

It was as if nothing stood between me and the large river, the trees and the hustle and bustle of the crowd below as I looked down on the tiny ants that were the people going about their business on the sidewalk. Top floor exhilaration. Even if it wasn’t a penthouse, somehow this bird’s-eye view of the world made it feel more special and the unobstructed vista made the small space seem larger.

I made my way to the window, drawn like a moth to a flame by the scenery displayed in the warm orange glow, and stood in front of the window just soaking it all in. I heard the door th-thunk behind me in a pleasant yet firm manner, a jingle of keys on the counter, some geese in the sky practicing their flight pattern squawked and I smelled your gentle cologne moments before your arms wrapped around my waist. “Welcome home“. I smiled as your warm voice and tender words soaked through and started too knead away at the built up tension in my shoulders from days of stress.

It had been a long journey to get here with so many ups and downs and such tremendous uncertainty. Highs and lows had become our new normal. But we had made it.

There was still no furniture. We had bought it all but it had yet to be delivered by the multiple distributors. Much of what we owned was still in storage. I took it all in. These bare walls. Strangely even without a stitch of our personalities to adorn them the place did indeed feel like home.

I leaned back, trusting you with my full weight and just stood with you for many long minutes. I marveled that we were already so comfortable with each other that long drawn out silences weren’t awkward. Your lips found the soft spot near my ear and you kissed me pulling me in and a little up into you. For a moment I was overwhelmed by the deep love emanating from my heart and yours and that little doubt in my head in my mother’s voice “this shit doesn’t happen in real life wake up and smell the coffee!” was silenced. You hugged me as if sensing my internal release.

It took all of 2 minutes to walk around the place when we got to it. It had a small bedroom, living room, den and bathroom and a galley kitchen opening onto the living area. But everything was high end, the hardwood floors clean and the fixtures brand new. This wouldn’t be our final home but for now it would do. It would do very nicely.

Playfully I blitz stripped and let my clothing fall in a pile on the kitchen floor and started running around arms up in the air, my breasts thus lifted I shouted “running naked in the apartment!! Running naked in the apartment!! Running nak….” your own nude body collided with mine as you stood in my way. I giggled and dropped to the floor and took your erect penis in my mouth and sucked.

Not feeling very serious about it all, I moaned in a dramatic act that you knew was my way of poking fun at the porn industry. It included giving you bedroom eyes with an exaggerated fluttering of the eyelashes. You grinned, then laughed and picked me up off the floor. “Oh you….” I kissed you to stop the “cheeky monkey” from escaping your mouth.

Three steps and you had me on the kitchen counter. We had talked about this so often. The only thing missing was the sushi for you to eat off my body. Some day, some day soon. For now you let your hand glide over my stomach. I felt as if I was on an altar and yours to take as you would. Your fingers lingered over my breasts and you pinched my nipples a little harder than needed. My back arched up as I squeaked my surprise.

You leaned over, I watched in admiration the long sinewy muscles of your body, and I reached out and let my digits trail your tendon and muscle definition. You turned me on. Lost in the visual feast that is you, I was almost surprised when your full and warm lips parted me below and you took my clit between your teeth. I moaned and let go of the worries of my life.

Lost in the corporal pleasure of our play I did not even notice you shift from cunnilingus to full on penetrative sex. I don’t know if the lack of décor made the world around me a blank canvas, or the joy of us having our own place was more of an aphrodisiac than I had thought possible, but whatever the reason lost is the only word left to describe the moment. I knew not my body, or mind. I wasn’t me or thinking or concentrating … I was lost in the ecstasy. I came hard.

Dazed, you pulled me off the countertop and laid me down on the hardwood floor. It was … hard. But in the stupor of my afterglow it was a bed of down feathers. Your head on my lap and mine on yours, curled in a ball like a ying and a yang, we relaxed. We didn’t speak. There was no need. We dosed.

I found myself looking in great detail at your member. Its happy little tired head flopped against your inner thigh. I couldn’t resist, I reached out and caressed it lovingly. Before long it was back at attention and we started making love again. But comfort became an issue. No matter what we did, knees, elbows, or in my case some serious hardwood burn, would halt the pleasure. With a sweep of your hand you raised us both and walked us towards the bathroom.

The restroom was disproportionately large for such a small apartment. It was in fact a selling point. No cramped little space. The main feature was the 3 mirrors above the very large counter. The one’s on each end were at an angle following the odd curve of the wall. The result, I soon found out, was that once I was flat on my stomach with my one knee cocked and on the counter as well, the kink in the reflective surfaces meant that we could both see our love making at almost every angle.

At first I was shy about it; not liking to see my own face and expressions reflected so. But when I saw your body flexing and moving in the rhythm of your penetration, the in and slow out of your shaft entering and leaving my cunt, it was like watching us as the leads of our own porn. The entire situation sent me over the edge over and over again.

You plunged deep, deep inside of me. We watched as your prick disappeared and reappeared. I observed through glazed eyes as an orgasm hit my own body. Your core engaged and you curved inwards, your head flipped back, your butt cheeks clenched and I could almost see the tingling, erotic arousal that made your cock-head feel hotter with each movement. Cum poured from your flared tip with long, tired pumps. Your eyes closed and you inhaled as your hose drained the newly built load in tandem with your slow growl of pleasure.

You collapsed on me, our eyes met in the mirror and we both smiled, and then laughed.
“I’ll get the camera phone” … and off you went excitedly.

Oh yes, this was home.

Woven threads of our Sunday

A shared moment and thought – un-edited – not a story. A glimpse into the life of ….

Sunrise on Sunday morning…

Some love it for the guarantee of brunch, the paper and coffee in bed, for time with friends and family, or for the slow and easy pace the world seems to take on that second weekend day.

Some see it as the end of the week, I prefer it as the first day of mine. For me it is the promise of hours of slow, sweet fucking, and the launching of my soul to depart and float forward and mingle with his, that makes Sunday my “it” day.

You’ll find the phone off the hook, the “do not disturb” sign on the door and us laying entwined, sweat glistening off our bodies and my hand reaching down for his still hard cock.

Slowly and methodically I will stroke him, pressure building towards the head. Leaning over I will whisper secrets in his ear. Of those, only he is allowed to sit in judgment. He will smile, moan, and respond to every inch of me and me to every centimeter of him.

He and I will come and come again all day. As we loose track of time between the sheets, down the hall, on the kitchen counter and back again. We will eat with, on and from each other. Laugh, giggle, sigh, bathe and speak. The world can go to hell in a hand basket, we are nesting in our own heavenly bubble.

We pray at each others altars, connect and rejoice. A week of “I don’t have time” and “yeah hold on” has finished. We start anew – connect; find each other again, charge our emotional batteries. Sure a quickie will occur on other days, and yes we will make love certainly … but the slow, all day in bed fucking, that is our lazy us time makes Sunday our relationship nuclear power plant.

We will re-etch our scents, the lines of our bodies, sounds, smells and dreams onto our hearts and minds. Trade new secrets and old, share fresh fears and battle ancient demons. All the while our hands will wonder, our nakedness will unite us and our backs will arch as we come, bathing us in glistening nectar.

In the end I will feel my soul come back to me as we lie together in the moonlight wrapped in a blanket of the woven threads of our Sunday.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Under the Willow Tree

It cleared. After weeks of rain the sun had finally come out and everyone was taking advantage of it. Every patio was filled to capacity, every dog was being walked, every boater was sailing … every cyclist was biking.

We went for a hike followed by a bike ride, then stopped for lunch and snagged a spot on a patio. Pure luck was on our side when we managed to get the last two scoops of maple chocolate ice cream. The day was perfect.

We cycled home slowly. Full from our food and a little saddle sore from the day. Deciding to stretch things out a little we took a final walk in the park. The sun was going down and a sudden cloud cover came in. Fast. It was dark and threatening but we felt no fear.

We should have. The electricity in the air made the little hairs on our arms stand at attention. Moments later the sky’s opened and the deluge came down upon us. I was giddy and drunk on love and the sun of the day. Still sweaty from the activities, I twirled and danced under the rain.

We found ourselves alone … you stared at me enjoying my playful childlike behavior. I flashed my panties at you as I twirled around and ran away playfully screaming “catch me if you can!!”

I went under the willow tree.

There I pulled off my undies and spring loaded them between my fingers and with a Woosh and Thwang they hit you in the face square between the eyes. You growled and ran to me. I turned and stopped you in your pursuit by revealing my ass to you.

Stunned you froze in your tracks. Reverently you approached me and got on your knees to bury your nose inside.

Drip drip drip the drops fells around us and on us as the curtain of rain continued.

You stood and pulled out your member. Tried to slide it in but couldn’t get the angle right. Too high, too low. You grumbled in frustration, I snorted most un-lady like and tried to help. Finally you turned me around, picked me up in your arms, and kissing me with the same intensity as the storm you laid me down on the grass. The soil was a soft mattress under me. You took me then in simple missionary style.

The deep scent of the earth in my nose, the rain a cascade of sound around us … I lost myself in you and your desire. The water cooling my body, your heat keeping me pinned. We embraced life in the ecstasy of living freely and in the moment; the joy a long and rich vibration that reached deep inside only to explode and blanket us in warm and flushed flesh.

You collapsed as I came and you held me.

Then…

Sniff sniff snifffff ….. *woof?*

Oh shit ….

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

Nothing

I am not certain how it all came to an end.

… and perhaps that is not entirely true.

Perhaps I always knew it would.

Our story had been one of so many layers and passions. The stuff that movies are made of. Some clichés and some unique to us. All of it wrapped up in a wonderful sense of having found that lost soul mate. The one. That elusive other half.

It had started a year ago. I had been at the office and flirting outrageously with a colleague of mine and a little flustered from it all. I had returned to my desk to try and get some work done between cheeky e-mails and visits to his cubicle, when I heard the most lovely voice. I stood up and peered above the partition to see where it was coming from… this lovely lilt between English and French.

At first all I saw was glorious hair. Dark, black, lazy curls, white hairs giving it that suave and debonair feel so many find charming, including myself. He was talking to that colleague I had been flirting with so I invited myself over. As I approached he left, almost walking into me. Damn he smelled good. He excused himself with a light laugh and sauntered off. I sat myself down in my colleague’s spare chair and said “Who the fuck was that?”. He laughed nervously. Teetering between having fun with my obvious interest and feeling – what seemed to be – suddenly threatened. I didn’t care. I wanted answers.

Turns out we did a lot of the same things. Worked out at the same gym, had tea at the same coffee house and enjoyed the same events. After my colleague introduced us I had a reason to approach him. We spoke…. and spoke… and spoke. It was as if everyone else became inconsequential. It was like a thousand conversations that had been secretly dormant awoke at last with the sound of his voice and interest – finally I had a person to hear and so it gushed. We would talk about everything and nothing. More often something. Politics, art, work, health and nutrition and of our anxieties and dreams. We laughed, we got animated and passionate. We lost track of time to our employers’ annoyance.

People started talking but we didn’t care. After all “nothing” was going on between us.

Then one sunny day, when I was off but he had to work, I surprised him with a picnic. “Oh come on … you have to eat!“ I had said. He’d agreed as long as we did keep an eye on the time. That day everything changed. I stopped being the hunter and just inexplicably allowed myself to just … be. I opened up to him like a desert flower to sudden rain. He fell in love.

We fought it. Our situation was one that did not bode well for us. But the genuine affection, immense compatibility and simple joy we had in being in each others presence had been too much for us to resist. We succumbed and fell further and further. Months of hiding, whispering, teasing and intense love making. Moments of heady delight followed by deep sorrow. An emotional rollercoaster that drove us to insanity and fed our need to feel alive.

For a time we soared above it all. With the bright promise of a better future and then – the day it all crashed. The day he went back to her. Her depression a more binding set of chains than our love could free him from. He had to care for her… that day he gave up on life and chose death. That day his misplaced loyalty made him choose an existence of silent misery. That day I stopped respecting him. That day my heart broke forever.

Now here we are

… face to face.

For the last time.

I sit on the bed uncertain – a first in your presence. I am not sure why I am here. I am not sure why I agreed to this. The pain in my chest so intense I am convinced that you can see my heart actually bleeding there, leaving a pool of red hot blood at your feet. I feel like a sacrifice.

You are awkward but somehow determined to have this “farewell love making”. Your hand reaches out and caresses my face. I sob at the feelings that surge forward. I hold that hand in place. Not wanting to let go yet hating it at the same time, remembering how much joy that gesture had provided only days ago. Your fingers wash away my tears. Your own eyes shedding their fair share.

You hold me then, tightly to you. I pound my fist angrily over and over leaving a bruise above your heart. You let me. You deserve it. I cry out your name in a lament, I kiss you, bite your lip so hard it bleeds. You take it. I pull your t-shirt off above your shoulders. I look at this body I have come to love and adore. My heart shatters anew as I realize that I shall never touch it, caress it and have it’s weight crush my breasts again.

I pull off my own blouse. You reach for me. Pull me towards you. You whisper in my ear words I do not whish to hear. No… I will not forgive you. Not now. Not now. Your caress is familiar and my body responds. I feel betrayed by it. My heart screams at my body:

“ How can you let yourself feel this way, how can you want him when he doesn’t want me!?”

You lay me down. I let you kiss me, your hands and lips know what to do. You know every button to push and every caress that will elicit a response. You have become the expert driver of my pleasuring. I close my eyes and try to block out the pain. I can’t.

I let you do this. To punish myself for letting the fool within believe. For falling for it all. For the false hope I clung to. Letting you do this is like flagellation. I let you. I let you ease your finger into me, I let you take your time tasting the freshness of my young cunt. I let you drive your tongue into the lump of my clitoris and let you feel my hips instantly jerk with abandon.

I let you push me to my hands and knees. I feel you behind me. I let you bring the flared shaft up to the moist lips. With your steady, even drive I let you enter me for the last time. I let your hands cup my swaying breasts and I work your cock at a steady rhythm. The inner walls shudder with the final betrayal of my body, as an orgasm floods me.

But you are not done. My punishment for my folly not over. You throw all your weight behind each jamming thrust. At last, on a river of jerking, pumping, heaving climax …. It is over.

We lay for a time frozen in place. As you hold me to you. Falling on our sides, my face buried in your chest, you say the last words that hit the final nail in the coffin. “I love you”.

With that you get up, dress and walk away towards the hotel door. You stop, looking back. Tears in your eyes you mumble “I’m so sorry”. And you leave.

Lying on the bed, I almost feel like I’ve just let you rape me. My self respect shattered, my heart never to be fixed. At first nothing. No more tears. Then as I feel the last residue of your juices leak out like a last bitter farewell a wail of agony rips through my throat and the tears freely flow from me. I am broken, pathetic and alone. The crisp white sheets of the hotel bed suddenly a thousand knives slicing my skin and soul. This once joyous place of reunion now a prison of shame.

I was the other woman. Now … I am nothing.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

Part II – Cottage Country

Startled at the man’s reaction, one hand on his softening manhood, frozen in place like a deer caught in the headlights; David couldn’t go far with his shorts still around his ankles. He hastily fumbled to make himself decent. Sue drew a sharp breath and took a step back hitting her head on a low branch. Yet … neither left, eager for the last moments of magic. They stood mutely in the shadow of the large tree watching the scene draw to a close.

The man stepped away from the table and offered his hand to his lover. She extended hers and, holding her gently, he pulled her upright so that she sat with her legs dangling off the edge of the picnic table.

Her body was resplendent in the moonlight. David noted that even though she was now upright, her breasts remained firm, forgotten by gravity. Her silhouette was stunning. With her laying on the table he had not been able to fully appreciated how her hip to waist ratio was in fact almost too perfect for words. If he hadn’t known better he would have sworn she was airbrushed. He shook his head feeling once again inadequate as he gazed at this couple and the scene very much like one from ancient mythology; the Gods having chosen the woman they wanted and consumed by desire they had found a way to become one with her.

They moved with such grace that even as they held each other for a moment the atmosphere was still highly charged. The Lady in question pulled her summer dress to cover her modesty and the “God” hiked up his shorts breaking the illusion at last with this very human gesture. The definition of his torso somehow exaggerated by the exertions, however, was something that could not be ignored, and David felt a pang of annoyance as he heard Sue draw in a breath of appreciation. Then, he gave himself a mental slap on the back of the head for the hypocrisy of that emotion.

A few moments later, the spell somewhat broken, David relaxed his grip on Sue’s hand and despite the cool of the evening, their hold was slippery with perspiration. Sue turned and standing on tip toe whispered into his ear. “Come on, let’s go. I think he saw us …. and we need to get back to Gemma .” She led him carefully towards the path and they walked silently to their cottage; their minds full of what they had just witnessed.

At the foot of the verandah she went ahead of him and stopped on top of the steps, turning so she was on a level with him for once. She looked him straight in the eyes, his warm kind eyes, and lifted her hands to hold his face. She leaned and gently kissed him on the lips. David responded, his hands on her small waist pulling her closer, his own mouth working and savoring the taste of her on his own. He breathed in deeply, enjoying, that now familiar perfume, they had bought together at the duty free shop just a few days ago.

They kissed a little longer, their tongues softly darting and entangling with each other’s. She moved her arms so they wrapped around his neck and leaned against him, trusting him with her weight. He pulled her closer, his hands now on the soft flesh at the top of her legs and only the thin linen of her dress separating them. She desperately wanted to feel his touch on her. She hesitated for a moment before jumping up, lifting herself one leg at a time, so she could wrap them tightly around his waist. There was something about the gentle giant in him she had begun to fully appreciate.

They had tried only twice to make love. The first time had been a disaster as Gemma had woken in a nightmare and by the time they had calmed her down the moment had passed. But it had been good to fall asleep and wake in the morning together. Having a toddler in the house, however, meant there was little opportunity for anything first thing in the morning.

The second time had been a little more successful. They had not been interrupted but David hadn’t managed to deal with penetration. His guilt at being with “another woman” had overwhelmed him. He was so depressed about not being able to see it through that it had stopped any further attempts.

But somehow this time felt different. They were both relaxed, with no risk of being interrupted, except perhaps by the night life, and they were both greatly affected by the scene they had witnessed. His kisses began to feel more urgent and his hands tugged at the material of her dress. Sue shuddered with excitement, her eyes closed, her mouth moist, her tongue swirling and teasing over his. His fingers circled close to the fine trimmed hairs and she willed him to be a little more adventurous. She purred as they kissed and this seemed to be enough as his fingers slipped inside the cotton and elastic of her panties and found her yielding and damp edges. It had been sometime since she too had experienced such erotic sensuous attention and the stimulation seemed to open a flood gate.

She broke off kissing his mouth and as she pecked and licked his left ear she softly whispered to him that if he carried on like that she would quickly loose it. She wanted them to have that special moment. He nodded silently and taking one step at a time with her still wrapped around him, his left hand holding her ass in place, he walked up and across the verandah to the cottage door. He found the handle and gently opened it and carried her through.

The fire was still gently crackling and emitting its soft light bathing the room in a romantic glow. David thought briefly of how imprudent it had been to leave Gemma and this fire behind. He chastised himself internally nearly ruining the moment.

He shook his head … and kneeled by the blaze and let Sue lay on the rug. Her eyes bright, and sparkling, never for a moment looking away. Her hand smoothed away furrows that had developed on his forehead. “Come here my sweet” she said softly, as she pulled him so he lay next to her. She unbuttoned the front of her dress and took his hand so that he cupped her breast. They were small, with what David thought, was the most lovely slope to the tip of perky and slightly over large nipples. In their succulent perfection they begged to be sucked. Hungrily he wrapped his mouth around one and did so.

Sue let out a moan … low and guttural. David was certain that she was almost ready to come. He slowed his endeavors wanting, like her, to let the moment be one they would never forget.

He took great, slow pleasure in undressing her, then himself. They enjoyed the exploration of their bodies by the soft warm glow of the fire. Hands shook a little, and sighs were dished out in spades. Sue could not ignore the large and “demanding attention” presence between David’s thighs. She noted again, with a certain amount of appreciation and apprehension, the girth of his shaft. Her tiny frame and his giant one might prove to be a challenge.

David’s hands ran up and down Sue’s back, getting comfortable in the simple joy of being nude together. “Happy naked time.” Sue giggled … quoting Gemma from a few days ago. David’s deep and honest chuckle finally destroying the last barrier left standing between them. He hovered over her now, slowly going down … down… in a trail of soft but urgent kisses. Her thighs opened a little further as he reached the sweet spot and lifted her ass off the carpet bringing her to his lips as if to drink from a chalice. The gesture so reverent Sue’s breath caught in her lungs her body trembling.

He parted her further with his tongue, lowering her back down. She was so drenched she knew her fluids would leave a healthy wet spot. He placed himself between her legs, his member hovering over her small, yet aching entrance and freezed. She bit her lip. “The point of no return” he whispered … her small hands reached for his hips, guiding him a tiny bit closer. He looked down at her. His eyes were filled with tears, a look of utter pain and pleasure writ across his face. Sue held still … very – very still. Waiting for him to be ready.

David’s mind was going a thousand miles an hour. He hovered. His desire almost as painful as the ache in his heart. He finally looked outwards from himself to Sue. Their eyes connected again. He saw all the compassion and tenderness in her, he felt her petite hands holding him. The heat from her crotch a welcome like he had never known. She smiled, nodded …. She understood. She was waiting … he wanted this ….. Her hand pulled him in infinitesimally closer.

She is so beautiful there, open to me, vulnerable yet strong in her patience. She’s a woman I can love … she’s a woman I do love . The realization hit him hard, and in that moment, all guilt disappeared.

Sue noticed a shift in his expression and body language. Her heart swelled as she saw in him that he had at last let go and he was now hers. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, and she tried to hold back the sob threatening to take over. She pulled him in, wanting to lose herself in the throws of their union. He complied at last. The wide and thick head of his penis finally touched her, she pushed up, lifting to accommodate. He was still hard, very hard and eager. He pushed, almost violent in the penetration but stopped as she let out a whimper.

Afraid of ripping her, David slowed down. He pushed in, waited. Pushed further and waited. A little further and waited. Sue was so wet that the only friction was from the incredible tightness of the fit. It felt so good he almost lost it right then and there. The waiting was as much for him as it was for her to adjust to his girth. Finally he was in, all the way to the hilt. He pulled back gently, and the moan of pleasure that filled the room came from them both.

He made love to her then. Slow and steady. He watched her carefully. Marveled at the abandon she showed, the pleasure that was so obviously being had. She made him feel like the king of all men as she wiggled, and sighed and arched her back to take him – all of him – in. He couldn’t hold much longer but tried. It had been so long, the feeling was so intense he realized that he just could not stop the tidal wave from crashing, the tsunami from hitting and in a roar of almost rage and desperate violent cry for life he thrust deep within her and came.

She screamed from pain and joy as she joined him moments later and the two forgot about neighbors, strangers, Gemma in the next room, the past and the world around them. For a moment time was suspended and the only thing real was the pleasure being given and received.

He collapsed next to her, and grabbed her to keep them connected and buried his face into her small frame and cried. Large tears of release, erased what seemed like an eternity of pain. And he found himself drowning now in the promise of new happiness, of new beginnings.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

Part I – Cottage Country

David sat in his chair, enjoying a glass of single malt whiskey, letting the light of the fire play on the liquid, turning it different shades of amber. Beauty could be found anywhere he mused. It was a lovely summer evening, the stars were out, the sky bright after a day of sunshine. It was perfect. Even a cool breeze afforded some relief from what could have otherwise been an oppressively hot night.

He had built a small fire in the hearth, more for ambience than heat. He sat there looking at the young woman across from him dozing, and listened to the loons cry out as the sun set. It made him chuckle, reminding him of that final scene of The Walton’s, like listening to a roll call. It was beautiful, eerie and familiar. He’d been listening to that sound every summer for the last forty years. It never stopped getting to him; tugging at his heart. It was his reason for coming here year after year and leaving London and the UK behind for a full two months and why he had never had the heart to sell his parents cottage.

Things had changed little over time in this place. In fact he and his family were more or less the newbie’s to the area with many cottages having been handed down from generation to generation. He knew his neighbors’ well and they all knew him. They knew his little girl, Gemma, now fast asleep in the room next door, and of the tragic death of her mother in childbirth. They had helped as much as they could, mostly by staying away and giving him the space he needed.

He had been replaying in his mind, the series of events that was the whirlwind that had brought Sue to join him here so unexpectedly this summer. He looked at her, shaking his head, amazed. He had met her only weeks ago, feeding the ducks with his little one in the park after work one day. He was remembering the look on her face as he had presented her with the plane tickets, when he heard a scream from next door.

The properties were not close to one another, the sound therefore startled him out of his reverie quickly. He knew the place was often rented out to city folk looking to “play country cottage” for a weekend and as such, the tenants often did not know the “ins and outs” of country living. This was the real forest. Things here could be dangerous.

He decided to go and investigate – just in case. After all, if he let out a scream like that he’d hope for someone to come and check on him. He woke Sue and sprayed on some extra bug repellant, grabbed the baby monitor and left the cottage in direction of the racket. He walked carefully, kicking himself for not thinking to bring a flashlight along, pulling on Sue’s tiny hand behind him. He saw the glow of a large bonfire a few hundred feet away and walked towards it. The closer he came the more he heard the noises. Low moans and occasional screams. He suddenly wasn’t sure if he should be approaching unarmed. He signaled for Sue to wait there and walked ahead.

He ventured closer to the property line and, crouching to get under a large branch he spotted them and froze. Taking a step back he shook his head, trying to get rid of the image that was branded there forever but couldn’t . He wanted more… wanted to see more. Slowly, he nestled lower and lifted the branch just enough to afford him a better view. As he did so a loud moan filled the air again. Sue startled him as she put her hand on his shoulder and crouched down next to him to see what had caught his attention. He felt strangely excited, knowing that “they” were ignorant of his presence. He looked at Sue’s face for a moment, her jaw had dropped and her tongue licked her lips and a small smile crossed her face. With that stamp of approval he took in the scene before him.

There “they” were, two lovers, in the most unusual light. The cold white moon bathing them from above and the warm red and orange glow from the fire lighting them from below. He saw the man first, could not look away. He was tall, lean and all muscle. Thick hair on his head and no place else, with a swimmers body and a large cock that was slamming into a woman he so obviously adored. His ass, clenching and relaxing as he impaled her in perfect harmony with the sound of the wooden picnic table creaking under the strain of the two of them, the sexy sound of the slap slap slap of flesh on flesh echoing in the clearing. The man’s eyes were locked on his lovers, utterly focused. His virility was almost intimidating.

He held her legs over his shoulders, his face at times turning to kiss a dainty foot resting there on his strong and defined muscles. His rhythm was fast but steady, this was no dash to the finish line, he intended to make her squirm… and she did.

Her beautiful face, with large, almond shaped eyes, reflecting the night back at her partner, was a study in love. David had seen that look before; his throat tightened at the memory. He remembered what is was like to be loved like that. He suddenly felt guilty for watching and a pang of jealousy filled his heart. Loneliness followed. Just then, Sue’s hand hovered over his, hesitant a moment and then took it firmly and gave it a squeeze. He turned to see her looking at him – she knew and he felt a swell of affection for her fill that void. He nodded, squeezed her hand back and gave her a big, wicked grin. She smiled in return as they continued to observe.

The woman lay on the picnic table that almost seemed like an altar, her long hair falling in a cascade of curls off the edge, like Rapunzel throwing it down to her prince. Her breasts were free of the small summer dress that had at one point been buttoned up and now lay open revealing the soft sun kissed flesh below. Two fully blossomed breasts held firm, solid ground as they hovered with their pointed, pink nipples capping each end. David’s mouth watered as he imagined the succulent, soft flesh of the two glowing mounds under the lapping of his tongue, the sucking of his lips. Her stomach was flat and strong, but not skinny like those magazine models. She had that softness that made a man melt. Her legs were long and muscular, and would tense as the pleasure coursed through her.

David’s eyes followed the curve of her slender, supple waist, the mounding swell of full hips and the uppermost half of two round, glaring white, tender buns. He could not stop looking at her ass. It was spectacular, there really was no other word for it. He found himself entranced by it’s sight. As her partner moved inside her, as they gazed at one another, the movement and rhythm would change the lighting. One moment cool moonlight the next fire hot… angels or demons – not so obvious. David reached down into his pants. His erect penis, straining in his jeans, twitched, and his legs tightened. He released his own flared and hard cock and wrapped it in the familiar grasp of his hand; biting his lip to keep from moaning himself.

He continued to watch the scene unfolding before him, knowing it was wrong but staying anyway. Sue had followed suit and was masturbating quietly having found a tree trunk to lean against for support. David realized his knees were getting tired and found a log and made himself comfortable. He and Sue exchanged a grin that said it all: Their fault for doing it outdoors – and being so bloody loud about it !

The man was sweating now coating his spectacular body and letting it shine in the light. He looked more like one of those Gods from mythology than a man; and here he was claiming one of the human beauties as his own or in sacrifice. With a hand on each side of her hips, he slowly and carefully fired his cock inside with quick, deep thrusts. She trembled and twisted her ass in gleeful reception. Deeper, deeper he pushed, liquid oozed down and David swore he saw a few glimmering drops fall off the edge of the wooden slab.

She bent more, bringing her knees to her head, and reached back to grab his swinging sack of testicles with her hand. She rolled them tenderly in her fingers as he sent his member into wet lips through the foaming juices around the rim of her cunt. Her beautiful face started to contort into different facial expressions bordering between pain and pleasure, her moan filled the forest and got louder and louder. The bats overhead seemed to fly in harmony with her song. Then she screamed loud, total and her body arched, her back lifting right off the table as her lover screamed her name to the heavens and flung his head back in animal ecstasy as his climax joined hers and rose from the balls she held, semen coursing upward into the lengthy rod and burning its way to burst from the end to claim her fully with his seed.

At that moment David spilled his own onto the forest floor. Holding his breath so as to not make a sound. He looked down at the puddle glistening in the moonlight – then at Sue, whose flushed face spoke of release. His heart thumped in his ears. He looked up one last time and saw the lovers entwined, now whispering sweet words to each other. The woman’s eyes still closed her breathing still labored her arms around her man‘s neck possessively. Just then, the man turned his head ….. Looked straight at David… raised an eyebrow and smiled before turning back to his lover and kissing her with passion as his flaccid penis left her warmth and dribbled the juice of their love making onto the soil below.

© Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or
duplication of this material without express and written permission
from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts
and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to
Fantasia Lillith and Pillow Talk with appropriate and specific
direction to the original content.

Welcome Home

I stood there at the arrivals gate, barely able to contain myself. Every fiber of my being ready to burst forth and splatter you with love the instant you walked though those horrid gates. You had texted me moments ago “@ customs”. Close, so close I could taste it. Taste your lips on mine, the comfort of your arms around me at long last. Oh my love it had been too long, far too long.

bzz bzz

I looked at my blackberry “some sort of delay – sorry love – Patience – just a little longer”. I died a small death. NO! no …no…no…. I cradled the little black electronic device to my chest, hugging it. Come on … come on!

You had gone on this adventure trek in the desert to physically push yourself to the limits. I had wished to go with you but had been unable to convince my boss to let me have the time off. I was needed at the office. Exploding in anger, I had said a few things that could have been career limiting.

With a last hug you warned me that you’d have no cell service out there, in the middle of nowhere. Brightly and jokingly I responded that I’d survive … but would you? I had not realized then, how crushing the silence would be. Day after day I stared at the little black screen, willing it to buzz and do it’s little dance. Waiting for a sign that you were thinking of me, loving me even from miles away. I felt you in my heart, thought of you obsessively and looked at the picture of us on my screensaver remembering out goodbye and your warning. You had known how affected I would be. The one left behind.

How I had missed you. The ache and longing so profound I could only compare it to mourning a loss. The void that had been created with your departure was a warning however, that I had become far to dependent on you. At first I felt abandoned. Lashing out like a petulant child. Angry at your having left without me. Talking to friends with long “What if’s” and “it’s not fair’s”. Then I settled. Pouting. Miserable. Hurt. A few days later I snapped out of it. It’s not who I am to dwell and engage in self pity marathons. I’m not this person! Who the hell is this? I reclaimed my independence, found satisfaction in knowing you loved me and had come into my life. I kept busy, not to flee loneliness, but because it’s in my nature. I saw neglected friends, attended some events and relaxed in the quiet meditation of solitude.

I was walking to the gym, as per usual for that time of day, when the no longer so familiar bzz bzz resonated in my pocket. My heart soared! The imposed cone of silence had been lifted! Frantically I fumbled with the keyboard, typing in my password, trying to get to the sweet words, my eyes and heart thirsty as if they had been the ones in the desert sands. I sank to my feet giddy with tears of relief. “You would have loved it. Love you. MISS YOU. Can’t wait to see you. Home soon.” I responded frenetically, afraid of renewed silence. But the fear was pointless as the flow of texts resumed, your love flowing towards me in a torrent of funny, sexy and playful messages.

Now, here I was quivering with anticipation. Biting my lower lip, standing on my toes to look over the people in front of me. Not wanting to miss the split second you came into view.

And you did.

You braced yourself as you saw me hurdling towards you, dropping your bags and bending you knees, arms open wide. A huge smile on your face and the fatigue of the trip gone in a flash. We collided. My legs wrapped around your waist, my arms around your neck a shower of kisses made you dizzy. You turned us around and around as our lips finally met. The world melted away, there was only you and me and utter silence broken only by the rhythm of our hearts beating. You stumbled a little finding a wall to brace me up against. Our kiss continued, long, intense, deep and soulful. A thousand “hello’s”, a million “I missed you’s” and an endless series of “I’m so happy to be with you’s” were exchanged.

You let me slide down, still kissing me, not wanting to break our renewed connection. Your hands cupped my face holding me there a moment, frozen, making me feel so very precious. You pulled me in close, an arm wrapped around my back and waist, the other around my shoulders. A protective cocoon. My digits played with the bottom of your t-shirt searching for skin. Not finding it I pulled your top out of your shorts, at last my palms glided along your lats, your abs, your lower back. You sucked your breath in, your body tensing at the delight of my cool fingertips making their way up like the child’s song “itsy bitsy spider”. You pulled away reluctantly, feeling more than a twitch in your shorts… we stared at each other almost not believing.

“harrumph …. Get a fucking room you two!”

We burst out laughing at the grumpy soul that had spewed those words like venom. But we had the antidote, love coursing in our veins.

I grabbed your smaller backpack and you followed me to the car. The whole way home, a happy silence between us. I did want to hear all about your trip but right then I just required the stillness – to soak up the pleasure of you, sitting there, next to me. You seemed to know this intuitively. Your hand on my knee, playing, caressing, stroking. My body responded, I sighed, as your hand traveled a little higher. My inner thigh hyper sensitive to your gentle back and forth. We had often fooled around in the car, but it wasn’t a sexual energy that was between us this time.

I parked. We made it to the elevator. We kissed so long that we missed it and had to wait for it to come back down again. We didn’t mind as we indulged in the pure ecstasy of each others presence. Down the hall we walked, I chattered happily now and you just smiled as you watched me act like a hunting dog, going up ahead, turning around, coming back and leading the way again.

The key turned in the door. We walked in. The bags dropped. Home.

That’s when the world outside was no longer a witness. You grabbed me, pulled me in so close I could barely breath. “ I missed you” you whispered rapidly breathless. I knew you wanted a shower but my hands were already getting rid of your clothing with a different plan in mind. Every inch of me ached with the need for us to unite again in the most intimate way possible. Your kiss was long and sensual. Love emanating from you like a force field, inviting me – and only me – in.

We dropped to the floor, headless of the mess we were leaving behind us, or caring that only a few feet away a comfortable bed beckoned. Our eyes could not leave one another, our hands touching, sometimes soft and tender at other moments frenzied. Naked flesh cried out elated at the touch of skin against skin, arms hugged, legs squeezed, mouths traveled, tongues licking and chests heaving with pleasure and in the blink of an eye there you were poised, looking down at me, my legs wide in welcome, your cock entering me slowly, pushing the walls apart softly as you slid inside. We gasped as our bodies at last united. A tear rolled down our cheeks in unison. Slowly we made love.

Hips thrusting, cunt clasping and not letting go, cock buried and never wanting to leave, hairs on our arms reaching out to the heavens, moans and cries of pleasure resonating and bounding against the walls… it did not take long for our bodies to explode in united, thrilling and total abandon to one another. The joy of our reunion manifested in an orgasm that flowed with, to and from each other. Too soon, it was over.

“Welcome home” I sighed as you lay on my chest, my fingers curling in your hair my thighs sticky from our passion. With your arms wrapped around me you replied, panting softly “never apart this long … again… ever“. Your lips found mine and you kissed me deeply, less hurried, starting the play again. I smiled . All was well with the world again. My man was home.

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