Tales of a Hyper-sexual Spy
THE LIGHT: I don’t make love like other people. Maybe I’m doing it wrong, but secretly I reckon everyone else is. It really doesn’t matter to me at all what my lover’s take on it is. Some of them will claim that it is just sex, that used to upset me, but the truth is if I’ve made love and they’ve just had sex, oh have they just missed out…I’ve got connections to a moment they won’t understand, for that moment I’ve held a heaven in my hands. Others, and this is even sadder will not understand that it is only a moment. They try desperately to hang on to it, to imprison you, like your soul is no longer your own. So they start to lie, even to themselves. It’s fantastically insecure of them. Like a moment of bliss can last an eternity. Like a tangle of the physical and emotional can become permanent. It can’t, it is transitory, and it alights upon your soul for but the flicker of a flame. If you try to hold the flame, you’ll miss her, when anew she comes again… and she always comes again. To make love, you need a physical chemistry and an emotional bond to the person. They don’t have to have it. You have to have it. And fucking, you need to be fucking, all you truly require off your lover to make love is a fuck. I remember a perfect night. Oh sure I could’ve stayed down to earth, I could’ve had sex, I could’ve kept my feet on the ground. But life is not fully lived if you’ve never stuck your head in the clouds is it? The trick is all inside your own heart space, your own head space. You have to get carried away with the moment. Escape your earthly bondage, the mundane and its hard chains.
I remember a perfect night. The river Nile lapped like a dog at its banks. I stood on the balcony. I could smell sand and jasmine, I always think I can smell jasmine. I could hear the crickets and birds, Mother Nature’s soft soundtrack. I could taste the red wine on my lips, the cool glass on my fingertips. I see my lover, she swims and smiles up at me, it’s that smile, so I throw myself to the moment like a thunderclap. The stars hang lower in the sky. I switch. I see her rise from the half light of the hotel pool, so pretty I could fucking die. She is Almera and like the women I loved before her she is gorgeous, a sorceress, dripping and flicking her hair like a princess. Only the intimate parts of her slender frame are covered. The wet bikini clings to her skin, the other guests heads start to spin. “Come,” I beckon her.
To make love a man should take control. Take dominion of her body and set loose his soul. She obeys the command with a smile and makes her way to the room. Her easy submission makes me grow hard. She’ll be mine to toy with as I please. The wine kisses my mouth one last time. She comes inside, all caramel skin and raven hair. Her chest rising and falling beneath her doe eyed stare. I stride towards her and she gasps a little. I grip her by the scruff of her neck, my lips on her open mouth. My hand wrapped around her waist so she cannot fall. She murmurs in my kiss. I pick her up and toss her hard onto the bed. Her wet hair darkens the sheets. I jump astride her flat belly so she cannot escape.
“Easy tiger,” she says to me.
“Shut up. I want you to do something for me.”
She places her hands on my bare chest.
“Anything,” she says to me.
“I want you to close your eyes,” I tell her, “and remember the time you were most romantically attached to someone. Remember what they did that tugged on the strings of your heart; the time they played it, they played it like a big old guitar.”
You too reader, close your eyes and remember the feeling it gave you. Hold that feeling. When I remember it feels like my internal organs have turned to molasses. Is that how it feels for you? Hold that feeling. I can see her going to that place in her heart; I drift my finger gently over her neck and breasts. I know this gives her tingles and that’s why I do it. That’s why I do it slowly. So she can go to a place inside…deep inside…
“Now I want you to remember the time you were most wet,” I move my hand to the bikini bottoms, “the time you were most wet…down there.” You too reader, close your eyes and remember that time.
“Remember both times,” I tell her, “remember and let go…because this a new time… our time…. let go.” She starts to writhe as my hand barely brushes her inner thigh, she slips a soft sigh. That’s good. That’s as far as I can take her, the rest is up to her now.
Me, I was already in the place she’s just gone to deep inside. I was there on the balcony. Slowly I pull down her bikini, then I kiss her feet, then slowly I kiss up her calves and thighs. My lips have traced up her belly, over her breasts to her neck. “You feel the tingles don’t you?”
“From my scalp to my toes,” she says.
My mouth moves down to her wetness. Once, twice, three times I thrust my tongue inside her. She tastes of woman, slightly salty. I move my mouth to that little bud, front and centre. My mouth plays with her bud without mercy. I trace my tongue around it, I suck on it, I flick around until she arches her back like a cat.
“Please,” she begs.
I take my mouth away and slowly slide myself deep inside her body. It’s my favourite part of fucking, a woman’s warm soft wetness, when it’s first against my hard taught skin. I decide to check out of reality. I can feel the cosmos moving through me. I decide I can master the cosmos as I can master her body, after all her body is made of the cosmos as is mine. I can ride the wave of the cosmos, it’s a madness I know, but I decide I want to feel at one with all creation so that’s what I do, it’s a godly feeling and I don’t give a shit if it’s crazy. I am who I am. And I’m getting off on this.
Her fingers drift and scratch at my back, my senses heightened beyond comprehension. But not yet control. I barely know it but my mouth whispers to her with kisses and words…about her heartbeat…about her dripping wetness…about tingles and shivers…she feels wide open. I whisper about my hard cock deep inside her cunt… and her cunt spasms…she cries out. She’s done…but I’m not…I fuck harder and faster…her legs now over my shoulders…as I go harder…faster…deeper…I am lost to my own understanding of the temporal and eternal…I have no sense of time…an hour or a minute may have passed…there is only a sense of touch…of sweat…of skin and breath…I have no idea if I’m talking to her or the cosmos…but I’m saying…“Fuck yeah!”…“Give it to me bitch!”… “Fucking give it to me bitch!”…then I grab a fistful of her hair…and for six seconds I come hard…for six seconds I’m in a chamber of heaven itself.
Then I’m back on the earth, staggering away from her. I feel the glow of that connection I made start to fade. She laughs at me and tosses a pillow my way.
“You’re sleeping in the wet patch,” she says. I laugh from my deep in my belly and turn round to look at the dark. Oh my soul. The dark, the godammed fucking dark… more about that tomorrow xxx