Ooh! Comments!

I got a wonderful comment on One Last Time Again from Erotica writer Jaye Raymee, who has an imagination far more wicked than mine and a penchant for finding erotica in the most interesting places:

"I loved the intensity, esp the inner turmoil and passion! All in addition to the hot, slippery, pulse-raising naughty bits!"

*Beams*

You should go check her out. Especially her most recent offering, lesbian encounter Seeking, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

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One Last Time Again, Final Part

Follows on from Part 4.

I fumble with your cock, try and pull you into me. You are a little shorter than me, but we're standing up and the angle is still all wrong. I move into the corner of the shower cubicle, stand up on my tiptoes on the ledge around the bottom, and with a thrust you are in me, and I moan loudly, tears squeezing from my eyes because nothing I've ever experienced comes close to being as amazing as the feel of you inside me, the weight of my body bringing you further into me with every upward thrust from your hips. Your mouth is on my breast, your tongue flicking across my nipple, sucking the moisture from my skin, your hand cupping my breast from underneath, squeezing and feeling and experiencing as you send shivers of pleasure shooting through my body. Standing on my tiptoes has all the muscles in my legs screaming but the adrenalin coursing through me masks the pain and all I can think about it bringing you, pulling that low, primal moan from your mouth as you can no longer hold onto your orgasm and you expel yourself inside me with violent shudders.

We have settled into a rhythm, and with each upward stroke you push yourself further inside me, until I feel that if you tried to fill me any more I would explode. I can feel you growing and I know that you cannot be far away, and a stab of pain runs through my chest as I realise that when you come that will be it, there will be no more us again.

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One Last Time Again, Part 4

Follows on from Part 3.

I pull into the space by your house, and we get out and go into your building, your small but perfect ground floor flat. We sit in your kitchen and I sip water. We make small talk. I'm getting cold and slowly realise I'm still wearing my sweaty running gear.

“Can I use your shower?” I ask. You find me a towel and leave me in the bathroom. I turn on the shower, peel off my clothes and step in, the hot water a stark contrast to my apparently freezing body. The pounding jet is heaven against my sore limbs. I wonder again why I'm here.

The shower opens and you're standing there, looking at me. I know that I'm naked but I don't feel embarrassed. Even after all the time we've been apart, being with you is still natural, like breathing. Water is spilling onto the floor and I wonder what you want. Quietly, you slip your clothes off and step into the shower with me, pulling the door closed. It's not a small cubicle, but it's still cramped with both of us here. I put my arms around you, pull you in towards me. The shower is still on and our skin clings together as the water coats our naked bodies. You're warm and soft against me, your arms strong around me. I let my hands slip down towards your bottom and caress the curve of your buttocks. God, how had I forgotten about the perfection of your body? You are semi-erect, a weight against my crotch but not hard yet. I imagine you swelling against me, the firm length of your shaft in my hand, how you would feel slipping inside me, how good it would feel to have my aching void finally filled, up and up until I want to explode...

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One Last Time Again, Part 3

You release me so that we can open the car door. I look at you, unsure what to do now. You cover my head with your hand and duck me backwards into the car. I am distracted by not falling over and my brain realises what is going on, what we might be about to do. For the first time, I wonder what will happen when this is over, if you will be gone again and I will be left with the sorrow that has consumed me since you went, how I will cope if this is the last time again. I break into a sob and you look at me with concern. I scrunch up into a ball against the far door and you climb into the car and shut the door behind you. Sound from the outside world is shut out; no more breeze stirring the trees, no more noise from the cars on the road outside the car park. The sudden stillness is jarring. I am aware of my clothes, rustling as I breathe in and out, the squeak of the seats beneath us as we sit awkwardly, looking at each other. You shuffle towards me and I look away, tears squeezing from between slitted eyes, too afraid to see that you are here when soon you will be gone again. You touch my face gently but I daren't move.

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One Last Time Again, Part 2

You say nothing, just take my hands in yours as you look at me. I am too exhausted to say anything. I'm vaguely aware I must look a mess, windswept hair and tear stained face. I cannot feel enough to care. Sorrow envelops me as I gaze at you, and I break down into tears once again. You gather me up into your arms and hold me, rubbing my back in firm circles even though I am still soggy from my run. I cry into your shoulders until my tears run dry and then I sob for a while, too tired to think, not even sure why I am crying. You pull away and I want to cry again because I cannot bear the thought of losing you again, of empty arms and my empty chest. You take my face in your hands and thumb the remainder of my tears away from my eyes. I feel fragile in your presence, as if I am a cub and you are a lion. I am a little afraid.

You pull my face towards you and suddenly you are kissing me, your mouth urgent as it meets mine, so much left unsaid now expressed without words. I am unsure how to respond, except that I don't want you to stop. My body is numb, my mind overwhelmed.

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One Last Time Again, Part 1

One foot in front of the other. Thump. Thump. The road stretches out before me, on and on into the distance, but it may as well not be there. I am not looking at the road. I am concentrating on the rhythm of my feet, the movement of my legs, my heart pounding so hard I can taste it in my mouth. My mouth is dry, my head a little dizzy, but nothing matters except channelling the anger and the frustration into laying each step on the road, pummelling the ground for some unknown sin which must be punished by feet which need to be as far away from here as possible.

It's over. You said that it's over. It's been over for a few months, and I know the reasons why it needed to be over, but I still don't want to let you go.

I don't know why I run here. Every road leads to you. Every path that I take crosses yours. I cannot escape you. In about two minutes, I will reach the road where you live. About five minutes after that I will reach the road which curves around the place where you work. You always seemed to be in one place or the other. I am no longer aware of what you do in these places; what you do in your spare time, the women that you bring home – if any – or how many hours above and beyond your job description you are working. I will dwell on these things, run past the place where you are, and then I will carry on running until there is no more breath in my body, until my fingers and toes grow numb and cease to a part of me, until my heart pounds itself into oblivion and someone comes to take my lifeless body away. I must run until either you or I no longer exist. It is the only way left to me.

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