Monday, 17 September 2007

Once and once only

Lying safe in Ruf's arms, the sadness of the week's events starts to ease away. At first, I couldn't look at him, couldn't let him hold me for fear I would crumble completely. But, finally, when I'd avoided him for long enough, sidestepped and obfuscated with jobs that needed to be done, he determinedly took me in his arms and held me still. Lay down with me on our bed and made me safe, gave me a secure environment in which to cry if I needed it.

And so we talked and talked. For once I was able to tell him of the anger, the pain and the hurt, admittedly only with my back to him and secure inside his embrace with the warmth of his body to reassure me. Sometimes it did not go well and frustration and anguish made me do things that I should have threatened to do long ago to see the full extent of his own unacknowledged emotional commitment to me. I will never forget the look on his face as I started to get dressed with a view to going home. I heard the fear and sadness in his voice when he pleaded with me to stay and I began to understand the magnitude of his feelings for me, empathise with the reasons why he feels the way he does with regard to our future. Until, finally, I started to relax under the fervour of his kisses.

We both know that I am not allowed to have sex, penetrative or oral and, indeed, I have no desire for him to touch me there yet. I still feel dirty and squalid from the terrible thing that I have done with its unpleasant physical manifestations and repercussions. But that doesn't mean that his kisses don't make me feel as sexy as they always do. It certainly doesn't mean that I don't want his lips on mine, his fingers caressing my skin and, better still, my nipples. My breasts are still those of a pregnant woman. The hormones have not diminished sufficiently for the additional fullness to have disappeared and he takes advantage of the extra cupsize within his palm. They are firm and bouncy and not at all painful as in previous pregnancies. But they are extremely sensitive to his touch in a very positive way. He ravished them continuously the last time I visited and discovered new ways to excite me that I hadn't ever felt before. Squeezing the nipples and lightly pinching them in a rapid burst, he is amazed at the effect it has on me. I can feel my excitement mounting, the incredible exploding sensations in my head as the nerves in my brain register the exquisite pain being experienced by the nipples. And all the time kissing me, our tongues meeting and entwining and searching each other's mouths.

At which point he pulls away and focuses on the movement of his fingers at my breasts as he starts to whisper. How much he cares about me. How much he wants me. The extent of his excitement about the next time I visit when he will be able to fuck me again. But then he throws in a twist. In 11 days he will make me come just by teasing my nipples and he will only penetrate me once in the whole weekend.

Whispering and whispering: the glory of my breasts, his desire, his need, his plans. Once and once only. How he will take me to the pinnacle of excitement just by pinching my nipples. How much he loves me to come for him. That he adores the definition of the muscles in my back and shoulders, arms and legs. How beautiful I am. The soft rush of his voice in my ear, rippling over me, exciting me beyond my ability to contain it. The rough touch of his fingers on my nipples gripping and pinching, releasing the pressure for a moment and then reapplying, arousing me more than I could ever have believed possible. Forgetting everything that has happened; all that has been said, all that has been done is washed away by the power of his words and the magic of his caresses until I can think of nothing but the pressure of his fingers and the blood pounding in my ears as I pant with sheer unadulterated desire for him. Moving closer and closer to a point of no return. Unable to rationalise or analyse, only lust. Wanton and desperate, I cling to him, panting and helpless, and pray for the passage of time so he can fulfil my need. My fists gripping the hairs on his chest as I try to stay with him in the here and now, attempt to maintain the last vestiges of control... because I am afraid of what will happen if I surrender myself totally and come for him in my fragile physical condition.

So I pull away and go down on him instead. Give myself a little breathing space but his fingers follow and regain their mastery as I take him, hot and hard in my mouth. Licking and sucking and teasing, the way he loves it. Taking him higher and higher until he spurts into my waiting mouth; holding it there as the aftershocks run through him and then sitting up to let it dribble over my glorious breasts like a waterfall. It would just have appeared so much sexier if only I had got the angle right and not managed to miss my tits completely, leaving the overwhelming impression that I had just gobbed the lot onto the bedsheets... at which we both collapsed into hysterical laughter.

But now, every time I close my eyes, I can see his face, hear his words and rekindle the fabulous sensation of his touch. My nipples harden and elongate at the thought of his fingers. He has verbally chastised me for not being able to recall his words or his intentions verbatim but I remember the way he made me feel, the way he made me lose control.

I long for him and the time passes so slowly that I have to keep checking the clock to see if it is still working.

Obviously I am a little afraid of that first time but I know that he will be gentle. He will wrap me up in his love and, when he thinks I am ready, he will make me whole again... once and once only.

My libido is returning. I have my mojo back and I know he can still turn me on big time.

Our sex can still go awry in the most amusing ways and we can still laugh about it.

There are four days to go and my excitement is mounting.

The Management is pleased to announce that:

Normal service on this sexblog is about to be resumed.


Anonymous Boxer said...

Woo-hoo! Cake and Sex are bacckkk. Good thing, beause I've had to "go elsewhere" and it just wasn't the same.


Pixie said...

Fantastic cake, soooo glad that you are ready to rock n roll.
Even though your thoughts will still be elsewhere some of the time.
And like boxer said going elsewhere just isn't the same!

Wild Cat said...

I remember this time so well, although I gave in and ignored the time frame.

Even the badest of events can be overcome if the both of you want it enough.


BenefitScroungingScum said...

Glad you're starting to feel better x

n said...

Happy days cake. So glad they are back for you. Nx

RAFFI said...

he can turn you on bigtime? you can turn me on bigtime!

Marcelle Manhattan said...

Oooooh, this was yummy! And romantic, too, although I'm not usually prone to such emotions. A testament to good writing! Can't wait to read what comes next. :)

Isabella Snow said...

Yay! And a lovely blog overdo, too! Congrats on all counts!

Juno said...

Ooo! Normal service!

I'm beside myself with excitement. (Really!)

I'm so glad you're feeling better, Cake.

Much love,
Juno x

Jackie Adshead said...

I'm glad you're feeling better and want to party again!

Angela-la-la said...

That's my girl xx

Fat Controller said...

So glad you're back on track again. It surely helps that you were able to write so openly and frankly about your feelings. This is such a lovely post

Ms Robinson said...

You wrote this beautifully Cake.