Chapter 2: Revisited

He’d called her up to let her know he wanted to see her. After last time, she couldn’t pass him up, so she found a way. It had to be on his terms, but it was for her pleasure… that was his nature. He wanted, more than anything else she could offer, her pleasure… to be the source of it. That was the need she filled in him, his desire to share his gift and be appreciated for it, he was an artist who delighted in the expression of his talents.

Her body quivered with excitement at the anticipation of what was to come. As she lay there already lost in him, the world around them faded… it was of no concern to her, not now, not any longer. Her body laid bare, exposed to his desires, her own now more apparent than ever. He could feel her pearl pulsing beneath his tongue before he even kissed it, it remembered him… she had already had her first one before he’d even begun. The wetness flowed from her, both sticky and slick, the threads of it hung between the walls of her thickened lips… now flush with the warmth of rushing blood. The strands snapped at his presence as he spread her open, submerging himself in the delicate and delicious taste of her… a taste that sent a shiver through his body as an animal craving for her surged up, and took root in him.

His body remembered her as well now, it knew her from the delightful flavor of her pleasure… something that had imprinted on him, and now brought him great satisfaction. But he had only just begun, and before he was done that satisfaction would consume them both with incomparable pleasure… he knew this to be the only outcome, as his tongue search even now to bring her to the next precipice of this dance which had become her surrender, he knew this because she was his.

She no longer had the capacity to belong to any other, he had enchanted her with his discipline and passion, his very touch had become a drug to her. His presence comforted and pleased her even as it summoned a feverish longing in her. All others had become like shadows to her in this respect, their presence barely ever registering, buried beneath thoughts of him. The magic he held over her was such that it had turned all her other experiences into disappointments, memories no longer worth acknowledging. He was the source of this condition, what he could do to her was known to her body in a way which could not be denied… and she was being reminded of the power of it now. The memory of it merging with the present moments of this exquisite experience, as she rolled into the next one. She had become his passenger now, he was driving them towards the promise of profound ecstasy… and she could only indulge his course.

Nothing about her was taboo to him, it was sacred but not by any means forbidden. He used every part of her to his advantage, she was his toy, or more accurately she had become a medium for him to express his art upon. Though this was not a work to be known to the world, no one else could ever appreciate what he was creating between them. It was a personal exhibition, a master piece which could only be experienced… something unique to this moment which could never really be repeated. Each time he dove into her like this was the first time, because his canvas was never truly the same canvas, and what he created was her release from who she was at that time. What he created… was a taste of freedom. The experience was a type of truth which one could never fully grasp, it was an exotic state of being… and the source of her addiction to him.

As he found ways to provoke her to further depths, with sensations which somehow seemed new because she could no longer catalog where they came from, he could sense she was losing herself to what was to be. She was being swept into the moments ahead of them, and soon she would be consumed by it. As the next one came he persisted, to ensure it had no end… they were so close together now he could roll it over into a forth one, if he was skillful enough in his temptations. He was of course, and soon they came pushing through each other, one beginning after the next had even finished, until they’d begun almost simultaneously and could no longer be distinguished one from the other.

The dam had broken, and her river ran free… he lapped it up like a dog desperate for water, as if her essence was flowing into his mouth. Her body was now shaking uncontrollably, if anyone else had seen her in this way they would think it was a seizure of some-sort, but she was unaware of it. She wasn’t really there with him right now, he could ask her to speak her name but she wouldn’t know it… it didn’t matter, besides she barely had the capacity to form words. In this moment she was experiencing something that he could only envy, though he took undeniable satisfaction in the fact that he had carried her into it. When she came back to him she would be spent, not quite exhausted, just so at ease that it would feel sinful to surrender it to action or concern. She might lay there awhile, or she might fall asleep, but she would be for a time at peace.