Oneness

I got to the hotel first. I caught an early flight because I just couldn't wait.  The kid's Dad wanted to pick them up a couple of days early so I was free to jump an early flight.  The tension was building and I knew I needed to get there and settle in and settle down. It felt like an eternity since we last embraced.

The suite was lovely, fresh flowers, champagne...my favorite.  Chicago is romantic when you see it that way.  I ran a bath, put on some soft music, lit a dozen candles and lazily bathed in lavender scented water.  I knew he was coming, I could feel him making his way here.  Getting off the plane, car waiting, stopping to pick up a nice little something for me.  He would come into the suite, drop his things, wash up in the powder room and find me.  He would sit by the tub and start talking as if this was our daily routine.  We long since stopped that racing passionate fuck-on-the-floor as soon as we get into the room stuff.  We have mellowed, yet our passion has intensified.  We know what we love and like from each other.

It is slow and deliberate.  There is no rushing.  This is not an affair.  We are not married to other people and are sneaking around.  We live in different cities...different parts of the country with varying degrees of commitments.  We have not figured out how to blend our lives.  So we meet in the middle for long weekends, and school breaks, and vacations.

I step out of the tub, he wraps me in a towel, and we slow grind to the beautifully appointed king-size bed overlooking the city that takes your breathe away.  He's talking and whispering and laughing as he steps out of his finely tailored clothes.  I love the way he dresses.  I love the way he smells.  I love that he takes great care of himself as if he is a present just for me.

He meets me on the bed whispering I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.  I laugh and say have you now?  He kisses me, deeply, wrapping me in his arms tightly.  His hands move up and down my body as if he is remembering, reconnecting.  I pull him close... I am already wet.  I just want him hard and deep and NOW!

He knows it and pushes in deeply.  I catch my breath, wrapping my legs round him as if I was falling off a cliff. We quickly get our rythm. I just want to go hard and fast, but he slows us down.  I can barely stand it.  He slows it way down with deep, long strokes that make me feel like the time space continuum has stopped and I am drifting in eternity.

There is something divine about the experience of oneness with someone.  One perfect moment when everything stops except your own heartbeat in sync with someone else'. That's what it's like, falling backwards from the beginning of time.  A primordial awareness that surpasses every other experience you have ever had or known.

We lay still with each other.  Amazed at the passion, the depth and the joy.  It is awesome. For the next few days we will be one.

WHAT TO DO ON A RAINY DAY....

 
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This is a day for making love...FUCKING.  On all fours with hands gripping the sheets and Him pushing from behind with a steady thrusts...deeper and deeper.  Oh it feels good... oh so good.  I am transported to another realm of being.  The pleasure from this encounter makes me crazy.  I am panting, trying to slow my pace.  Trying to hold onto this majestic feeling.  I am so close to the edge of any reality.  The scream is building.  I can feel it racing up through my throat.  I can feel my heart racing faster faster faster.  I want Him to slam into me with everything he has.  My back is arched, my ass is in the air and I am losing all sense of reason.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is a day for making love...FUCKING. Rainy Day. Yes.

COME BEARING GIFTS....

I am a woman for making love round' midnight. I love the wee hours of the night, well before daybreak. I like the way the house is quiet and the only sound that can be heard is heaving breath and hushed whispers.


I love low sexy talk and witty banter and hands and legs entwined. I love making love.

My libido has grown over the years. My desires have become more acute. I can't imagine not having a robust sex life now that I have rediscovered passion. I love to have the back of my spine licked. I love lots of pillows on my bed. I love champagne and vegan chocolates and fresh cut flowers...roses, peonies, orchids. I have discovered flame less candles...I can sleep by candlelight and not burn down my house. I am a woman for mood.

I love high thread count sheets washed and rinsed in lavender. I love Oscar Peterson playing in the background. I am a woman for sights and sounds and taste and touch.

This isn't about being horny. That I can take care of.... This is about romance and making love. A wonderful day spent, a lovely evening lingering, a steamy night to get lost in.

It is fantasy and reality and drama and desire converging on the alter of my king-sized bed. It is taking time again and again and again and again. It is the long slow kiss. The long slow caress. The long slow stroke.

I am in the mood for romance and making love. Not a quickie up against a wall or on a couch. There is time and place for that. I want want want want want deliberate, long playing, breath catching, earth moving, love making, complete with picnic in bed and love poems recited.

Perhaps this is my mood indigo. Perhaps this is a prayer. In any case it is now spoken into the universe with an expectation that someone will come bearing these gifts.

ALL THE TIME...

The way that man makes love to me, I feel like I am the only woman on the planet.

He is deliberate and aggressive. It is illicit and downright nasty. He brings me to my knees and I like it...shit I love it. I love his desire for me...the hunger, the fire. I can barely think, all I can do is surrender and moan and call out his name almost begging. He does not want a beggar, he simply wants pleasure. I bend to his every touch, stroke, whisper. I am suspended in a place of twilight and reality.

He knows how to touch me...take me...and bring me back down.

I ache for him in ways that scares me. I go through my day with the memory of the last encounter playing in my mind. Oh baby it was so good, so so good soooo GOOD! I am more alive than I can ever remember. In his arms I am a vixen, seductress, Queen. I am shameless in my desire for his touch and taste.

There are moments when I am laying with him and the sound of his breathing arouses me and I want him again and again and again.

There is no end to this passion. I want him all the time.

All the fucking time.

SUMMER NIGHT DREAM...

It begins with a soft summer night breeze blowing in through the bedroom window. I am laying on the bed but not sleeping. I am fully aware of a heightened sense of desire stirring in me.

I am waiting. Waiting for the pleasure of his company.

He arrives and greets me passionately. His arms drawing me close to his heart. He smells wonderful and he feels like heaven. This moment alone would be enough. But I know and he knows there is more to come. There are no words. What is there to say? I love you. He knows. He loves me I know. Our bodies bend to our wants. I lean back pulling him with me. Pulling him over me, on to me. I want his full weight. I want my legs wrapped around his legs. Eventually they will find his way around his back. But for now I want the steady slow motion of our bodies rocking in concert...slow... deliberate...deep.

My tongue explores his lips, his neck, his ears. My hands caress and hold. I can feel our rhythm intensifying. It takes everything I got not to hurry. It is so good when its slow and steady. His breathing quickens and I can feel him grow inside me. I can feel my honey spot expand and tighten to accommodate him. He was made for me. My body responds and meets his passion. I am not in control. It is the nature of the beast that drives this passion. We begin the ascent. There is no one else on earth. We are the only lovers left. The heat builds. I whisper into the night air... harder, deeper, more. He wraps his arms around me fully and buries his face into my neck. He raises his head to kiss me full on the mouth probing and desperate. We are entwined in sweat and dreams and hope and love. We are so close. It is almost too much to take.

It is the feeling of free falling off a cliff backwards. It is the sense of flying way beyond the stars. Being one with the divine and knowing it. I cannot let go. He cannot let go. It is in those few moments when everything in us says pull away but we pull closer.

Thoughts of Summer nights filled with dreams of passion and lust and heady lovemaking fill my mind. I think of him and remember what was or could be again.