TheGet_Together

People walk to and fro, reminding me of a T.S. Elliot poem. It’s been such a fun day to meet
these people for the first time, to put faces to the names I’ve seen on my computer screen for
years. How generous of you and your wife to offer your guest-house, so all of us from out of
town can stay the night, before returning home. Conversations ebb and flow around me of
writing plots, verb tenses, point of view shifts all discussed a million times before in the
electronic world. Spouses are introduced and discreetly judged. I watch you circulating among
your guests, playing the role of the perfect host. I see them responding to your gentle humor.
I have waited for this time and now it’s here, I’m living it.

Our minds have spent many hours talking, cybering, getting to know each other. Finally the
time has come for our bodies to play. My skin tingles; supersensitive, so very aware of you
now we‘re in the same room. Maybe this is the sixth sense they often speak of, one that keeps
me aware of your proximity. My breathing has become shallow, almost panting at times. I can’t
seem to take a deep breath but I do what I can to control it. I know this is a response to my
excitement. I sense an electricity in the air, like the static that’s in a house on a cold winter’s
day. If you darken the room, you can see the sparks fly when you touch something metallic.
There is a tension between us, like an invisible string. Can others feel it? Do they think my
behavior odd? I try very hard to contain it, hold it inside me, keep it in check, but I’m not very
good at that.

I can’t help but wonder if you share any of these feelings. You walk about, conversing,
laughing, your face a mask, seeming to hide your true feelings. I can’t tell what, if any,
emotion is coursing through you. I envy you this talent. You keep your distance, rarely making
eye contact with me. Is this your way of concealing what’s happening here, or is it your
defense mechanism? Are you fighting against me, wishing we’d never started this?

Goodnights are being said; the others wander off to find their beds, leaving us alone. I stand
near the back wall, shivering with anticipation, as you cross over the space between us. Your
hand traces the outline of my face and reaches up to touch my hair. Bending down, your lips
meet mine. For tonight I’m frozen in time. I pray, like never before, for time to stop, but of
course it doesn’t, it can’t. All I can do is feel you, the heat of your body, each place where it
touches mine. Your tongue finds it’s way between my parted lips. I taste you for the first time.
You’re sweet, like the wine we had for supper. A thought enters my mind, what do I taste of?
Does desire have a taste?

Your arms move down from my face, pulling me in close, your lips never leaving mine. I must
be breathing but I’m not aware of it. I close my eyes, trying with every ounce of my being to
savor each second, knowing I can never feel this again. There can be only one first time. I
want our first time to be imprinted on my brain, each touch, each response, so I can replay it
later. I’m so very much aware that later will come. We’ve already decided that. We must part
company after tonight, to be separated by hundreds of miles. I want to remember everything,
how you felt, tasted, smelled.

You push me back against the wall, your pelvis grinding slightly against mine. I can feel your
hardness. I thrill to the knowledge that I have aroused you. My clit swells in response. I feel
myself grow damp between my legs. My thighs are slippery from my leaking juices. My breasts
press hard against your chest. I want to scream; touch me. In silent answer your hands fumble
under my blouse and I feel that first caress of your palm. Your fingers find my erect nipple,
squeezing. I arch my back, hips pressed tight against you. You increase the pressure with
your fingers. I can feel the vibrations of moaning on my lips. Your other hand finds my right
breast. Fingers pinch each nipple, until I cannot stand it a moment longer. My pussy
convulses, juices flowing. My knees sag for a second, weakened by my desire. I grab at your
arms to keep me upright. You hold me, murmuring in my ear.

My brain won’t register what you’re saying but it doesn’t matter. Our bodies speak for
themselves. Should I try to conceal the strength of my reaction to you? Do I scare you? Do
you worry I will become a demanding lover, asking for that which you cannot give? My
thoughts are all jumbled. I’m at the point where they don’t make sense. All I can do is react,
respond to you, and hope you understand.

You manage to guide us to the couch, lowering me down onto the cushions. Standing in front
of me, you take off your shirt and kneel between my legs. I bunch up the yards of fabric in my
skirt, exposing my cunt. It’s framed with a white lace garter belt, garters and white stocking
tops. There are no panties to bar your entrance. Words are not needed. My legs part,
opening wide, to give you access to my core. Unashamedly I lean back, spread wide for you,
and wait. You stare down at me for a moment. I can only hope you are not disappointed at
what you see. Slowly you lower you face to my pussy. I feel a gentle lick.

Your lips move to engulf my swollen clit. It welcomes the heat of your mouth, pushing against
you, urging you to take it all in. You and only you know how much I need this.

After a few seconds, cool air replaces the heat of your mouth, as you thrust your tongue
inside me. How good it feels. I wiggle, shifting on the cushions, trying to get as much of you
inside of me as I can. No matter what the outcome of this night, you will never know how much
I wanted this, how I longed for it, ached for it, dreamed of it. To be here now, with you is worth
whatever the price I will have to pay. Your tongue withdraws to be replaced by your fingers.
Three of them slide carefully into me while the tip of your tongue flicks on my clit. I cannot
bear it a moment longer. My ass pushes down, my pussy squeezes those wonderful fingers
and I come and come and come. In the back of my mind somewhere is the thought; I hope my
juices will not stain your cushions, but I cannot staunch the flow. You stand. Opening my eyes,
I see you fumbling with the zipper on your pants. I reach up to help. Between us we mange to
take off your pants and briefs. For the first time I’m face to face with your beautiful cock. I
touch it with my fingers in delight, as you throw your head back. How lovely you are, more so
than in my dreams, more than your pictures ever revealed. How lucky I feel that you have
chosen to share it with me tonight.

Leaning forward, I wrap my mouth around you, sucking you in, deep. I love your taste, a
combination of male musk and pre-cum. With one hand I grasp the base of your cock, with the
other I cup your balls. My mouth moves up and down on your shaft. I hope this is how you like
it. I want this to be good for you. I want to be pleasing to you, to make you feel the same as I
do. Maybe I am succeeding, the pearl drops form faster on your tip. With a groan you pull
away from my hands. I lay back on the cushions and hold my pussy lips open for you. You
thrust into me, hard. I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out, not from pain but from
pleasure. I want us to be joined together for as long as it can last. I feel myself melting under
your movements. My pussy is on fire as it sends out juices, sucking you in. One last thrust
from you slams the base of your cock hard against my clit. The spasms hit me, seeming to go
on and on, in never ending waves. As if in answer your cock swells, then bursts, filling me with
hot cum.

I feel your cock slowly leaving. In a moment you collapse on the couch beside me. I turn and
cuddle up in your arms. There are no words for this. Even you, with the liquid voice that melts
my soul, have nothing to offer to break the silence. Wrapped together we let our juices
mingle. The whole room fills with the smell of a desire aroused and then sated.

The ceiling overhead creaks loudly, likely just the house settling for the night in the cold air.
But it is enough to remind us we cannot stay here together. The rising sun, to say nothing of
your guests, must not find us locked in a lovers’ embrace. Now the sadness begins, as clothes
are pulled on and straightened, the good night kisses given and received, the last lingering
touches as we part. But there is no regret, no matter the price, never will there be regret for
our coming together.

Copyright 2006, by Aspire
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