i met up with you there. after years of not seeing you, when you left me on an august morning. we tried and failed and tried again. for contact of some form. for friendship. i always wanted you, completely. nothing more, nothing less. simple. it was a pure act of childish hope that led me to drive those 520 miles.. that 7 hour trip, that should have taken 9. you had talked with me on the phone, the night before and the night before that. you'd made a point of it, in fact. to call me. to tell me you were in our city. not flaunting.. merely remembering what we shared at that place, at that time. we burned for one another. we burned so bright and so hot that we burnt up. but that was then, this is now. i'm here, in my rented room. waiting for that third call. the call you're going to make to me. the call you think you're making to another state. i have cleansed my road weariness. now i want to cleanse the hurt from my soul. the phone rings and i wait three before i answer.
"hello?"
"hey you."
"hi yourself"
"how was your day?" that simple question set me back 3 years.
"my day was terrible, i'd love to see you."
"i wish."
"well, i'm staying at the Hyatt on Embarcadero" nothing but silence for nearly a minute "hello?"
"i'm here.... you're here."
"yes"
"give me 20 minutes."
i tidied up the room, setting the CD i brought for you on the dresser, a shared favorite. the minutes seem to drag and fly at once. my perception is skewed. i brush my teeth once more and smooth my hair. taking deep breaths to steady shattered nerves and highly strung emotion. i hear a knock on the door, i use the peep hole, because i'm paranoid and because i want to see you, not seeing me. i want to see you waiting for me. i want to see if you still want me. i close my hand around the knob as i study you. just moments, just moments i plan to steal away and keep for my own self. you're there. freshly shaven, my memory searches for the smell of you. your cologne, your musk, your scent. i close my eyes for the briefest of moments, inhale and open the door. when i open them again, you're staring at me. not smiling, just staring. taking me in. devouring me, like you used to do. you always called me beautiful, that was your word for me. and i always loved hearing you say that or saying my name. your voice became warm and quiet when you used my name in affection.
"my god, you haven't changed a day sarah. you're still as.. you haven't changed a damn day."
"good to see you too."
i walk forward, as you do. we embrace in the doorway. lingering too long to be friendly. your hand pressed to the back of my head, holding it to your shoulder. you always knew how to hold me, to make me feel all right with the world, to let me know that i was safe. i recall just as many moments when that hand was there, gripping my hair. i feel your face lean into my neck and feel your breath there. inhaling me, not modestly, not shyly. you never did need excuses for yourself.
"you haven't changed a day beautiful."
i melt into your arms a bit. the past hurt and abandonment slipping away. as if we had never parted. as if you'd stayed that august morning, 3 years ago. i let myself surrender to it. surrendering always felt right with you. you feel my consent, from years of knowing. you kiss me lightly on the neck, to my ear, taking one lobe gently between your teeth, you squeeze so lightly, then release.
"i've missed you my good girl" you whisper.
i try to pull away, but your arm around my waist says otherwise. i settle in for looking into your eyes, nearly a mirror of my own, defiantly. you bend forward and passionately kiss me. your hand entwining in my hair. sharply angling my head to you. letting me know you could force submission, if needed. when at last you take a breath. you pull back, your hand still clutched at the back of my head, your eyes searching mine, not for answers, not for permission or for understanding.. more of a probing into my soul, into the depths of me. to drive the fact home that i would always be yours. i did not close my eyes.
"lovely fields of green, with a golden flower in the center. the petals so soft and delicious to look at. i remember pink petals too, those were just plain delicious.. and that delightful pearl.." you smile at this, such a disarming smile. i realize that i have been holding my breath and let it out in a soft sigh. "Mmmmm.. and those sighs and moans.." you slowly release your grasp on my hair and slide your hand, slowly around my neck, to my throat, pausing there.. then traveling along to the top of my bosom around the gentle slope, cupping from beneath, weighing, then rubbing your thumb over my already erect nipple. your eyes, never leaving mine. you pinch it lightly and your hand runs down my front, to the waist of my jeans, your thumb deftly flicks open the button and i feel the zipper give way as well, the denim pools around my ankles. your hand slides so easily down the front of my cotton panties. i feel the wetness arrive between my labia, before your hand can reach that cleft. my body remembers this very well. you stop short and lead me over to the bed. you lay down then and look at me, standing at the foot, you pat your chest in invitation. i oblidge, crawling from the foot of the bed up to you, where i curl up beside you, my head on your chest, your arms, comforting, wrap effortlessly around me, as if they were made for it. you let out a sigh of your own. we lay for minutes. i toy with your belt.. running my index finger along the buckle, remembering all the things you were capable of doing with a belt. as if you could read my thought, your hand rested on top of my own, stroking the top. then you moved from under me, to over me. pushing me easily back onto the pillows. kissing my face and lips. so easily everything came back. you pull my shirt and bra off and rip my panties from my body. almost frenzied, but under a graceful control, as if you are a harnessed stallion. your breathing becomes ragged as my own. i'm nearly shuddering with anticipation. i eagerly pull at your shirt. wanting everything between our skin to be gone. hungry for that closeness, that severe bond. you free yourself from your slacks in one fluid movement and are back at my lips, your hard cock pressing against my thigh. you spread my legs and thrust into me, entering immediately, no coaxing or teasing, just the sheer need of contact. you thrust fiercly a dozen times, my breath coming as fast as your strokes, you pull out and rub the tip of your cock on my clit and down to my ass, spreading my moisture around like butter on toast. you kiss my throat and breasts, biting one nipple, then the other. kiss my stomach, above my navel. you kiss my thigh, then bite it, then suck, leaving a light mark. then you dive into my pussy. hungry for it. licking, sucking and nibbling my clit and labia in turn. your hands spreading me open. owning, devouring you pump two fingers inside of me, while flicking my clit with your tongue. i feel my orgasm rising in me like a tidal wave, slowly pulling back and tightening, waiting for it's moment to rush forward and crush me. just as the wave headed for the beach, you remove your fingers from my pussy and firmly insert them in my anus, pushing me over the edge and shattering my being for full moments. you carefully reconstruct me. by removing your hands and running them up my sides, with your body, between my legs again, you enter me before i can stop shaking. each thrust strong and slow and purposeful your eyes searching my face for the meaning to life. this is when you are your most vulnerable. when you build your own and i clench and release with each thrust, helping you build your own fire. i feel each thrust rock me to my core, each connection, each release, only to connect again and release again. i see your eyes glaze over as you get closer and closer to your destination. your lips part, a breath escapes in a beautiful ragged sigh and i feel your seed spurt into me, that quiver of completion.
you thrust once again and then remain inside of me. your eyes return to focus, you rejoin the world. you fall to my left onto the bed onto your side, your head propped on your hand. i feel you staring at me.
i turn to look at you, but you left me on an august morning.
