HIM . . .
The warmth of her touch, the shadow of her smile, and the bounce in her stride made her my daily feast throughout history where we’d invade each other’s worlds and universe in this life and any other lives. I have loved her throughout time and I’m convinced she is all of me, infinitely, all the time; it’s a neverending journey with her. She’s my life, my lover, and my wife in all of my lives. Night after night, I yearned for a drop of her time and a piece of her mind, and just like that I was in ecstasy. Tender, tempting, touching, made for tantalizing, thunderous taunts that led to sultry, sweltering, scintillating sex. Making love to Tia every night, without inhibition, is what has fed this monster over decades, across states, even after other lovers dissipate. To let her get away was crazy. My picture in life would not be the same if she were absent from my world.
“The other side of midnight is where we go into a dangerous place. That place where neither of us needs to be, yet we belong here,” I tell her as she reaches for her drink.
My hand covers hers, and I see her leg start to tremble. She taught me how to love. What I’ve given in return is the best love she’s ever had. The kind of love that has her pussy twitching for days; the kind of loving she wants over and over, the kind of love only I can provide. The kind of love that has her sugar walls trained to my command.
“You really wear the hell out of that shirt,” she tells me. She smiles, trying to ease the tension.
“I thought you would like it.”
“I love it, Tre’.”
“I love you, Tia.”
“I need to get home, Tre’.”
“I need you.”
“Don’t do this.”
“Why did you come, Tia?”
“B . . . b . . . because . . .”
“Because you need me, just as much as I need you.” Taking her hand in mine, I tell her, “I need you so bad. Please don’t leave me.”
“You have a wife.”
“You have a husband.”
“I’m gonna go,” she says as she gets up to leave.
“Not yet. Please.”
“What do you want from me?”
“You, Tia. I want you; all of you. I don’t want to share. I’m getting too old to play this twenty-plus-year-old game. I need you. I want you. Now.”
“I need to use the ladies’ room.”
The waitress walks toward us. Her presence is welcomed as it will give us a much-needed time out.
“Another drink?”
“Yes,” I reply. “We’ll have another round.”
With the grace of a ballerina, Tia stands and her statuesque, five-foot-eleven-inch frame glides graciously across the room. Instinct gets the better of me and I follow, walking in beat to her rhythm.
The sight of Tia’s ass swaying confidently and magically from side to side, up and down, as her hips coincide with perfection, makes the tip of my manhood as solid as a rock. She is wearing the hell, shit, and damn out of that black dress. She is a sin and a shame in human form. As she takes the first step of a small flight of stairs to the ladies’ room, I trace the curvature of her thick thighs with my eyes; I imagine them wrapped securely and seductively around my waist and with each blow, my manhood delves deeper into her righteousness, further into her faithfulness, and takes my breath away. Her pretty, pulsating pussy would give way to every one of my bold, blunt blows.
She looks back at me, as the hair around her sweet face dances a beautiful jig down her jaw. Knowing that look has the power to drop me to my knees, she does it again and smirks the second time around. She is carrying that extra forty pounds like it’s a million damn dollars. Every time she bounces, I feel like I may bust.
We reach the ladies’ room. Her hand reaches for the doorknob, but I open the door instead.
Looking back at me, she asks, “Does this make any sense to you, Tre’?”
“Doesn’t have to make sense, it’s who we are. I don’t want to wake up again and know that you could be gone forever. Been there, done that; don’t want to do it again.”