Forty Years (erotic)

How we met, yes. Well. I remember it like yesterday though it was more than forty years ago. She opened the door, entered, and without taking her eyes off me, closed the door, and locked it. Her eyes never left me, but she stepped forward to this sort of low desk in center of the room, while I backed up to the far wall. She took off her shoes, hiked up her skirt and, still looking quite resolutely at me, removed her underwear. Then with her skirt up, hands on her hips and in this poise of half-naked control, she says, “I, am going to take you now.”

And I was completely fascinated by the way she said that; I was staring and couldn’t stop. Perhaps it was partly the shock of the moment, and the moment was certainly starting to stretch, but I was still re-hearing her emphasis on the ‘I’ and that briefest of pauses before going on to ‘am going to take you now.’ Then just as I managed to stop staring, and started trying not to show how stuptified I was, she tilts her head ever so slightly and said, “Come here.” Of course, I heard that amused tone everyone uses when about to play a good natured trick, and this sends me back to staring in utter fascination again.

In those moments I knew I didn’t know what to do, and I also knew how bad that was because it meant I was completely smitten with her. Of course she was a beautiful woman, and frankly, she still is. It was only my first day there and I had already known how beautiful she was from the instant our eyes met. And that was the problem: the ever jaded I, who didn’t believe in ridiculous things like love at first sight, felt overwhelmingly attracted to a woman –a woman I had just met. And with her now standing before me in half-naked expectation, the only thing I could manage was a repeat performance from a few hours earlier: an embarrassed staring with furtive excursions to her various ample parts while I fought dry mouth, hard swallows, belly quivers and everything. It was shameful, but here I was doing it again, only this time I was alone with her while staring directly at her nakedness and letting a solid fifteen seconds elapse in embarrassing silence. Then, when I did finally snap my eyes back to her face, I thought my first actual thought since she opened the door: Okay. Yes. She’s a woman, a damned gorgeous one, but still a woman. A girl practically. Half your weight, nearly a foot shorter, and besides, you at least still have your clothes on.

And that’s when she raised her eyebrow at me in the classic “Are you going to make me make you?” look. Now you have to understand, though honestly I didn’t understand it myself very well then, but I was essentially a pretty passive guy, still am a fairly passive guy. I was the one who simply, and invariably, just choose the path of least resistance. So when her eyebrow went up like that, I was suddenly moving before I even realized it. And though I managed to keep my eyes on her eyes this time, if there was something perfectly cool and appropriate to say in the situation, my desperately churning mind completely failed to think of it by the time I was standing at arms length. And then it was too late because she put her right hand on my left shoulder and says “Sit,” firmly pushing my compliance while thumb-turning me until I was sitting on the floor with my back slouched against the desk corner.

Now if part of my staring earlier could be attributed to never having been in the same room with this part of a naked woman before, part of the reason I couldn’t have seen it was because most my experience had quite literally been in the dark. But this room was bright and she stood over my shins with more hip detail and leg line than I’d ever imagined. So I was really, very, distracted. And yet distracting as this was, I was becoming keenly aware this was not how people started making out. And this was probably why my knees were still up slightly, and why, I then absurdly realized, I was starting to hug them protectively to my chest.

So I stopped, and while putting my knees down, I started thinking brave things like, What the hell you think she’s gonna to do to you? Who cares if you just met her this morning, obviously she’s inviting you to have SEX! You dream about this every day! Sure she said ‘take you,’ so it’s a game, so what? It’s a game where you get to have SEX! So then even though I had absolutely no clue what she was doing, I convinced myself NOT to freak out like a complete idiot. No matter what, I resolved to play it very cool, and play along with her game.

Then she steps forward over my knees to straddle my arms and place her naked thighs right before my backward flinching face, and she says, “Don’t move.” It would have been hard to move just then though, partly because she was so confident while I was completely clueless; she really did seem to have a plan and really know what she was doing. But it also would have been hard because now those lower parts of her frame I had never seen before, or even managed to imagine very well, were suddenly filling my entire field of vision, so I freeze in an attempt not to ruin the moment.

But of course, difficult or not, I immediately do ruin it because I get the idea to move my hands from between her legs to between us, where I could then put her between my hands and then help her down onto my lap. Yes, not being very practiced at this, I had moved in mere moments from taking comfort in the conspicuous presence of all my clothes — to the incongruous assumption I didn’t have them on at all. So she says, “Ah-ah, don’t move” again, and I’m only surprised for a split second: Oh hell, I still have my clothes on. With my arms between her legs. What the hell IS she doing?

And then I got all my answers because instead of complying with MY idea of ‘taking’ me by sitting across my lap in some way, she instead inches forward and commands me: “Tip your head back.” Yes. That was when it became suddenly, and entirely, too clear. She WAS going to take me, but she was going to take my face and use it. For her, not me –unless I could think of some way get my lap involved with her encroaching wisps of hair– a way without being a totally uncool idiot. But then she was stepping over my shoulders–

Omygod.

pressing my forehead back with both hands ’til my face was nearly straight up and

Omygod-I-can-smell-her , and–

my mouth firmly connects with HER just as the back of my head hits the desk.

OMYGOD.

“As you can feel, I’ve been looking forward to this all morning.”

Omygod she’s right, it’s only lunchtime on my first day and I’m having my head held down while the girl I just met sits bottom naked astride my face. And of course at that point, I can’t help BUT to feel how right she is because: Omygod she is slick wet. And warm.

“Now open up a little and stick out your tongue. And don’t look so scared, love.”

Stick out my tongue. Right. But by then I already knew what she wanted me to do. I already knew I was more than literally in over my head and it couldn’t possibly matter what I did: this was not the sort of thing my friends of forty years ago would ever let me live down. It just wasn’t the sort of thing people forty years ago did, or perhaps just not the sort of thing they admitted they did. Certainly not the young people my age, or where I lived. At that moment I could only comfort myself that no one else was there to see it.

But yet, in a strange way, it was also very reassuring to know it wouldn’t matter what I did, because it helped two other very important things conveniently line up. First, I already really, really, really wanted to please this woman. Sure, I liked her a lot and I didn’t want to blow it. But more than that, whatever spell I was under, maybe it was a spell she cast, maybe it was the spell of love at first sight, and maybe the spell was all in my head, but whatever it was, it was a greater force than I, and I was under it. I simply wanted, needed, to make her happy. Very happy, very badly. And secondly, well, if no one was ever going to know, if no one ever could know, then as I said, it was path of least resistance, and it was clear. I closed my eyes, and stuck out my tongue.

And she was right there, pressing herself down into my mouth and Omygod I can taste her.

Wow, she’s so… …soft.

“Ahhhhmmmm, there now, that’s not so bad is it?”

No, it’s not bad- whoa- she’s moving. What is that?

(Then she did it again.) That on my tongue.

(again.) Oh, wow. How can she move that?

(again.) Oh, she’s moving her hips.

(again.) no, it’s not her hips.

(again.) not just her hips.

(again.) she’s moving her

(Again.) whole body.

(Again.) why’s she..?

(Again.) oh, she

(Again.) put my

(Again.) hands on

(Again.) her bottom

(Again) omygod–

(Again) it’s like she’s

(Again) making me

(Again) push her

(Again) in my

(Again) mouth!

(AGain) she’s just

(AGain) taking me

(AGain) just–

(AGain) –taking me!

(AGain) again and

(AGain) again and

(AGain) omygod–

(AGain) –this feels so…

(AGain)

(AGain) …good?

(AGain) there and

(AGain) in there and–

(AGain) she’s still

(AGain) doing it with

(AGain) all

(AGain) all of her and–

(AGain) all of her and–

(AGain) it’s all– –oh–

(AGain) –all of her

(AGain) all of her

(AGain) taking me

(AGain) and omigod–

(AGain) –I can’t stop–

(AGain) –omigod–

(AGain) I like this!

(AGain) this is good

(AGain) this is good

(AGain) it feels so

(AGain) GOOD!

(AGain)

(AGain) HER–

(AGain) –ALL of her–

(AGain) –ALL of her–

(AGain) –ALL of her–

(AGain) RIGHT here

(AGain) Oooomygod–

(AGain) –this is–

(AGAin) “There now–

(AGAIn) don’t you think–

(AGAIN) this…

(AGAIN)

(AGAIN) …is what–

(AGAIN) you were–

(AGAIN) made for?”

(AGAIN) YES

(AGAIN) O-YES

(AGAIN) O DEAR GOD

(AGAIN) GOD YES

(AGAIN) PLEASE

(AGAIN) PLEASE

(AGAIN) YES.

(AGAIN) YES!!

(AGAIN) YES!!!!!

(AGAIN) YES!!!!!!!

(AGAIN) ….O

(AGain) …….O

(Again) ………oh ohmigod

(again.) ………..o…..thank you

(again.) thank you

And when I opened my eyes, she was still holding my mouth, my lips, my face, my head –my me– tight. And smiling beatifically.

She sighed “that’s a good boy” and her wistful (again) caused me to shiver through an aftershock. “Hmmm,” and she did it (again).

“Well, you did like it, didn’t you?” But my mouth was still full of her, so I nod my head, just slightly, just a little bit, just once, but this makes it happen (again) and then I have to shiver though another one.

“Wow, really liked it, huh?” I nod a little (again) but it was not as bad that time.

“So you do think this (again) is what you were made for?” I nod twice and (again) twice. She smiles laughingly at me and, reaching back, she casually swats my hands off her.

“I guess we’re well matched then. You did fall in love with me this morning, didn’t you?” I had recovered now and I nod more than twice. Because then I understood and agreed more than twice over. Because then I wanted to say so much more than this to her, to this woman, and because then I knew without reservation that she was most definitely a woman, and a great one. Because then I wanted to say I knew I was born to love her, and I would love her any way I could, any and every way that would make her happy, for as long as I could, for the rest of my life, no matter who knew it, or what anyone else thought about it. So then –because I wanted to tell her– I moved and tried to get up.

“No, no, ah-ah!” and I stopped. I didn’t think; I just stopped.

“Now relax.” I relaxed back against the desk.

“Ah well now, I do like it when you follow directions. Hmmmm. Yes, I thought you did because we saw each other at the same time, and you see, that’s when I fell in love with you. You know, we must truly be soulmates then, seeing and wanting each other at the same time.” I nod and nod again, and she sighed and moved again, and there’s this little slide too.

“Yes, soulmates, that’s what we are.” And I nod again, and again. And again. And then I wanted to tell her how firmly I believed this is true. I knew this was what I felt earlier when I realized she wasn’t just moving her hips, she wasn’t wanting with just her hips. And I knew it, because I felt it, because I could feel her soul wanting me with every movement, with every inch of her body. With her she in me and my me in her, I felt her desire for me and my desire for her, right through our bodies, right past our minds, right down to our souls. And then I felt them all come crashing together. Right there: her pivot, my tongue. Yes. Soulmates. Yes, I nod. God, yes.

But I nod too vigorously, and she says, “Ah-ah! No getting up yet.” I immediately stopped nodding and she laughs, “Are you always going to do what I tell you?” I nod. Absolutely.

“Well good, I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.” I nod, and there’s that little slide.

” Ah, but will you always like being good for me?” Nod. Yes. (again.) oh no.

” Well then, soulmates again, huh?” And I can’t not nod (again).

“Will you promise to always do what I tell you?” Nod. (again.) Promise.

“Hmmm. Every time?” Nod. (again.) Promise.

“Swear?” Nod. (again.) Swear.

“What will you swear by?” I looked at her and down to my mouth. You.

“Oh, (again) you swear by (Again) me.” Nod. (Again) Yes.

“By me–” Nod. (Again.) Yes.

“Or by this–” (Again) Nod. Yes.

“Both, huh?” Nod. (Again.) Yes.

(Again.) “Very politic.”

(Again.) “And smart.

(Again.) “Now put your hands back.”

(AGain.) “Very Good. “

(AGain.) “Yes–”

(AGain.) “–a good boy.” Oh–

(Again.)

(Again.) Ohmigod.