The Meeting

I wake and begin to wonder if it’s morning or evening. I so hate falling asleep in late afternoon and trying to figure out if I’m seeing dawn or dusk as I lay there trying to gain my senses. A few moments pass before I decide it’s dusk and then question why I care one way or the other.

It’s been an exhausting time of late, with work an all the other crap. God, six days a week of work and there seems to be no progress at all. I know there is but it doesn’t seem like there is. The project groans on and the bosses seemed pleased, which is good, I hate it when they’re on my ass over things I have no control of. And this project is not in anyone’s hands but the code toads, and those little geeks live life by their own rules. Mostly the bosses have no concept of that, if the project is late they want to blame someone, and until a body is found to pin it on they hold meetings, shout at odd times, slam phones down (mostly on their wives) and continue to pop pills in the hopes that they can calm down long enough to give upper management a story good enough for them to keep their jobs. They’re all heart attacks looking for a place to happen.

Funny part about all of that is in prior companies, I was one of them. I could get my subordinates to double their output by them assuming I was pissed when I wasn’t. I could be happy as a lark, but they’d never know it nor would they ever, ever, see me smile. What a crock, and after years of that I gave it up. I didn’t walk away from it, I ran for my life, and now I’m lying here thinking about how that happened.

God, it’s only been a couple of months, but it seems like so much longer. Strange how that works too, some memories are as fresh as yesterday, and sometimes, yesterday’s memories are a hundred years old. I ponder that for a moment and think back to you. Oh yes, I can actually do that now, which is surprising because for weeks I absolutely couldn’t. Thoughts of you and what we’d done possessed me with black magical qualities that bordered on insanity. I thought when I was in the depths of it I’d lost my mind, but being able to gaze back to that time from the present helped me understand that I hadn’t, I just tripped and fell.

I ponder you for a moment longer. Yes, you’d told me right up front how it would be and in my infinite “I can fix anything” wisdom chose to ignore your warnings. All of my successes in life have been procuring results that everyone else thought could never be reached. I thrived on it, I lived on it, and I’ve become very rich doing it. Who the hell were you to tell me I couldn’t do it with us? I was alone and wasn’t going to tell anyone. You were alone and opted not to speak to others about it, what was to lose? But you told me point blank not to go there. You said over and over if the “L” word slipped in, you’d be gone and the only thing I’d have to cling to would be my prick and memories of you that would take forever to fade. When I asked who you were, and your response was that you were my designated fuck, I should have heeded the warning. But I did go there and suddenly the party was over and you’d slipped into whatever dark place it was you went to for solace. Thinking of you now as I lay on the moss, I start getting hard and I fight the urge to stoke myself to bliss.

What is so strange about all of this is you yourself. While I’ve held you, made love to you, even had you fuck me senseless; I find the beginning of “us” amazing. Okay, let the world know we met on the net in a strange place called Literotica where you wrote something that caught my attention. I wrote you, you responded and ultimately set up a place to meet. Here in the forest where we ultimately connected in ways I never thought possible still shakes me to my core. But in the beginning, before the meeting my brain tried to imagine how you were put together, or what race, nationality, or skin color you possessed. Lying in bed at night I loved what my mind did when it pictured you. One moment you would white, the next black, and on one particular night as I thought of it, you were this magnificent creature of raceless composition. Sometimes you’d be overweight, sometimes under. Sometimes you had magnificent breasts, and at other times you barely possessed them. Your complexion ran the gamut and I'd imagined them all on you. I found all variations of you intriguing, but not pulling at my mind in a way that I had to know. I’d envisioned you lazily floating in a pool motionless, and then dash madly across a meadow, your hair flowing like silken sheets behind you as you race to the edge of the forest to conceal your nakedness from others prying eyes. Yes there was a current as there is between two people that dare enough to explore the possibilities of friendship. Not the precursor of a sexual connection one might seek, or a masturbatory collection of writings we could fling back and forth across the net. But an honest connection between two people as different in age and placed as impossibly distant as two human beings on this planet could get. Well, we thought so until we were honest with each other as to our location and the stunning realization that we could actually meet.

Oh by the way, I did the same with your name. I liked Christina, but then I was also fond of calling you Sonnova, Rebecca, Linda, Susie, Constance, and Lucy. I could imagine that you were a Judy, or Carol, and the possibility of Ingrid brought out the Norse image, which I found pleasant. Roberta came out once (I quickly shed that one) as has Nikki, Rachel, Elizabeth, Jordan, and Theresa. Funny little game and I enjoyed it. But the reality of all of that is that you became my friend. The woman I shared secrets without inhibitions or embarrassment, and that was what was important. Then I screwed it up.

I know, I know, I’m back in the forest and I shouldn’t be. I should resign myself to your absence and go on, but I can’t do that. Here, right here on the forest floor, in this very spot we connected. I return for… well, that’s obvious isn’t it? I come here day after day, lay naked on the moss and think of all the things you taught me. I’m almost to the point where I don’t need to, and honestly, I missed coming here yesterday, so you see it’s getting better. I’m not completely obsessed anymore, and soon I’ll be rid of the urge to dwell here. Tomorrow will be the beginning as I’ve actually booked a holiday on a cruise ship. I’ll be gone ten days, and why? Well I can’t come here, now can I? I’ll be safely isolated from here by the deep sea and the knowledge that I could never swim that far. I’m taking this trip to celebrate what you taught me, and my finally getting it. Kind of a graduation present to me that I now realize even you would appreciate.

A noise catches my attention and I turn my head to the sunset and catch my breath. I calm down again when I convince myself that what I see as you is really my imagination playing those awful tricks on me again. I’ve gone to restaurants and thought I saw you sitting on the other side of the room. Driving along the street I’d be positive it was you on the sidewalk, only to get closer and realize it wasn’t you at all, but some anonymous female who looked a little pissed because she thought I was gawking at her. So I turn my head back to the sky and sigh, curse the nasty little bastard I’ve come to know as my imagination and my ears hear it again. Dutifully I turn my head to the noise and… you move!

I sit up, but can’t gain my feet. I’m immobilized, stunned, and a million thoughts race through my mind, all vying for dominance and none winning the battle. Pissed, yes one of those thoughts is pissed. Pissed at you because you left, and now even more pissed that you’re back. Do you need to fuck with my mind some more? Oh sweet Jesus don’t do that, whatever happens now, don’t mess with my mind, I’m on the verge here. I’m struggling to draw my next breath, my hearts trying to beat its way free of my rib cage, and now my hands don’t work.

It’s that time of day where shadow blends to dark and dark glides across the ground like a snake on the prowl. It doesn’t make any noise, but it should, darkness should come like thunder, or a loud waterfall that warns you long before you get close, that it’s there. Darkness should fall with noise, as dawn should begin with a melody. But it doesn’t, it creeps up like a thief in the night, and in this case the thief is once again hiding you.

You’re a dark figure like a well-designed inkblot, gliding to me silently and your delicious smell beats you to me. You’ve come again at a time where I cannot distinguish if you are blonde or brunette, black or white, but I know it’s you, I so know it’s you, and you are so naked. I close my eyes and inhale and when I open them you’re standing in front of me. One leg on each side of my outstretched useless legs, your womanhood inches from my nose. You rest your right hand on the top of my head and whisper, “Is that for me?” as you point to my erection with your left. I slowly nod my head to affirm it.

“Taste me,” you say next.

I do, and suddenly my hands reconnect with my brain and I put them on your ass and delve into places that for too long have been only in my head. You rise up on your toes, throw your head back and moan. Your left hand joins the right now, both grabbing fists full of hair and pressing me closer. We’re locked in this embrace for a few moments and just as suddenly as you grabbed my hair, you release it, fall to your knees and kiss me. Your tongue flicks out and slides across my chin, you taste yourself and smile. Oh beguiler of men, oh sweet woman of my fantasy, you are so back.

One hand on each cheek you caress me with your lips and tongue as I return your caress with ones of my own to your hair. We cling for a moment and you draw back, look me deep in the eye and say, “Now!”

You wheel around, point your butt in my direction and as you look over your shoulder to me and nod. I’m there in an instant, plugged in and held warm. The moist wet place is just as I remember it, soft, hard, firm, tight, milking things of me that speak of bliss soon-to-come. Your elbows are on the ground with your forehead resting on your hands, almost as if you are praying.

It’s animal time, and we go with it. I strive to stay with you but realize the moment we connected you came. I’m surprised and pleased because it was always me first, so what is this? Am I better now? Can I run this race and finishafter you do? I’ve no sooner had that thought when your velvet touch reaches my balls. Oh god, how did you know? But we dare not speak, we can’t break this with noise, this is the physical part we have always had, and both of us understand it. That physical moment that requires no talk, no noise, just the soft velvet sliding sound that betrays the location of our connection. You turn your toes inward and hook the arches of your feet squarely behind my knees. Now we’re connected and I put my hands around each breast to complete the embrace. Nipples between my middle and index fingers and I gently massage them for both of us. You groan and press your head harder into your palms.

Time stops for both of us. It’s dark now, and we could care less, night creatures are going to be moving soon but we pay no heed to that either. It’s a mission now, full blown and moving. We’ll get there with nothing but our nerves left and most of those will be shattered, but it’s what we seek, and we continue the head long rush into that sexual oblivion that only lovers can reach and they’ll speak to no one but their partner about the trip.

The explosion we both have is not only physical but takes voice. Yours beginning with a low moan, ending in a high-pitched scream, while mine goes on til I’m breathless as one long, non-stop moan. At the height of yours a covey of quail scatters from their roost above us, fleeing the monster they perceive under their tree. Hearing their wings beating the air, and the sharp whistle of their departure, you collapse laughing, and I slip up your back and hold your body tight. We’re both laughing now, hysterically, and if anyone asked what was so funny we’d just look at each other and go on. Who can ever understand what passes between lovers? Who can even try to explain it? Not me, I could never do it, I know of no one that can.

“You miss me?” You ask.

“Not at all.” I reply

“Liar.” You whisper, turn to me, and deeply kiss me.

“Fuck you.” I say pulling back.

“You just did.” Then add, “Oh, and thanks, I needed that.”

“And I didn’t?” I pull back as you try to kiss me again.

“I know what you need, and I know what you want. Problem is you can’t have both.” You finish.

Now I’m mad. Freshly fucked and mad as a hatter which seems like an oxymoron, but that’s the way it is. You’ve blown my balls and cut me to the bone all within the matter of seconds. But then calmness suddenly engulfs me and I relax in your arms.

You look at me with questions in your eyes, but stay silent for a moment. You reach out; kiss my nose, then my lips, and then pull back staring and silent.

“I’ve gotten it.” I state simply.

“Bullshit.” You reply.

“First I’m a liar, and now it’s bullshit? I don’t think so. I meant what I just said, I really do get it!” I finish, and I’m elated at my new mood.

“Tell me.” You say. Not a question, not a demand, but a simple request.

“I know no one can keep you.” I start. “You are your own person, living in your own universe, living your own life, gliding through meadows, tantalizingly close to someone like me, but as skittish as a colt should someone try to hang on or even get close to you.”

You nod agreement, but say nothing.

“Yes, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, and making love with you was the most exquisite moment of my life. I wanted to spend every waking moment with you or in you; it didn’t matter, just as long as I could be around you.”

You lean in and kiss my forehead, then ask, “So what happened?”

“I’ve finally understood who you are.” I reply.

“You’ve told me, I’m a great fuck.” You coo.

“Yes, but it’s a little more complicated than that. You are one of those rare creatures that must have her freedom. Not freedom in a sexual way, to hump whomever you want, whenever you want. Not that kind of freedom at all. You’re not promiscuous, you’re faithful, you’d never cheat on a person, as a matter of fact, I truly believe it would be impossible for you to ever cheat. What makes you unique, and the rarest of the rare is that like a thorough bred horse, you need your space. Oh you can settle for a moment and run a fantastic race, but when it’s over and you’ve been rubbed down you need to be put back in the pasture to roam and run and kick without anything connected to you in any way. You could never stay the night in the stall, it’s too confining. It holds you back and reminds you of how captive you are. Being in a relationship, seeing you each day, or trying to live with you would be like that stable. Too confining, and all the while you’re in there you know the pasture is out there, beyond the wall, full of promise and goodness and where you really need to be. You have to be loved, but can never be owned. You want to know that the one that loves you most trusts you truly, will always be there when you want him to be, and never come sneaking around just because he wants to be with you.”

“Life is lived by your definition, no one else’s. If a man is willing to let you be you then the rewards will far out strip anything that could be given in being with each other all the time.”

You tilt your head, lift your hand and run your fingers through my hair, yet remain quiet.

“I want to be that guy. I love your grace and elegance, not only as you walk through this forest, but also as we make love. I’ve a good job, a nice place to live, and I’m comfortable with my life. I have no idea what you have or where you work, but I know you’re comfortable with whom you are. You’re the one everybody in the family thinks should be married, and are sad because you aren’t. You’re the only one that not only doesn’t want to be married; you have no intention of ever being so, but could never bring yourself to tell them that. What is important to you first and foremost is to be your own person, live life on your terms and for people to understand that you are fulfilled without the claustrophobic, suffocating complications of a relationship. What is also important to you is sex. Not mindless sex with any number of partners, but with one who is as faithful to you as you would be to him. Someone that can be there when you need them, and not hanging around waiting to put his stiffy in you whenever he feels the urge. Sex, like life itself is controlled by you, no one else. That was the hardest part of this whole thing for me to get, but I finally have.”

“I’m leaving for ten days and I’ll be back then. When I get back, I won’t come here unless you post a card to me. I’m in the phone book, as is my address. You drop a line when you need to have this stallion fill your little filly cunt and I’ll come to you.” I finish, and rise up to leave.

You lay there for a moment, and then standing up; you pull me into your arms.

“Have a nice trip,” you say, and then finish with, “I’ll see you when you get back.”

I put my clothes on as you slip away and return with yours. We dress silently, and when done, you reach out, put both my hands in yours, lean in and kiss me deeply.

“I love you,” I say.

“I know,” you reply.

“Be safe,” I finish.

“I will thanks.” You reply and we both turn and leave, neither one looking back.

God I think, I fixed that didn’t I? Just like I always have, just like my whole life has been, and I did it just the way she wanted me to. I smile and trudge forward, loving her even more, because for the first time in my life I truly get it. Now she owns me and I’m happy about it. I’ll be her boy toy fuck doll anytime she wants. We’ll talk and giggle, and cherish the moments we’re together for the rest of our days and I shall never know when she’ll call me. I shall be there whenever she does, and respond to her as she wishes. That truly is what I’ve wanted all along; I just didn’t have the courage to admit it. I still don’t know her name, but right now find nothing odd about that.

Ah life, such a mystery, such a gift.