Do You? (Part II)
To read Part I, click HERE.
Do you remember having me bent over on the bed? I was already exhausted, thighs hurting having bounced on top of you quite a while. We were sweaty, breathing heavily. I could see you approach me from behind in the mirror. You grabbed a handful of my hair to arch my back. I tilted my hips up to you, so that your slippery cock would slide right into me. You let the tip of it run the length of my pussy, resting the whole of your erection on my wet lips. And, then you slipped into my ass. It burned and ached. Sweaty chills travelled up my spine. My clit felt like it was on fire. I could swear I felt the moisture dripping from me. You thrust again and again into me, using grip in my hair to increase the force of you within me. We both came in minutes. You rolled to my side, exhausted and spent. I collapsed on my stomach. We fell asleep.
Do you remember that we awoke holding each other? Our sweaty bodies must have gotten cold and sought each other’s warmth.
Do you remember the anthology you brought for me, your book lover? We read from it that day. You read first:
“Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Though by the Idian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood…�?
*Andrew Marvell, “To His Coy Mistress�?
I sat there, watching you read, letting your tone and pauses seep into me. I wanted to hear that poem in your voice every time I reread it alone. It’s your turn, Lola. You smiled and handed me the book. I browsed the index, and then a few pages surrounding my choice. What to pick that may not turn the mood from two lovers to the marriages they both are in? Tricky…
“My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love;
And though the safer sort our deeds reprove,
Let us not weigh them. Heaven’s great lamps do dive
Into their west, and straight again revive;
But, soon as once set is our little light,
Then must we sleep one ever-during night…”
*Catullus, “Let Us Live and Love”
I confess to this day it is still on my bedside table, corners tattered and worn, the cover long since gone. I rarely pick it up now, but glance to it every night just acknowledging it’s there. It soothes me.
Do you remember the beach we walked to after dinner? It was completely deserted. The lights from homes close to the shore lit only the crest of the waves. It was as lightning with its thunderous crash. We walked to the lifeguard building at the center of the beach. The roaring sea was completely black. But, the power of the sound it created left me feeling suddenly very far from home. I felt strangely isolated, even though you and I had just shared an intimacy that I’d rarely known. To distract me and us, I straddled you, leaning against the lifeguard lookout. I began kissing you, slid your shorts down and sank onto you. I wrapped my arms around your head, letting you bury your face in my breasts. We rocked back and forth against each other. I leaned back to let you rub my clit. We both watched your cock move in and out of me and then our eyes met. You grabbed the center of my bra and pulled me to you. “I want your lips,�? you whispered. We kissed, long and deep, lips parting only briefly as I moved on top of you. Your cock stiffened and you came. We sat like that for a while, holding each other.
Do you remember walking back to our cars together? It had been a long day. We spent much time together and it was beautiful. For the first time, I felt comfortable wanting no next step. I didn’t need to hear “I’ll call you” or “I’ll see you soon.” I was happy just in that moment.
Do you remember that you touched my face and said, “Don’t cry.” God, I wanted to smack you for that. But, I decided to smile instead. I was nowhere near crying and hearing you say that just sounded arrogant and funny.
Do you look back on those silly lovers and think they had no idea what they were doing?
Do you remember even now, on dark days, that I love you?
love, sex, affair, intimacy, beach, erotica
January 12th, 2007 at 7:10 pm
[...] Read Part II. [...]
January 12th, 2007 at 8:28 pm
Lola — wow!
It’s all in the details. The peach bra hanging from the rear view mirror. The worn copy of the anthology on the night stand. The forgiving feminine reaction to the momentary masculine arrogance.
This was beautifully written.
January 12th, 2007 at 9:24 pm
Wow Lola, twice in the same day you’ve made me hard, and we’re barely in the same time zone.
That statement was coursely masculine, I realize upon re-reading it, and quite in contrast to the beauty of La Fille’s comments. Maybe it’s true, a man is bound to remain a man, no matter how much the world wishe’s he’d get in touch with his feminine side.
Your poetry reminds me of something I read once whle in bed, to a lover who, like you, craved poetry. A portion of the poem, below, came to me upon reading your tale.
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever–or else swoon to death.
–Keats
I’ll require that you browse Keats to find the entire piece, and you can thank me later for giving you excuse to sit peacefully with such a great poet.
January 12th, 2007 at 10:51 pm
La Fille, your compliments make me blush…Not like your last one that conjured heat elsewhere.
John, I have heard Keats’ “Bright Star” a time or two myself. When it was last read to me, I found myself envious of the words upon the page–my love’s cornflower blue eyes locked on the page instead of upon me. Keats is never a requirement…always a privilege to indulge in. My life is busy. And the fleeting moments I have to spend wrapped up in that genius, I will seize as though they are my last breath.
January 14th, 2007 at 12:21 pm
Lovely. Modern romance in the true sense, complete with tempter and passion.
January 14th, 2007 at 2:22 pm
Thank you, Tom. As always, I appreciate your perspective and insight even on something so thoroughly etched in my brain that changing it’s tenor is impossible now.