Age when written: 25

The Dare - Part 3 - 

Conclusion

please be sure to read Parts 1 & 2  first...

"WHERE'S MY WIFE!!!" The unknown voice booms from from the dimly lit porch.

Time stops, again.
My heart sinks.
I am frozen still.

The night has taken on a surreal quality, adjacent to a dream that ends badly.  The complete stillness that follows his bellowed inquiry leaves me alone with the sound of my own pulse, as loud as the labored breathing that we were both working to hide.

When I turn my head toward her, quizzically mouthing his same question, I am surprised to find her heading toward the door, pulling a sheet around her as she defiantly stomps toward the origination of this unwanted disruption.  Before I could tell her to stop, or to atleast give me a minute to compose myself and wrap my mind around this new twist of fate, she has already opened the door enough for me venture a guess at the enormous size of of our visitor.  Based soley of his silhouette, the danger that this man could instill upon my small frame was immediately apparent, despite the lack of hesitance she used when confronting the nightmare at the door...

Wasn't there supposed to be hiding?  Denial?  Scrambling for which way to go?  Stuttering?? Confusion???

I don't normally find myself in these situations, so the appropriate reaction escapes me.  Answering the door in the manner of an angry teenager whose room had been invaded by a probing parent, sans respect for privacy, was surely not at the top of suitable ways to handle this new developement.

"What the hell is your problem!" She irritatedly asks the intruder.  I am still frozen behind her when she adds "Don't you think her CAR would still be here if SHE still was?"

(huh???....)

"Do you see her car!???" She impatiently asks.  His only reply, after taking his angry hate-filled glaze from studying me, was "No... but I thought maybe..."

"You thought wrong!  Now go take your meds and continue bothering someone else!"  she states just before closing the door in his face.  Ending a confrontation that I thought was going to involve broken bones, embarrassed explanations, and eventually the police or ER...

Obviously, the angry husband of the other girl, the one that was sitting here half-naked herself just 30 minutes ago, posed no threat to anyone... but himself, possibly his wife, and anyone unlucky enough to land between the two in a situation like ours.

Buzz-kill, the word that came to mind when I heard his car pull away from the house, hadn't enough time to make a home in my thoughts before the sheet dropped... and the rest of the planet fell away with it. 

I was once again staring at her, bare back against my door, as if acting like the guardian of our fervid experience. 

No one else existed here anymore, just her and I.  No other sights seen, aside from her exquisiteness.  No sounds noticed, besides the soft click made when she locked the door, and the footfalls made by her bare feet on the carpet as she approaches me again. 

The heat and intensity of her craving has increased exponentially from the now forgotten bothers and distractions that the night has offered thus far.  Nothing, it was now clear, would be able to stand between our insane need for each other.  Nothing further would be able to pull us back to this earth, away from our one-room world of sweat and passion, the likes of which would remain unknown to most, glimpsed by a few, and desired by all.

Thoughts of her back arching, chest heaving
with tattered breaths peppered with squeals and moans of orgasmic lostness replay in my head as I lay next to her a few hours later.  Her sixth leg-tightened, full-body spasming, louder than even she expected yell and cry producing orgasm left her completely energyless, glowing and glistening with both eyes on me in wild fascination, and slight disbelief. 

Sublime in her newly-learned world where a man can actually make the sexual experience not only fun and exciting, but damn well worth it as well, she slowly returns to normal breath.  Having never experienced a mans mouth on her, with the explicit intention of causing pleasure for her and her alone, has left her in somewhat of a state of wonderment.  Hard to imagine that all the previous experiences could have contained enjoyment for her as well as him.  Even a fraction of what she had tonight, even if only experienced once, would have given her a much better opinion of this expected part of human interaction.

She rolls over and lands beside me as I turn to lay on my side, facing her in all her splendor.  Her back to me, we both fall blissfully into slumber wearing only what god bought for us, and a smile that we paid for ourselves.  We remain that way, motionless, and completely content during the first toss-less sleep either of us have had in years.

I open my eyes in the growing morning light, a goofy grin still occupying my face, to find her angelic face staring back at me, smiling.  Fully awake, having me at a disadvantage, she relays regret for having allowed the night to end without her reciprocation of atleast one face-contorting release for myself, for the six she will never forget.  According to her, and nature would agree, I need but to lay back, and let her show me her grattitude, for the only physical requirement for a man had indeed been met already, as most mornings do.  The early country air filled with moans and yells that had never escaped me before then, and would be a rare occurance as life progressed. 

What followed was to be the first, of many co-pleasured escapes to our one-room world we created for us and only us.  One filled with sounds and positions I never knew I could produce, either myself, or through her.

I finish this memoire-ish venture through the pathway of my mind lost in thought, and memories, while feet from me lies another love.  So warm... so wet... tasting sweet and oh sooo satisfying.  My mouth waters as my lips approach... a sure dream-chaser for any tired morn... a satisfaction driven sigh escapes me as my hand idly explores the curves and valleys of the vessel which holds my addiction... sometimes I will even sneak divulgence during my lunch hour, though I usually have to rush home to get it...

In fact, I am overcome at this very instant for another cup...

As I finish my coffee, it dawns on me that pretty much anything we enjoy, can be made more enjoyable by the mere expression of the joy itself.  My enjoyment of coffee, writing, and expressions of different emotions via the pen, come second to my enjoyment of the female form. 

In my opinion, the expression of love, via the exploration and bonding with their physical being... is a powerful teacher in the classroom of life.  A college which hands out no diplomas, and asks not for tuition.  A universal-university that if studied, learned, and practiced, will produce a lifetime of satisfaction, pride, and above all else, a list of glowing references from those you shared class time with in the past...

Who said being teachers pet was a bad thing?

Namaste