I would have thought I'd be satisfied as fuck, completely ravished, enraptured, and, yes, yes, I was. I had been at the sensual party all night and, I'm hesitant to confess, a lovely laddie with whom I had made the most glorious love gave me a ride to the bus stop. I waited there at the bus stop in the dark sitting on the concrete, feeling the hardness push up against my still swollen crotch which was still pulsing with memories. I felt completely loose in my body, flowing in all directions, and I started feeling the gushing from inside my yoni, the fluids pushing their way strongly through their tunnel. Because I decided I was right. It seemed that the gorgeous young man waiting at the bus stop as well, was really there to check me out.
He kept looking over at me as he paced the sidewalk, sauntering. He was wearing jeans, and his body was taut inside his tight, short sleeved shirt. He was boyish, maybe in his early twenties, with sexy blond hair that shot up, and curved over his eye sometimes, as he swiveled his head softly to give me another look. His glances sent movements of intensity through my body. It started moving slightly on its own, my pelvis leading and my torso undulating, but probably no one knew. I let the movements refine themselves, being a somewhat civilized woman, and led them into subtlety. I could feel the lines of light that were undulating up my body get more focused, containing more energy, and I could feel them gather strength at my yoni, and become like a breath of fire - in, and out - that I just followed upwards. I closed my eyes, let my head fall backwards a little, and let it move through me, up out my head into my larger spirit's joy. I sat there a moment, with my eyes closed, breathing, being, and when I opened them, there he was. The fucking sexy-as-all get out blond fellow. Urrr....
Yeah. The way he narrowed his eyes and pushed out his lips, looking at me sideways, it seemed as if he could gather and send his sly strength to me through a look. And then, as I opened my eyes from bliss, it was revealed that he was standing right in front of me. I felt something had gone dangerously right.
I'll spare you our conversations, as we got to know each other, as deeply as we could in a few hours, as we walked around the neighborhood, spent time in the playground, met up with some of his friends. We were different. There was no getting around that. I knew nothing would come of it, and nothing should. Except that night. And that night, he was insistent. Gorgeous, a stranger, and very persuasive. When we kissed, our lips were both so moist, so full, and it felt heavenly to feel them together. It made us tremble to hold back the urgency to be able to savor the softness of the kisses, before letting ourselves plunge, wanting each other's cavernous recesses of the self.
And the thing is he was the preacher's son. In that small town, he had certainly rebelled. He claimed he got into a little trouble now and then. It felt good against my hands to hold onto his waist, so slender, his stomach so flat, and hard. His hips, rounded, smooth. Along the sides of his chest, feeling his ribs, and the muscles, surprising me with their force, and tone. As I moved my hands along his biceps, I felt a surge of excitement that was exquisite. And he asked if I would make love with him behind his father's church.
The walk toward the church, our hands in each others' pockets, presenting ourselves as casually as we could, but our breath became harder, faster, and our voices quieter. We hadn't seen anyone outside for a long time. The blocks were getting lined with stone walls, and houses were getting farther in between. We were feeling more private, and we let our bodies pull toward each other, pulling on the hip bones, little tugs that drove us wild. The church was on our right, behind a very high fence. There was no way into the area without climbing over it. The chain link was small for my shoes, and I could barely leap up from link to link. We were determined. Dark bushes lined the sides of the fence, and there was no one to see us. We made it to the top of the fence, and flew to the ground.
There were chicken coops to one side of the church parking lot. I hadn't expected that. And, behind the church, which was moderately large, and decently white, was a corner that was cut out of the structure, hidden from view. We took off our jackets and put them down beneath him, in that little niche, so perfect, so convenient, for those who see the beauty of the spirit outside the church confines, outside the boundaries of organized patterns of society. And into pleasure, and affection, adoration of each other as spirit merged with all spirit.
I rode him with fervor, going into rhythms that teased, teased, and accomplished, held above, vibrated inside, oceanic circles, that timelessness gave into a burst of time, and he starting shaking. I could feel his cock bulging inside me so hugely, and feel him shaking like a hurricane, and I imagined how it felt to him. The church roof was angled down towards us, coming close to us. The chickens clucked. He grabbed my pelvis and pulled me toward him as he started pumping at incredible speed, and I felt my yoni explode out into my body, my heart, my aura, my my. I shrieked, panted, exclaimed, and he was doing the same, grabbing me harder as he pushed his cock into me, against the top of the walls. Our undulations matched, sometimes slam dancing against each other, sometimes, moving across each other, always ecstatic, shivering, and light pouring into the circulation of ourselves, and, once again, as he and I. Two bodies again. Two selves. Behind his father's church.
Cluck, cluck.
Originally published September 2006 - "Divine"