She is the only woman I've ever slept with, the only woman I've ever brought to orgasm besides myself, the only woman I've ever felt love for. Perhaps she is the only person I'll ever love.
She was my introduction to affection, contentment and the silky sweet tactility of the womanly treat. She is my indulgence and my source of compassion. But, like all things, she will only be mine temporarily.
Why We Met
They say that everything happens for a reason. This phrase is most often used when something quite profoundly horrible happens in a person's life, and in my case the expression is oddly appropriate.
My douchebag husband had just up and left me the previous month, and my hours had been cut way back at work. I was drowning.
What sent me over the waterfall yesterday was the death of my goldfish… from fin flop. What the fuck is that? Beats the hell out of me why a fish can't swim on its side, even I can do the side-stroke.
I was bereft (not really that bad, but I like the word), I was miles past pissed off, and I was somewhat amazed that I missed Peedy more than I did Mr. Asshole Retard Fuckwad. Whatever, don't care. He is someone else's problem now.
Where We Met
Not far from my apartment is a cluster of churches. On the weekends it's a mash-up of incense and candles, snake handling and whirling dervish dancing, silence and contemplation with an underlying basement reverb of really, really bad singing and wheezy organ noise. However, during the week, this beehive of buildings becomes Support Group Central.
With every crummy thing that had happened in such a short period of time, I felt overly overwhelmed and weird, wondering if going outside my comfort zone might help. Maybe I was traumatized? No. That's just an overly overdramatic description. I'll go with dangerously irked.
I have always handled what life throws at me on my own terms, but this time was different. I felt beaten down and barely able to deal. Self-sufficiency and intestinal fortitude have always been my strengths, combating the feeling of helplessness is not a tool in my toolbox. Maybe it was time to learn some humility and humbly seek out the help of others.
Once I arrived at the hive I realized just how ridiculous my idea was, I'm really not that selfish and disrespectful. I hadn't planned on divulging the fact that the loved ones I'd lost were A) a bastard and B) one that had gills. I had planned on being a ghost, inconspicuous and silent, benefiting vicariously through secondhand tears. That no longer seemed appropriate, so forget it.
How We Met
So now I’ve guilted myself into a change of heart — good, I’m not a ghoul. Sitting down on the church steps under the sign that reads "Park In The Rear," I light a cigarette and turn off my mind. Closing my eyes, I tilt my face up into the sunlight shining through the wilty-leafed tree.
"Are you waiting for your group to start? Hi, miss? The next groups are about to begin. Are you going to be late?"
I don't say anything, I have no clue this girl is speaking to me.
"Hi. Miss? Do you have group?" To punctuate the question there is a slight tug on my sleeve.
I open my eyes and stare directly into the sun. That's using the old noodle, I tell myself. With a canopied hand I shield my vision from further damage and squint at the voice. "I'm sorry, you're speaking to me?"
The flash photo of an orb, all purplely red and orangey black, is galleried on the inside of my lids. I'll be seeing this for the rest of the day.
"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for you to go blind."
The speaker is apparently sincere with this statement. How guileless and cute is that? So sweet, she must be right off the farm. With a slightly amused laugh I reassure her that there is no permanent damage and there's no need to apologize.
"You're late for your group, so you might want to hurry."
"No. No group for me. I've changed my mind, are you late for yours?"
She sits next to me on the narrow stairs, close enough for me to get a good ringside squinched look at her. She is very young and rather beautiful. Wait. Lets call a spade a spade. She's ravishing.
"No, I'm good. My group just let out. Can I bum one of your cigarettes?"
"Yeah sure, here you go." It's nice she is concerned about a stranger, and I'm curious what her story is.
"Can I use your lighter?" I reach into my pocket and hand it to her. She asks "Why aren't you going to your meeting? It's not good for alcoholics to miss meetings."
"What? Why the hell would you say that?" I'm totally torqued. This babe is fresh off the farm and fresh on my shit list. I must be giving her The Look, because her eyes widen and I see the obvious "wish I could take that back" panic behind them.
With her now focused on the chipped brick tread of the step beneath our feet, she admits she jumped to conclusions. She admits AA is the reason she's here.
Truth be told, I'm freaking the fuck out shocked. She looks like a sweet little fairy from an imagined kitchen garden. Because of her physical allure, I would have guessed sex addiction.
Feeling rather embarrassed, I realize that I have jumped to conclusions as well. Guilty as charged.
"I'm sorry, you seem like a nice girl. Let's start over." I hold my hand out for shaking and say, "My name's Dali, what's yours?"
The girl takes my hand. "Wow. Thank you for being so nice, I'm Gigi. Would you like to get a drink?"
"Wait, wait, wait, hold on. You just got out of an AA meeting. Are you kidding me?"
"Oh no, I'm not here for me! I'm here for my grandma."
"Sweetie, you are going to need to elaborate. You are boggling my mind."
Immediately she's all furrowed brow, glazed eyes, and a bit slack jawed. I don't think she knows what boggling means. I try again.
"Sweetie, you are confusing the fuck out of me."
Like Sleeping Beauty, Gigi awakens from her fugue state and smiles.
"Grandma says she doesn't have a drinking problem and won't do the twelve steps, so I'm doing it for her."
I'm not even going to ask. Not only am I not touching that rationale with a ten foot pole, I'm leaving the pole in the equipment room. I ask her, "Isn't it too early to drink?"
"No, it never is. It's always cocktail hour somewhere in the world. Interested?"
I will venture to guess that this is the most intelligent thing this little cutie patootie has said all day long.
"Sounds good. You pick the place."
"Just follow me. It'll be fun."
Getting To Know You, Getting To Know All About You (kind of)
We sit at a small table in La Taverna Tokyo, a new Japanese/Italian fusion restaurant that will be closed exactly four months to the day of the grand opening. Sometimes you just gotta laugh. Pretentious bastards.
I savor my sake while I listen to her tell her stories. The more plum wine she drinks the funnier she becomes. She was a beauty school drop out, had enlisted in the military although she refused to fire a weapon or cut her hair, had dreamed of being a pro-surfer although all she could manage was the dog paddle and she was frightened of riptides.
Aqua is her favorite color, she likes movies with a lot of blood and guts, she would give anything to marry Little Joe from Bonanza. I don't have the heart to tell her he's no longer with us, she's delicate and I'm afraid she will crumble. She tells me funny jokes and is good at celebrity impressions, with the exception of the obligatory Cagney. And I like the way she twirls her hair.
I'm surprised to be enjoying her company this much. It's a welcome change from all the recent bullshit. I'm feeling a bit less dead now.
Her tales are amusing, they tell me nothing substantial about her, but it's nice to be laughing again. She's fascinating and I am so curious to learn more it's killing me. I ask her if she'd like another glass of wine, my treat.
"Yes, thank you. Are you hungry? I'm ordering minestrone, would you like something? That will be my treat. Go ahead, anything on the menu."
"Well, I have a sweet tooth so…. what do you think, tiramisu or a cannoli?"
"Those are desserts."
"I know, empty calories. I'm just so tempted."
She looks at me, and I see her demeanor has changed. In a between-you-and-me half whisper she says, "I thought I'd tempt you with dessert back at my place."
I'm dumbfounded. Say what?
"I find you extremely attractive," she continues, "when was the last time you were fucked?"
I sit there, brow furrowed, eyes glazed, a bit slack jawed and utterly dumbstruck.
"I don't think you've been fucked in a long time." She smiles, announces that she's still going to order soup and waves the waitress over.
"We'd like one more round please, and I'll have a bowl of your minestrone. Dali, would you like to have dessert now or satisfy your sweet tooth later?"
"Soup."
The waitress bows and walks away slowly in her too tight kimono to place our order. But she brings us our drinks lickity split. Thank heavens, I've been pantomiming drinking by sipping out of an empty cup in order to avoid having to speak.
But that little minx Gigi isn't going to let me off the hook.
"My apartment is very close, and I'd love for you to see it. Sorry I put you on the spot, I'm not very tactful. I just want to get to know you better. I want to know you very well."
I’m not certain if it's the hot sake or what, but I feel very warm and tiny beads of sweat are forming along my hairline. And something is tingling inside my bra. Is it my nipples? I'm not certain because I haven't tingled in a very long time.
The soup arrives, and all I can do is stare at it and think What The Fuck?
Gigi looks up from hers with a quizzical expression. "What the fuck? Is that seaweed?"
"I believe so… and tofu."
We slam our drinks, leave money on the table and walk towards the door.
"How was everything?"
Gigi says "great" and I say "bad," we look at each other, laugh and leave.
"Well that was random. Do you want to go somewhere else to eat?" she asks, looking straight ahead. I look at her and realize how lovely she really is. Her face is creamy and smooth, with just a touch of down along the jawline, so soft it looks. Soft like a baby chick that just hatched and aired out nicely.
Her cheeks are high boned and pink with dimples underneath that are present even when she's silent. Tiny indents that enhance her beauty like micro cracks on a marble statue.
Her hair is straight, long, very blonde, yet reflects amber in the sunshine. It is a curtain that frames her soft pale face, and falls like water over the breasts that I am now wishing to touch.
"No. I'm ready for dessert."
Getting To Know You, Getting To Know All About You (for real)
Her apartment is eclectic to say the least, is this what they call "shabby chic"? What's funny is that even though the collection is from various periods of time and from every continent I'm aware of, the palette is exceedingly pinky orange and green. I feel like I'm in a hibiscus.
It's obvious she's a fiend for incense, nag champa and patchouli is what my nose detects. Love it.
And even though her flat is a mishmash, the art on the walls is a sight to behold. I'm not an artsy-fartsy type of gal, but I know what I like and I like what I see.
"Where did you get these? They're all so fantastic!"
"I painted them," she says.
"Why didn't you tell me you're an artist?"
"Because I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"You certainly are!"
"No, I'm not."
"I can tell it doesn't pay to argue with you."
"Not really, I quilt too. Wanna see?"
"Absolutely," I say, staring closely at an oil of intertwined hands and faceless faces.
"Come with me," she instructs.
I follow her down the hall. The first room on the left Gigi obviously uses as a studio. She's going to need to replace the carpeting and paint the walls if she wants to get her deposit back.
The bathroom is on the right, the bedroom straight ahead.
There is a beautiful quilt (pinky orange and green of course) on her giant bed, the widest I've seen and so high off the floor that there are steps on both sides.
"It took me forever to make. I made it all by hand, no machine."
"Absolutely gorgeous." I run my hand over it and feel every seam has tight stitches. "Such beautiful workmanship, and I love the pattern. Very creative."
"Sit here," she says, patting the overstuffed cushion of an overstuffed recliner. "I have something else to show you."
I sit down, I'm very comfortable and can't wait to see what she'll show me next — which, to say the least, is not what I expect.
The Glory Of Desire
"Have you ever had a woman?" She begins to touch her breasts. "Have you ever run your fingers through a woman's hair and inhaled the perfume on her neck?"
I can’t answer, my mind is being blown away by how my cunt is suddenly acting. It feels wet.
She frees a breast from her shirt, a naked breast with a beautiful pink nipple that is fully erect. She licks her fingers and massages that beautiful bud slowly and deliberately. The tingling in my bra is back tenfold, and I can now feel moisture in what has long been a desert. Oh, fuck. I squirm a bit.
Her mouth envelopes her areola and begins to suck. She alternates between sucking and licking. She brings out her other breast, a finger revolves in a circle around the pink nib with an occasional pinch.
I can't move except for a slight shifting of my ass. I like how I'm responding, but I'm mortified.
Her tongue quickly flicks her breast. "Shall I continue?" she asks.
"Yes, please."
She pushes her breasts together and massages them slowly and deliberately as she stares at me, gauging my reaction.
She obviously likes what she sees. A hand slowly runs down her belly and reaches around to cup her ass. She moans slightly as she turns her back to me and leans slightly forward over the foot of the bed. I watch her rub her pussy through the denim of her jeans. She rubs hard as the fabric is tough, tough enough to withstand the rigors of panning for gold.
Her breasts sway freely as she brings her other hand straight down her belly to play firmly with her clothed clit.
Low, sweet moaning begins to escape her throat, and my shifting becomes more serious. Oh fuck, that feels so good. My moisture is increasing. I am feeling slick.
"Would you like me to unzip?"
"Yes, please," I reply with a bit of effort as I struggle to keep my own sounds a secret.
She smiles as I listen to the zipper being pulled down. I feel that sound on my clit, and a quiet solitary moan makes itself heard — I no longer have control over my voice.
She slowly pulls her jeans to her knees and bends forward even more. I can see the outline of her cunt through the wet silk. I can tell that she has a very pretty pussy. Her eyes close, her lips part slightly and her tongue slowly lolls over their blush as she is carried to that special place in her mind.
Her hands resume their tasks, and the panty's wetness spreads. She moves the crotch aside and her fingers touch the exposed flesh. I moan aloud but no longer care.
Her fingers dance wherever they land, parting the folds, allowing them to close, paying attention to every nook and cranny. With a thumb and a finger she parts herself to expose the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. I unbutton my blouse and reach my hand into my bra and squeeze. "Oh fuck," I whisper.
My blouse is off immediately when I watch her insert a finger into her hole. My bra comes off next when she inserts a second finger. I watch them glide in and out of her perfect pussy lips while I squeeze my breasts roughly. This is not the time for delicacy.
She turns to face me, strips her pants off the rest of the way and lifts one leg onto the high mattress. She has very long legs, so this position is perfect to show off her entire cunny. She continues to finger fuck herself from behind, and now I can fully see her clit. I wonder if mine has swelled that large.
She removes her fingers and licks them, sucks them, enjoying her juices. "Would you like a taste?" I nod. "Then come here and get on your knees." With no hesitation I do as I'm told. I lick, enjoying the syrupy taste.
Sex is instinctual and savory, a feast served up to two, three, four or more, and I begin to serve her wicked little appetizers.
My finger softly draws down from north to south, stopping momentarily at the mouth of Gigi's womanly wonder. I am barely touching her as the pad of my finger gently rests in the slight recess of her charm. Because I know how it feels I let my touch linger, but continue my hovering trace when she begins to press forward. Two can indulge at this table, and I'm delighted to be only the waitperson at this point.
Continuing the journey I reach and circle around and around her asshole which is as beautiful as her cunt. With two fingers I reverse course and, like two opposing parenthesis, sojourn within the open folds that she has kindly exposed to me, till I reach her clit.
I lightly press on her button, nothing more, nothing less. I love the way that feels when I play with myself, tease myself. Her hips buck forward and I withdraw. She moans loudly as her hips continue thrusting towards my mouth.
I resist the temptation to begin tasting the honey that she's effortlessly brought forth. I've always been a tease and will continue to tease until she begs. My finger slowly enters her honey hole and she savagely pushes forward, burying me to the hilt.
Her cunt is so wet, so hot, so tight. I leave her for a moment to remove my shorts. She looks at me with unfettered lust. I remove my panties, pretty as they are. I'm burning, I'm dripping, my pussy needs cool air. Squatting down in a very wide stance I insert two fingers into myself as I insert two others into her. In unison we are both invaded with the most holy of touches.
I begin very slowly with deliberate motions, in/out/up/down/left/right. My fingers are coated, I taste her cream and indulge in my own which is so sweet. Next on the menu is clit play, and I employ my thumbs. We are vocal twins, our sounds harmonize and deepen our pleasure.
My strokes become faster and firmer as I introduce a third invader for us both. Her pussy is very, very tight but I cajole it to relax and open further.
"You're going to make me cum," she cries.
"Not yet," I reply as I remove my hand and stand up.
The Glory Of Lust
"Get on the bed." She does so.
"Get on your knees." Again she complies.
I climb up to join her on the quilt, an Aladdin's carpet that will carry us both away.
I am running on instinct using myself as a template. On my knees I lick her pussy and bury my face. My mouth, my chin, my cheeks and closed eyes bathe in her softness and juices. My actions are alien to me, they are not my own. They are nature embodied, and nature is wise. It follows a path that meanders till it reaches its full potential, its destiny. My stiff tongue enters her to eat the honey that pours from within.
I finger myself and viciously assault my clit. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I moan as I cum. The walls of my cunt contract tightly around my fingers, momentarily freezing their motion. The vibrations of my moans are all that's needed for her to climax and begin the involuntary seizures that send a flood of rich honey into my mouth which I drink greedily. She is loud and unabashed in expressing her delighted passion. But our release is only an appetizer, we each have more to give.
I wrestle myself in front of her, lie on my back and spread my legs wide. As she eats me, I rub my tits furiously, which makes my body move in ten different directions at once. Her hand fucks me. Her tongue licks me. I lift my head up and watch through half closed eyes, and all I can see is a blur. My cum is quick, yet more remains. But as I continue to quiver she throws herself towards the nightstand and opens the drawer, and the toys come out.
Even though she's tight, her toys are thick and she shoves a black dildo in my hand. She kisses me with a crushing open mouth, and demands that I fuck her hard. My cunt twitches at her words.
She rolls on her back and throws her long legs up and over to rest on her pillow. This is the most beautiful sight I've ever seen, her face and pussy glow. I take the toy and insert it into her unearthly perfect pink hole. She tells me to be rough. I try to comply to her desire, I don't want to hurt her, but she cries out for more. I move it harder, faster, deeper.
"Harder! Shove a finger in my ass," she commands. I dribble spit over her asshole and do as I'm told. I've never done this to myself, and I don't know what to expect. I gasp loudly, the channel is burning hot and so, so smooth. She screams loudly, demanding me to fuck her ass.
I obey though truly worried that this might be painful, but her pleasured screams tell me differently. I fuck her with vigor, in her ass and in her snatch — hard. She begins to masturbate her button. "Keep your finger in my ass, but pull out the toy when I tell you to," she instructs with effort. Okay, I can do this — whatever this is. "Now fuck me!"
I pump her pussy and puckered little hole with fervor, the muscles in my arms starting to burn. Her eyes open, but there is no focus. She loudly vocalizes unintelligibly and then screams, "Now, now, now!" I pull out the dildo and watch her squirt. She's screaming so loudly that I'm becoming confused. "Put it in, put it in and fuck me!" I do what I'm told, and the cycle repeats itself four more times. My breasts, torso, thighs and knees are wet, Aladdin' s carpet is drenched, she's content and I'm bemused. What the fuck was that?
She seems to be in the aftermath throes of orgasm. She takes my hand from her toy and slowly, slowly, slowly inserts and removes it herself, sighing all the while. Eventually she opens her eyes, smiles and thanks me.
She can tell that this has been mind boggling for me — now this was a truly and utterly boggling moment, use this in the dictionary as the meaning of the word. She explains what had happened and why it happened and no, it's not pee. I tell her that I've never climaxed so intensely, didn't know it was even a possibility. She closes her eyes, puts an arm out and asks me to lie with her.
I lie next to her on my side and stare at her lovely face that still retains its Mona Lisa smile. Gigi rolls towards me slightly and runs a hand over my breasts and tummy sweetly. I run my hand through her hair, nuzzle her neck and smell her perfume. Our embrace is warm and soft and sleepy. We rest.
Night comes and we awaken even more entwined than before. She kisses me softly, my lips, my eyes, my cheeks, my chin, my neck and shoulders. We're relaxed and sleepily, delicately explore one another in a soft womanly way concentrating on missed opportunities.
We'll stay this way for a little while longer, take an innocent shower together and get dressed. But before we leave for a bite to eat Gigi whispers, "Pick a toy, any toy. I want to teach you something as soon as we come back." I blush and point at a nice purple vibrator with a curved tip. In the doorway she asks me what I'd like for dinner. I'm feeling mischievous and tell her minestrone. She slaps me on my ass and closes the door behind us. After street tacos and fried ice cream, we'll return and my education will begin.
