That Day

 
  "It is complete within seconds, that monument.
  The blood runs underground yet brings forth a tower."
            Anne Sexton

It could have been a dream. I mean it had been a dream so many other times, a dream of a woman, no, not just any woman, of her... her walking the narrow aisles between the desks, each step slightly crossing in front of her, accentuating the sway of her hips like models on a run way. It could have been a dream but for my cock, achingly hard, driven by a life-force beyond any reason tight against the tight fabric, in through the seams of my underwear, tangling beyond all possibility of adjustment.

It was hot, incredibly so, as the sweat rolled down my temples, over my cheeks and jaws, then tickling down my neck. It was hot, yet she kept on, completely unaffected by the stifling air, flipping through her book before raising her gaze to us and huskily saying, "Ah, here's one you might enjoy. It's called 'The Breast,' one I wrote. I wrote... oh hell, what does it matter when I wrote it?"

I gritted my teeth, wanting to reach under the desk and extricate my erection from the tangled mess of my jockey shorts, but she seemed to be staring at me. My hands grabbed my desk as I held on.

"The Breast," she started, peeking up over the book for a moment and then returning,

"This is the key to it.
This is the key to everything.
Preciously..."

The woman, the poet, unbelievably Anne Sexton was reading to the class, to me as my cock screamed at me. Her words led my fingers down over the full, silk slip she wore, over the thin strap at her shoulders, down the slippery fabric and over those two wonderful mounds."

"...So tell me anything but track me like a climber
for here is the eye, here is the jewel,
here is the excitement the nipple learns..."

I could see her nipples in the white, casting curved shadows over the slight mounds, pressing against her fabric like my erection pressed mine. I imagined the two, nipple and cock straining for each other, longing the touch, the connection, the blood fired sensation.

She rustled through some more pages, snapping me back to the classroom. I focused back on her, noticing how her hair parted on one side with short bangs combed across her face, her forehead peeking around the side. On the side her hair rolled down over her ears and hovered just above her shoulders, curving under as if to caress her neck. Her neck and shoulders were thin, like you would expect from an ex-lingerie model, and likewise, her breasts formed two small mounds each accentuating a firm knob pressing out from the center.

"The Nude Swim," she began as I winced, feeling each word slide up the length of my shaft. I began to tremble.

"...we found a little unknown grotto..."

I entered the water with her.

“...and let our bodies lose all
their loneliness."

"Ahem," she half coughed, trying to regain my attention. I looked up and the classroom was empty, the bell had rung and the other students had left the room, all while I remained in the grotto with Anne.

I slid my chair back and began to stand, but immediately let myself fall back onto the molded plastic. Starting to reach down to adjust my erection to a less noticeable position, I realized she was staring at me. Looking up I saw here half seated on the desk, one leg lifted slightly off the floor.

"You hesitate?" she asked.

"I ah, uhm, I ah, well..."

"It is often like "The Nude Swim," she said.

"Huh?"

"It's just that there are times we suddenly feel naked, exposed and yet, if the moment is right, the people right."

"Ou… ou…our bodies lose all their loneliness…," I stammered.

"You were listening!"

"Yes, of course."

"It's just that I wasn't sure."

"I was listening," I said.

"Come here," she said in an almost whisper.

"But…"

"Come here now. No. no, just stand up and come here," she said, sternly this time.

I slowly stood up, feeling my cock press impossibly against my pants. Glancing down at the tent protruding from my clothes, I reached to make an adjustment.

"No, leave it alone, just come here."

I limped forward, each movement bringing a combination of pain and pleasure as my underwear chaffed against my rigid rod. Unsure of what to expect, I continued toward her until I stopped at the second row of desks.

Easing down off the desk, she motioned me closer and as I got within reach, both her hands went to my belt. Seeing me look over to the door, she leaned forward and whispered, "The door is locked, the shade pulled."

Her hands deftly unfastened my belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, pulling them down to about my mid-thigh. My cock pointed straight out, stretching the cotton jockey shorts toward Anne.

"We are so naked sometimes," she said, firmly grasping my cock. She slid her hand down my length, turning slightly as her hand moved from the head to the base of my member. "So naked," she repeated as her hand continued moving.

At her first touch I felt an electric shock jolt though me and with her continued motion on me I was overcome with sensation, unlike anything I had ever experienced by myself or with another woman. After feeling her three quick jerks on my cock I involuntarily arched my back towards her and then watched the dark, wet stain form and grow over my shorts. Anne held me tightly as the wet spot expanded beneath her fingers.

In utter silence I watched as she moved her hand, drawing her fingers coated in my sticky white up to her lips. She touched her tongue to her glistening finger and then moved her hand to my mouth. Gently opening my lips, she pushed her fingers into my mouth, staring into my eyes as I sucked my cum off her.

When she slowly withdrew her fingers from my mouth, I felt my face flush with embarrassment at my complete lack of control. "I am so sorry, I've never..." Her hands clamped on my face as she pulled me to her, silencing me with her kiss. Her tongue slid into my mouth with a fierce intensity, but as I began to respond, she pulled back and pulled my head quickly downward, driving onto my knees.

I awkwardly caught my balance, with my pants still at mid-thigh, and my jockey shorts drenched in my cum. I watched her lift her skirt over her slight hips and, after easing herself up onto the desk, she opened her legs. I could see the dark patch of her hair through the lace of her panties and looking closer, I noticed a damp spot running down the center. The air was suddenly humid, fragrant.

She reached down, slowly curled her fingers around the edge of the lace and pulled it to one side exposing dark beautiful curls of hair and her delicate slit, only slightly parted. I moved forward, easing my tongue into the slit, working it from side to side until I gained some depth. I slowly worked my tongue upward, carefully opening her as I moved, savoring the faint hint of her taste until I rolled up and over her clit.

I felt my cock begin to stiffen again at the very thought of my tongue rolling over the most sensitive part of this incredible woman. Moving back downward, I pressed my tongue deeper this time, slipping past her swelling lips into the shockingly tart taste of her pussy. The pungent flavor excited me and I felt my cock once again press hard against my shorts.

My tongue circled, rimming her wet, soft opening, drawing her damp taste over my tongue as I reached up and grabbed her thighs, pulling her closer to me. Glancing upward, I could see her staring greedily down at me, her lips moving, saying something. I then slid my tongue up and pinched her clit between my lips, gently sucking on it. Whatever Anne was saying transformed into a guttural growl as she wrapped her legs around me and locked them at the ankles, drawing even closer to her.

Forcing my head back against her legs, I caught my breath and took a good look at her, now fully open to me, wet, almost pleading. Diving forward I shoved my tongue as deep into her body as I could, feeling the soft walls of her cunt twitch around me. Her hips rose up, driving her against me as I moved between clit and cunt, entering her and then sucking her into my mouth, again and again.

She came so beautifully I felt tears well in my eyes, her hands grabbing my head, her cunt contracting over my tongue, then flooding me with her wetness, her thighs trembling and her whole body melting above me. I paused then, my tongue still pressed inside her, savoring the intermittent pulses inside her as she relaxed her legs and hands. Feeling one last pulsation in her pussy, I pulled back, expecting her to collapse back onto the desk, but instead, she pulled me back up into a standing position and groaned, "Take these off," pulling at my jockey shorts.

I stepped back, kicked off my shoes and removed my pants and underwear. Looking down, I could see my cock still glistened some, still covered in my cum. Moving my gaze back to Anne, I saw her removing her bra, then sudden stand before me, completely naked. He body, showing few signs of age or the abuse she had given it, was stunning and I gasped as the sight of her.

She spread her arms, smiled and said, "Naked."

I opened my arms to embrace her, but she put her hand on my chest and said, "Lay down, on your back."

I sat down on the carpet, leaned back as she stepped over me, straddling my body. Lowering herself onto her knees I began to speak again, "When Man Enters Woman." Fuck, she was reciting her poetry as she prepared to fuck me. My head spun at the thought and I closed my eyes as I felt her take firm hold of my cock.

"When man," she held me to her lips, and then began to slide down over me.

"...enters woman,
like the surf biting the shore," My cock was deep inside her know and she began to move up, and then down again.

"...again and again..." The sensation of her opening and ever so slowly sliding down the length of me sent chills through my body. She continued reading the poem, but I lost myself in the sensation. I could feel every wet fold of her as she moved over me, taking me deep inside her body and then slipping away, lightly drawing me with her.

"...and the man
inside of woman..." I was inside her, feeling her depth, the soft but firm walls, the gentle squeezing, the flow of her, her surging rhythm, moving faster now. Her hands grabbed me, pressing my flesh as she came down on me, taking me to the hilt and the quickly withdrawing only to crash back onto me.

Her poem became a chant, almost screamed,
"This man,
this woman."

I think we came together, I couldn't be sure, one moment we are slamming ourselves together and then the next we collapsed, my cock surging, spraying my cum into her, her cunt pulsing, seeming to draw my cum from me. Her breasts fell onto my chest, flattening beneath her weight, her hair falling on my face, her breath, hot and wet on my cheek. We didn't move as the last of the pleasure moved over us, our cum mixing, oozing from us, wetting our skin and hair in its beautiful warmth.

As we caught our breaths, I wondered if this would become a poem. I decided it wouldn't, couldn't for how could anyone, even Anne Sexton capture the intensity, the sensation, the intense pleasure we had just shared. In moments, she proved me wrong, reciting to me:

"...you must be a poet,
a lady of evil luck
desiring to be what you are not,
longing to be
what you can only visit."

I began to speak, but she held a finger to my lips and shook her head, "No." We silently dressed, she unlocked the door and we both left, each heading down a different corridor. I repeated the last words she spoke to me, "...longing to be what you can only visit." Before the month was over she was dead, leaving me alone, with only "that day" to remember her.

Note: Excerpts from Anne Sexton's poems are presented in italics including: "That Day," "The Breast," "The Nude Swim," "When Man Enters Woman," and "The Fish That Walked," all as published in The Complete Poems, Anne Sexton, Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston, New York 1981