Naked: How to Dress the Truth Ch. 01

Her insides felt liquid and twisting in knots. Her eyes drifted over the photo, the way her breast pressed into his chest, the way her nipples tingled, rubbing against his skin. So intensely alive and vivid, her senses heightened, tuned to the sounds he made with his thrusting, the slap of his body against hers made it all the more arousing, turned on by the sounds themselves. She couldn't tell anymore what she was responding to. And yet, the more intense it all felt, the more isolated it made her feel. The involvement that had been there just moments earlier was gone. She wanted to remind him that she was there, a part of what was happening. She wanted that sense of involvement back. Alison started to kiss him again, his neck, along his cheek, had to turn her face almost sideways to get under him to his lips. The shock came quickly. Her lips barely brushed his and he invaded her a second time. She moaned. She had been wrong. It could get physically closer, his mouth pressed as tightly against hers as did the rest of his body weighing down on her, his tongue exploring hers.

"You asked what's going on in the photo," Alison said, almost angrily. "Call the photo 'double penetration'. That's what's happening."

"That's .. intense," Gregory replied, surprised by the bluntness of her remark.

"I was kissing him to get back in touch." That's when this photo was taken.

Alison massaged her aching abdomen, looked from Gregory back to the screen. She had tried to match the rhythm of his thrusting but he had her pinned, her muscles tensing and relaxing, failing to meet his thrusts. Finally, the strain of her effort crashed over her in one long burning wave of passion and she moaned again, their mouths working. She wanted to open herself and take something closer into her. She pushed her tongue deeper into him, and ignited the start of an orgasm. In that storm of sensations she was already experiencing, she felt herself swept up to yet another level of intensity.

"God, I was .. just .. so turned on," Alison whispered with a disbelieving shake of her head. "So .. fucking turned on. I was on the edge of another orgasm." She looked up to Gregory. "I was afraid. It was getting out of control. I looked for you and you weren't there." Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"What? I don't understand."

Within that raging, chaotic and deliriously heavenly delicious storm .. if that wasn't enough .. something else bubbled up within her, another surge of longing. It was too much. "What I was doing," Alison continued. "The physical part, everything that I was feeling. It ... I started feeling what I feel when we are together." She had to stop. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the tears to meander down her cheeks, tried to rub them away with her fingers. "I felt lost, that I'd gone too far. I didn't know what was connected to what or where I was or what to do and you weren't there."

"I was right there, practically beside you."

"No. There!" she whispered hoarsely, looking back at the screen. "You're not there in the picture, I was physically on fire, and emotions were surging up in me that didn't belong there. You were supposed to be there and instead there was this other guy I hardly know."

"So you felt you had crossed another boundary?"

Alison pressed her palms against her temples. "Maybe. No. I don't know. It didn't feel that way, I didn't cross any boundary in what I was doing. But something else got in, and it didn't belong there. There was just so much going on, all mixed up. I panicked."

"Yeah, I thought I saw something on your face."

"You did?" She sniffled, took another deep breath.

"I noticed something. At the time I didn't think much of it. It came and went. You did look as though you suddenly were trying to claw your way out of a pit of quicksand."

Relief hit so hard that she had to force back another wave of tears. "Really? I just wanted to get back to you, to hold you."

"You did indeed do that," he said, smiling. She felt her face flush. "No need to blush with me," he continued. She bent forward and kissed his chest, rested a hand on his stomach, brushing it with her fingers. "That's why, when you started looking uneasy over the past couple days, I started wondering about that moment of panic of yours, and the photos." He gave her another hug. "Besides, if what you're now saying is what you felt at the time, then you salvaged the situation for yourself like an expert."

"What do you mean?" she sniffed, rubbing her nose with the back of a hand.

"You nudged at his shoulders, raised a leg and sort of rolled over onto your side and reached for me. It was so smooth that I'm not sure he even had to remove his cock from you."

Alison grimaced. "I don't remember what I did, I just wanted out." She kissed his chest again, her hand caressed down his abdomen, found his penis, cupped it, massaged it gently, and it began to grow. She could feel it swell in her hand and feathered its length with her fingers. It began to stiffen. She gripped it in her fist and began a slow pumping motion. She looked up from under raised brows. "What do we have here, Greg?"

"These aren't pictures of flowers we're looking at, and listening to you describe what you were feeling .." Gregory reached over and rubbed her stomach. "Still hurt?" he asked. She only looked up at him, her eyes still moist, her other hand now exploring the shape of his erection. He shifted, turned towards her, touched her abdomen, her thighs, touched her cotton panties, his fingers between her legs .. gave her a questioning look, and she smiled, winced, pulled her head into her shoulders. He slipped his fingers under her panties and drew them out, wet, and spread the wetness over her abdomen. "Do you want a towel?"

"No," she whispered, pulling him to her.

Gregory pulled Alison's cotton panties to one side, pushed the head of his erection against her vulva. A moment of resistance then his erection glided in one fluid motion completely into her. Her neck arched, eyes widened, throat constricted in a short gasp of delight. Gregory began to probe, almost withdrawing and slipping only part of his full length in.

Alison dug her fingernails into his shoulders. "Don't tease me."

Gregory understood what that meant. She wanted it all, full length penetration, and she began bucking into him for emphasis. She grunted with each hard thrust of her hips. Her weightlifter sound, he'd tease, but a much more feminine, a softer delicate grunting. Alison pressed her forehead into his neck, her arms around him, and grunted with each thrust. Whenever she began this frantic movement the best Gregory could manage, to avoid slipping out of her, was to move as little as possible, to hold position at some half way point and only at deepest penetration meet her hips with his.

It didn't take long. The strain and effort of her grunts and groans were soon replaced by short gasps, those replaced by a ragged panting, and those by whimpers. The force of her own thrusting diminished as her body tightened, her back arched. She froze, while Gregory continued the deep thrusting. Alison stopped breathing, her body began to shake in a series of contractions, her head bent back into the mattress, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream. Then she collapsed, all the tension in her body released in one long sweet guttural cry. Gregory continued to thrust, while she lay limp and quivering under him.

It was as if a bolt of electricity shot through her. Alison's body shook in a violently spasm. "No, stop."

Another thrust. "Stop," she gasped. "Stop."

Gregory rested on his elbows, motionless. Alison lay panting, eyes closed, cheeks flushed pink, strands of her hair damp across her brow. Gregory shifted, to take his weight off her. She spasmed again. "Shh, don't move," she whispered, turned her head with half open eyes and kissed him. "Don't move."

Quietly they laid, Alison's breathing slowed. When Gregory attempted to lay beside her she tightened her grip on him. "Stay right where you are," she sighed. He slipped a hand under her t-shirt and cupped a breast. She placed a hand over his, to keep him still. "Don't move," she whispered.

Time passed. Gregory eased out of her, rolled onto his back and she cuddled into the nest made by his arm around her, head on his shoulder.

Time passed. "Feeling better?" Gregory asked.

She kissed his cheek, his mouth. A twinkle in her eyes. "Thanks, I needed that." she giggled. Then silent, eyes closed. Alison smiled.

"Are you conscious enough for a question?" Gregory asked.

"I don't know." She stifled a yawn.

The laptop's screen was black, in power-save mode. Gregory reached over, slid a finger over the touchpad, and the screen brightened, the three photos aligned left to right.

"Do you realize how long all that took?" he asked.

Alison looked over to the photos. How much time? It hadn't occurred to her. "No, I have no idea."

"Three or four minutes at most. It all happened so quickly that none of us noticed much. Even you. You were doing fine the whole time. And now you're stressed out by something that came and went in a few seconds, and ignoring everything else."

"Maybe I'm being silly," she yawned. "It's only when I was thinking about it later that this fear surfaced again. I know it's just one short moment, but the length of time doesn't matter. It's the thought, and it's still here in my mind, festering. It ties my stomach in knots."

"Allie, a person can see faces in a summer cloud. That's how the mind works. What you said, you were overwhelmed, carried away by so much happening that you hardly knew what you were feeling or why. In that state of mind you can see patterns in nothing at all. Just like these photos on the screen. You don't know what connection is the correct one. But there isn't a correct one. You don't have to choose. The middle photo, number three, is a mix of both. It's a mix. There isn't any correct order to them, and you can interpret any one of them any way you want. What's important is which interpretation you choose to act on."

"I know, Greg. That doesn't make it any easier to deal with. Especially after the fact."

"Myopic hindsight. And what do you conclude about acting out fantasies?"

"Be careful? Go slow? I think that if you don't know what you're doing then it can go so wrong in so many ways."

Gregory nodded. Alison puckered her lips, Gregory puckered his and they kissed, and melted into what Alison liked to call a cuddle kiss, softening, lingering. She snuggled her forehead into his neck and closed her eyes.

"And being afraid. Think you understand what that's all about now."

"I'm not sure. No. I don't think so, not yet." Alison yawned. She hugged him. "Greg, I'm falling asleep. We'll have to continue tomorrow." She yawned again and closed her eyes.

He stroked her hair, reached over for the laptop and shut it down.

"Don't delete the photos," Alison added with impish grin, looking at him through half-opened eyelids.

"Don't worry about that," Gregory winked. He got out of bed and brought the laptop back to the desk and attached it to the power converter to recharge the battery. He heard Alison behind him, making soft noises. Alison didn't snore. She was adamant about it. "I might give a little snurk every once in a while, but that's it," she had once explained to him. He looked down at her and smiled. She was already asleep. He returned to the bed, turned off the reading lamp on the night table. Alison rolled onto her side, her back to him. He eased over to her, pulled back long strands of hair that veiled her face and kissed her cheek.

"Allie?" he whispered.

She replied with a snurk.

Gregory lay beside her, a hand on her waist. Alison wiggled her bum into him, took his hand and pulled his arm up around her like a blanket.