MiraculousPart 3I can't begin to say how it felt when his mouth closed around me. No - way out of my experience. Being touched - caressed, swallowed - by a sunbeam comes close, but not fucking close enough! I've never been particularly vocal during oral sex. Just needed to get there, y'know? C'mon, boy - or girl, as the case may be...go, go GO! Fuck, what a revelation he was! Gentle, sweet, nibbling, tasting, moaning low in his throat, he did it as if I was the most important thing in his universe. I know he was, in mine. Gave every inch of me the minutest attention. Drove every fucking nerve ending to the brink of insanity. I think I screamed. I'm not sure. Something came out of me that I'd never experienced before. Some primeval, I so need to fuck you, NOW! noise. I lay there, drowning in sensation, unable to speak, while he kissed all the bits south of the equator, and then worked his way up to my mouth. "Good?", he asked. I nodded. God, I couldn't have spoken, then, to save my life. And that's how it was with him, from then on. I was totally and utterly enchanted. Yeah, like I was under a spell, or something. He sighed, and turned on his back. "That was very nice", he said. Very fucking NICE? I had just had the cathartic experience of the fucking millennium, and all he could say about it was it was Very Nice! Shit! With sugar on! I had to ask him. "Lighe, why did you stop me - y'know?" I was suddenly shy. Me! The Man! I ran my hand up and down his arm, just to feel the silk under my fingers. He turned to look at me with a serious expression on his flushed little face. "Um...I, er...don't want to do that until...fuck it!", he exclaimed, sitting up.He was so earnest and intense, I wanted to squeeze him until he squeaked - but I didn't move. I waited for him to finish. "I want to be in love, Dom, when I do that. That is something I'm - fuck - saving, if you like, for the ...for him." "Who?", I swallowed. Someone else, is there? I felt a ton weight descend into my stomach. "For the love of my life - for him. For...oh, you know, for my..." "Husband? Spouse? Mate?", I offered. Fuck, I was feeling generous - not! "Yeah, that's it", he sighed, relieved. "And is there any possibility that this...paragon of virtue...could, in some future time frame - be me?" He smiled at me. "Who knows, dude? Fuck, - it could be. I don't know!" He didn't know? Here was I, bound by inexplicable, unimaginable chains of love to this man, who... didn't know! Well, fuck you, Elwood! I smiled back at him. Love is like that. "Yeah, Lighe. Who knows?" We went to bed, and spent the rest of the night wrapped in each others arms. The next day was a rare day off for him, and he had planned exactly what he was going to do with it. I waited, patiently, to find out if this plan included me in any part of it. "....Wanna come?", he asked, over the cornflakes and toast. "Yeah! 'Course!" I was still thinking about the indescribably erotic expression on his face, last night, when he came. I naturally did not divulge this to him, as he had his mouth full of cereal, and I did not want him to choke. I had no fucking idea where we were headed. I would have willingly gone to a sewing circle if that's where he was going. We ended up in a cd shop somewhere just outside Wellington, where he spent the sort of money I would only consider putting as a deposit on a house, on little bits of plastic. We played one in the car, as we sped off to lunch. It was loud and had a beat. Who it was, I hadn't a fucking clue, but it was definitely not the Beatles! We went to Billy's for dinner. He does a mean Spag bol. When he let us in, our ears were assailed by the screech of several cats fighting. Or that's what it sounded like. "Oh, dude, have mercy, here! What the fuck's that?" Protested the little one, pouting at Billy. Bill had no fucking fellow feelings. He pushed Lighe into a seat. "That, my friend, is an Elizabethan madrigal! Listen and learn!" Lighe subsided, and shut up. He was a polite kid! The track changed. It was a man with a very high voice. Lighe and I just looked at each other, and forbore comment. "What's he singing, Bills?", I asked - out of politeness, really. "Miraculous, Love's Wounding", Bill answered, and went to stir his sauce. I sat there, listening. The words changed. They were Old English, or something. I couldn't understand them - any of them, except "Miraculous, Love's Wounding", and, even then, "wounding" was sung to rhyme with "sounding". I heard the word "dart" and "heart", and "resounding". Yeah, that's what I felt. As if I'd been stabbed in the heart by cupid's dart. Oh, fuck! A poet, now! Miraculous, Love's Wounding. Yeah, too fucking true! And I was destined to a life of total misery, if he didn't join in with the miracle. God help me! |
