It’s been about five hours since the Terminator started torturing my sweet spot. We lie in a tangle of limbs, cum-stained sheets, and stray condom wrappers. Violet twilight floats in through the window, enveloping us.In the semi-darkness, we look like bodies at a crime scene; splayed haphazardly and totally depleted. The little strength we have left is used to take sips of much-needed water and for an occasional caress. I’m face down on the bed and don’t have the strength to turn over. Idly, I wonder if I can walk, then I doze off.
When I wake up, the bedside lamp is on and he is lying next to me watching me, playing with my belly button. Apparently, I managed to turn on my side in my sleep. I stretch, look at him and smile.
“Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” I say.
He laughs like I’ve never seen — full and loud, completely unguarded. His face looks wonderful when he laughs. I reach out to touch his cheek and takes my hand, kisses my palm and slides close to me.
“How are you?” He asks. Did I hurt you? I — you make me crazy. I lost it at the end there, I’m sorry.”
I feel battered but fantastic. As I’ve said before, when Terminator fucks me, he renews me on a cellular level. I can feel it like a fire rushing through my bloodstream.
I move closer to him and he holds me close (my brain is like, bad pattern, bad pattern, bad, bad BAD pattern)
“I’m fine,” I say. “At least I think I am. I won’t be sure until I stand up, which I don’t know if I can do, you beast,” I laugh.
He holds me tight and whispers into my shoulder — “I didn’t even play with the restraints because when I saw you tied down, I had to be inside you, and I love that you can take it when I fuck you hard, that you can take me — that you don’t stop me — and it makes me…”
“I thought we were going to die, but I loved every second, and I’m fine.” I look into his face to reassure him. He is truly concerned that he unleashed some wild beast on me, which I suppose he did. But I have a beast too, and she was very, very happy. I kissed him to reassure him, and in seconds we were making out, entwined around each other, me wet and moaning with desire, and he hard as a rock, in heat again.
This is insane, I thought to myself as I hungrily guided his cock into my hot, wet pussy. Again. It was as if our bodies couldn’t stop fucking each other.We could barely move from exhaustion, so it was one of those where once he got deep inside, I writhed on his delicious cock, he against me, moaned and grunted in pleasure until I brought myself to orgasm. Then he pumped me a few more delicious times and came with a subdued shudder. We fell asleep still clutching each other and with his cock still inside me.
We woke up about an hour later and peeled our bodies off each other, laughing at the pain — our skin had stuck together like duct tape. Our very pores were trying to fuck each other, I thought. “We need to get out of bed before we kill each other,” I said.
“You’re free for dinner?” Yes I was. It was a Friday night and my son was with his father for the weekend. J and I were not together at that point, but we reunited soon after.
I got out of bed and my knees buckled. Seriously. He caught me and sat me down on the bed, laughing. “Fuck you,” I said, smiling.
“I did, that’s why you can’t walk,” he chided. I couldn’t even be embarrassed.
He left the room for a moment and came back with a more water and orange cut up in wedges on a small plate. “You’re just dehydrated and your blood sugar is probably low, ” he said, feeding me an orange wedge with his fingers. He knelt in front of me and made me eat the whole orange, making me take the wedges from his teeth so he could kiss me with each wedge.
He held me around the waist when I stood up again without incident and walked across the large bedroom to the master bath. He walked to the huge sunken tub and turned on the water, got some scented bubble bath and squirted it into the tub. The toilet was in a little closet across the room and I slipped inside to use it.
The bathwater made the air warm and smelled delicious. When I came out, the tub was surrounded by candles and he was sitting on the edge of it, waiting for me. It looked beautiful, and I thought, I have to tell him, because this looked like major feelings, and….
“You look worried,” he said (damn these hyper-observant motherfuckers). “I’m not proposing or anything,” he laughed. He looked at me for a long moment. I just wanted to experience this with you.” he said quietly. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.” My heart. My heart.
His gaze was full of desire and something else I couldn’t pin down.
He got into the water and pulled me in. The temperature was perfect, and the water felt silky against my skin. He sat down in the water and pulled me to sit on his lap, facing away from him (you pervs, lol) and we just leaned back in the candlelight and relaxed.
I heard soft music coming from somewhere. Familiar music. I sat up when I realized it was the playlist. OUR playlist, that I started putting together after we first met. The playlist I’ve been listening to all this time to think about him, invoke him and write about him. I sent it to him ages ago and he never mentioned it. It filled the air around us.
I turned around and looked at him. “I thought you hated it,” I said.
“I never said that,” he said. He came toward me and grabbed a big bath sponge from a basket on the edge of the tub wet it with the soapy water. He pulled me to him and began to clean/massage me with it, as the strains of Chet Baker, Bill Evans, and Wynton Marsalis played our slow, jazzy sexy music.
Terminator used that sponge as an exploratory device. He cleaned/caressed every inch of my body with it, often kissing a spot after the soap had been washed away. He concentrated like he was committing every inch and crevice of me to memory as if he would be asked to draw me from memory. When he was done, it was my turn, and I caressed his body with the same attention, fascination and hunger, massaging his lean strong muscles, inhaling his scent, running my hands over ridges and valleys of muscle and tendon, drinking him in for what may be the last time. I know it has to be, but I still can’t believe it. And it’s that disbelief that will destroy me if I let it.
We’re facing each other, looking into each other’s eyes knowing everything. Knowing nothing. He sits back and pulls me back, onto his lap and we stay there a long while letting the candlelight and music wash over us. Soon we are kissing, a slow, sweet kiss that started simply and ended with me sitting astride him, and his erect cock between us.
“I’m sorry,” he says ruefully.
I kiss him and lower myself onto his cock. Ooooohhhhh sooooooo delicious. We both moan, and I stay there for a moment, his cock twitching inside me, while we savor the sensation. Our pleasure is more than feeling, it’s an event, a natural wonder, a miracle. Holy. That pause is an obeisance to the magic we produce. I make this a slow one, feeling every inch of pleasure, slooooly up and down, back and forth. Loving every inch of him, killing him softly. He’s squeezing my ass and when he starts biting and sucking my nipples I throw my head back in surrender to the alchemy of our bodies, to our desire, and to our response to each other. Every caress and kiss he bestowed on me had a corresponding response/reaction in my pussy or in my muscles. Our bodies were speaking a language we didn’t know existed. I rode his precious cock until I had to come or die, scratching, biting and splashing the bath water halfway across the room.
But he wasn’t done (of course). He bent me over the edge of the tub and fucked me slowly, savoring my insatiable pussy and her squeezing response, slowly pulling out and going all, all the way deep into her, and savoring that velvet squeeze, making me whimper and writhe, and then pulling out almost all the way so that I could feel his tip throbbing just inside me, matching my heartbeat.
“Please.” “Please,” I begged.
He didn’t move, but I could hear him breathing hard. His grip on my hips was like iron.
I writhed against him moaning in protest.
And he slapped my ass so hard I yelped, and then rammed me.
slam-slam-slam-slam-slam-slam, until we were both screaming and I gushed all over the tub.
A few minutes later, we walked into the shower stall to clean up and in the mirror we looked like two zombies. Sex zombies. We were starving and we showered and dressed quickly so we could go get something to eat.