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The Healing

Erotic
2003-07-02

We often sat in silence, never speaking in words, yet knowing what the other was thinking, the electricity of wanton desire to taste each others flesh, to cleave to one another’s souls upon a bed of lust; I would often wonder how we had found one another. How did two lost lonely souls, who could never trust, never reveal our true selves and speak like a normal man and woman sit in silence, and not act upon our desires, our animalistic nature to reach out and consume each others soul? Was it coincidence or fate which brought us together? I don’t think that we were ever meant to know. I will never forget the night it happened. The night we all came together, you, me, our gang of friends we shared socially. As I folded my cards and lost yet another round of poker to the other participants in the game, I remember staring through the open passage to the kitchen where you stood at the stove stirring the gravy for the evening holiday meal. How I gazed upon your being, drank in your essence, lost in a trance as the very presence of you pulled me in, transfixed, you took me back, took me back to the time when I was a child, when I had seen you in a dream, how you had helped me, healed me, took away the pain that was always present in my heart ever since that one fateful day in the barn when an older boy had spilled his milky white seed upon my face after forcing me to take him in my mouth. As my soul filled with your warmth from across the expanse of the apartment, I remember that you slowly turned in my direction and smiled. The look in your eyes, warm, your guard down, the cold icy stare had melted and I was able to gaze deep into your soul and understand your pain, understand how you had been hurt, how as a child your innocence had been taken in a mad rush as a schoolboy twice your age had molested and raped you in the empty basement at school, destroying your virgin hairless flower, spilling his evil seed into you, laughing as he pulled his bloody cock from you and wiped it off on your small tender thigh where his grip had left a swelling bruise. The dinner you prepared that night nourished me as we all enjoyed the holiday feast you had delicately prepared. We had made some small talk as we all sat and shared the meal and drank wine from crystal glasses. As we ate, our eyes spoke to one another; once again, we shared tortured memories that no one else at the table could probably comprehend. Whether we wanted to face the reality and tread where we knew the power between us would be too strong, you and I were both kindred spirits, cut from the same spiritual cloth, yet so damaged that silk thread would not have done justice to our open wounds. After the feast, over coffee, and the chocolate cake that you had made, our eyes secured the deal between us. Our pact was that we would never speak to anyone of our pain, our torture, but we would share it only with each other, drown in it, letting our souls meld together in order to heal the wounds even if it meant that the power within our souls would drive us forever apart, knowing we would not have the strength and will to control the desire to consume one another and that one or both of us would parish. Later that evening, our friends and I bid you farewell, and thanked you once again for an excellent meal, for your warmth and generosity, although I knew better, knew the cold torment which encased your soul and that the reflection others saw in your eyes was merely a ruse, your shield of armor against the world. I lingered behind as I often did, not wanting to face the chill of the cold night air that awaited me.

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   For I knew that within the walls of your house, your domain, I was understood, I was welcome, I could stay as long as need be, keeping to myself, not having to speak, not having to share my thoughts with anyone. I remember as the last of our friends, stepped over the threshold of your humble abode, I stood, frightened like a young school boy to face the outside world, my eyes searching for yours, finding them, the cold icy frost that you displayed for the world gone, inviting me to look into your soul to nourish you, to quench your being. Unlike other nights where I had turned away, I stood watching you, the energy of your aura pulling at my heart, tugging, begging, pleading, in your own quiet way that you needed to be healed, you were tired of running the race, tired of running from the demons which had so often licked at your heals since that day in the basement. I trembled not with fright but with passion, with ecstasy as I stood before you. How my hands shook ever so slightly as I gently touched either side of your soft face, your cheeks warm, the look of your eyes as you beckoned me to come closer, your open mouth begging to be kissed, to taste your sweet enchantment. We stood for how long I do not know, in an embrace, your head lay on my shoulder, your chin tucked away safely between my shoulder and jaw. I remember the smell of your soft silky hair, a warm blanket to be wrapped in, comforting, inviting, refreshing, the muskiness of your skin, as it drifted to my nostrils and sent my senses reeling my cock growing hard. As if in a dream, we kissed again, our lips parted, our tongues exploring one another, trying to reach as deep as they could trying to quench the desire emanating from within our souls.
    I remember sliding my hands from the small of your back where they had found a resting place, to your small rounded buttocks, gently squeezing, slowly kneading, and pulling your hips to mine, a perfect fit like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, my hardness aching to slowly part the tender lips of your soft wet mound and to drown itself inside of you forever in the caress of your healing power. A moan escaped your lips, as one of my hands slide between your firm heart shaped buttocks, pressing upward, slightly lifting you off the ground as my fingertips caressed your warm wet cunt tucked away underneath white panties and Levi’s. We stood for some time like this, you and I, slowly dancing a lover’s dance, as I smelled your tangy feminine odor, our bodies hot to one another’s touch through clothes that now only served as a barrier to hide our nakedness not from each other but from the cruel cold world that had never understood us. I remember touching your supple tender lips, slowly tracing them with my fingertips, they were warm, moist, inviting. Your wet tongue found the tip of one of my fingers, as your lips gently closed around it, suckling it like a newborn babe receiving nourishment from its mother’s breast. I remember the feeling of ecstasy which flooded my body as your tongue tasted my flesh, warming me, traveling throughout my body to stop and vibrate in my loins, my scrotum tightened and silently my soul screaming out to be nourished by your eternal touch. As I nuzzled and slowly tongue fucked your ear, I heard a soft guttural moan escape your lips as I squeezed one of your warm breasts and caressed its swollen nipple.

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       I felt your thighs clamp together around my hand which had taken up permanent residence between your buttocks, still rubbing your wet mound through your jeans. I could feel the heat of you as your thighs held my hand trapped, not wanting it to leave. Yet I remember that when I whispered in your ear that I wanted you, that I wanted to make love to you, to fill you with my manhood and quench the throbbing desire pulsating between your legs with my warm soothing seed, a salve which I thought would heal your wounds, you suddenly stiffened to my touch, stood still as stone, the spell you were under broken, the coldness had returned to your eyes. When you spoke, you were distant, as if we were strangers. As your thighs parted, you reached behind your back, and pulled my hand away and as I stepped back my hand fell from beneath your blouse into the cold air that now surrounded us. I remember that you told me I must go, that I must leave, I couldn’t stay, that you needed to be alone. Confused, my libido racing, I could feel the slippery head of my still erect cock now slippery with my own clear fluid rub against my underwear, aching, defeated, knowing deep down inside that tonight or maybe never my soul would not find relief that only you could give me. ……………………. to be continued End of Part I.
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