I have said it, my friends, at the end of the previous chapter. Here we talk about Love and Pleasure.
Love, which allows pleasure; which "naturally" brings pleasure with it.
Pleasure, that can exist without love, yes, but that only love, the real one, is able to really make you appreciate it, that only true love can make unique.
And believe me, here, in this chapter, you - just like our two beloved Trip and T'Pol - can really understand how true it is what I say.
My ancestor, he too, had understood very well, and, for this reason, wherever and in whatever way he was able to gather the information and details, even minute, that you can read here, he has not omitted a single one, not even the least part of each of them.
Don't you believe it, my friends?
Love, which allows pleasure; which "naturally" brings pleasure with it.
Pleasure, that can exist without love, yes, but that only love, the real one, is able to really make you appreciate it, that only true love can make unique.
And believe me, here, in this chapter, you - just like our two beloved Trip and T'Pol - can really understand how true it is what I say.
My ancestor, he too, had understood very well, and, for this reason, wherever and in whatever way he was able to gather the information and details, even minute, that you can read here, he has not omitted a single one, not even the least part of each of them.
Don't you believe it, my friends?
Okay. So then read here
Taste every single dish of this meal, my friends.
However, I beg you. Remember to savour each dish with the elating dressing of love.
Chapter Eleven
Love
And Pleasure
Love
And Pleasure
“Oooohhhh yes, Trip! Yes!”
I no longer pay attention to holding back my words of desire and of passion. Of pleasure.
Of implicit love.
“Yes yes yes! Thus! Thus! MORE! Don’t cease, Trip! DON’T CEASE!”
And I no longer can… I NO LONGER WANT TO… to deny me… the… the joy to shout aloud the pleasure and the delight I feel!
And to deny him the joy to hear from me, clearly and plainly, all the pleasure and all the delight he gives me!
And to ask of him what I need!
“Go deeper inside, Trip! Go faster! Faster, Trip!”
I call him with the name he loves to be called and it is magnificent the sense of intimacy that this makes me feel, while I’m nude, held and delighted by him, by my K’diwa, in this way.
My breath is uneven, nearly erratic, at the sensations I feel.
I’m still kneeling on my bed, naked, totally at his fingertips.
His, completely and wholly his.
My eyes closed, my head reclined backward, my thighs spread, my groin pushed against his hand, to allow it to work and to rummage – free and unimpeded - inside my vagina and my vulva, utterly broadened for its wanton search.
And I’m screaming loud and disjointedly my harrowing pleasure!
I’m incapable of keeping quiet!
I don’t want to keep quiet!
I don’t want to be a collected, stiff, logical Vulcan female, tonight!
I only want to be a woman in love!
I bask stunned and rapt in the bedlam of incoherent exclamations which come out directly from my blissful katra through my mouth, open to holler my blind enjoyment, to whoop to him my immense delight to be so…
Nude for him, loved by him! HIS!
“Nude and yours!...Oh yes yes yes! Thus!”
It’s a delirium!
“More inside!... Wholly nude!... Wholly yours!”
An uncontrollable delirium of joy and of pleasure!
“I’m yours!… Oh more, Trip, more!... I’m yours!... Thus yet!... More!...”
An uncontrolled delirium!
“I’m nude, nude, nude!... For you!... For you!... And I’m yours!... I belong to you!!”
A delirium that I cannot…
“Oh yes yes yes!... Thus!... THUS!... Don’t cease!... Go on, Trip! GO ON!”
…that I don’t want to control!
“GO ON… WITH… YOUR… HAND… INSIDE ME!”
And with more reason at the dire thought that, but for him, I wouldn’t have all that!
I’m spasming around the fingers of his left hand, that now holds me and keeps me by my sex in place with his right.
Two fingers of his are jabbed deeply inside my vagina and torment it delightfully, while the thumb rubs forcefully and restlessly my clitoris that pulsates with pleasure under its torturous caresses.
I have remained without breath in feeling this hand take possession of my sex, revelling in it as its absolute owner, penetrating deeply inside me, while his other hand was abandoning my vagina and was going up sensually along my skin, from my ass to my back, arousing shudders of pure lust in my body.
Imprisoned between his right arm, that encircles me from behind and holds me firmly, and his left hand, that domineers inside my sex, I remain now with both my hands upon his left, to keep it firmly inside me and my hips jounce under the waves of pleasure which assault me incessantly by the job that his fingers are doing to me.
I snivel, my voice is overpowered by hiccups.
Never have I felt so, never I could have believed it was possible to experience such terrific pleasure.
And such a terrific covetousness.
(*Now I die! I die! Really! *)
And, among the shivers and the hiccups and the sighs, I rave with lust and desire, ensnared between the craving that all this never ends and the thirst for my release.
“More! No!… Ahh!… Enough, now, please, Trip!…Aaahhh!… No! NO! MORE!… Enough! Stop!… MORE!… STOP!”
And I implore him!
“Make me come, make me come!”
I entreat him, with words that never could I have thought I would pronounce.
“Have pity, Trip! Have pity!”
My head shakes from side to side.
“Pity on me!!”
BUT HE DOESN’T!
My head dashes forward, my eyes snap wide, my mouth opens with a silent shout, my hands grasp frantically for his hand which continues to torment mercilessly my sex.
His mouth is on my left breast!
It engulfs my breast.
His lips suck my nipple!
His tongue licks it!
His teeth nibble it!
I gasp, shake, pant, moan, thrill!
I feel like I'm stepping into a live plasma conduit!
Assaulted and tortured by his fingers and his mouth!
At his mercy!
In his power!
Nude and his!
I swivel my pelvis! I rub my vulva around his hand! I bring my quaking arms to his head and I encircle it, holding it tightly to my bosom, my breast palpitating in his mouth! I lower my face to his ear! I murmur writhingly into it!
“I’m dying, Trip! You’re making me die!!”
No reticence! No feigning!
I close my eyes in luxuriation and lay my lips on his head, laying on it a soft and desirous kiss!
"Salvage me!"
My sex submerges his hand with the juices of my desire!
"Give me life!"
I no longer pay attention to holding back my words of desire and of passion. Of pleasure.
Of implicit love.
“Yes yes yes! Thus! Thus! MORE! Don’t cease, Trip! DON’T CEASE!”
And I no longer can… I NO LONGER WANT TO… to deny me… the… the joy to shout aloud the pleasure and the delight I feel!
And to deny him the joy to hear from me, clearly and plainly, all the pleasure and all the delight he gives me!
And to ask of him what I need!
“Go deeper inside, Trip! Go faster! Faster, Trip!”
I call him with the name he loves to be called and it is magnificent the sense of intimacy that this makes me feel, while I’m nude, held and delighted by him, by my K’diwa, in this way.
My breath is uneven, nearly erratic, at the sensations I feel.
I’m still kneeling on my bed, naked, totally at his fingertips.
His, completely and wholly his.
My eyes closed, my head reclined backward, my thighs spread, my groin pushed against his hand, to allow it to work and to rummage – free and unimpeded - inside my vagina and my vulva, utterly broadened for its wanton search.
And I’m screaming loud and disjointedly my harrowing pleasure!
I’m incapable of keeping quiet!
I don’t want to keep quiet!
I don’t want to be a collected, stiff, logical Vulcan female, tonight!
I only want to be a woman in love!
I bask stunned and rapt in the bedlam of incoherent exclamations which come out directly from my blissful katra through my mouth, open to holler my blind enjoyment, to whoop to him my immense delight to be so…
Nude for him, loved by him! HIS!
“Nude and yours!...Oh yes yes yes! Thus!”
It’s a delirium!
“More inside!... Wholly nude!... Wholly yours!”
An uncontrollable delirium of joy and of pleasure!
“I’m yours!… Oh more, Trip, more!... I’m yours!... Thus yet!... More!...”
An uncontrolled delirium!
“I’m nude, nude, nude!... For you!... For you!... And I’m yours!... I belong to you!!”
A delirium that I cannot…
“Oh yes yes yes!... Thus!... THUS!... Don’t cease!... Go on, Trip! GO ON!”
…that I don’t want to control!
“GO ON… WITH… YOUR… HAND… INSIDE ME!”
And with more reason at the dire thought that, but for him, I wouldn’t have all that!
I’m spasming around the fingers of his left hand, that now holds me and keeps me by my sex in place with his right.
Two fingers of his are jabbed deeply inside my vagina and torment it delightfully, while the thumb rubs forcefully and restlessly my clitoris that pulsates with pleasure under its torturous caresses.
I have remained without breath in feeling this hand take possession of my sex, revelling in it as its absolute owner, penetrating deeply inside me, while his other hand was abandoning my vagina and was going up sensually along my skin, from my ass to my back, arousing shudders of pure lust in my body.
Imprisoned between his right arm, that encircles me from behind and holds me firmly, and his left hand, that domineers inside my sex, I remain now with both my hands upon his left, to keep it firmly inside me and my hips jounce under the waves of pleasure which assault me incessantly by the job that his fingers are doing to me.
I snivel, my voice is overpowered by hiccups.
Never have I felt so, never I could have believed it was possible to experience such terrific pleasure.
And such a terrific covetousness.
(*Now I die! I die! Really! *)
And, among the shivers and the hiccups and the sighs, I rave with lust and desire, ensnared between the craving that all this never ends and the thirst for my release.
“More! No!… Ahh!… Enough, now, please, Trip!…Aaahhh!… No! NO! MORE!… Enough! Stop!… MORE!… STOP!”
And I implore him!
“Make me come, make me come!”
I entreat him, with words that never could I have thought I would pronounce.
“Have pity, Trip! Have pity!”
My head shakes from side to side.
“Pity on me!!”
BUT HE DOESN’T!
My head dashes forward, my eyes snap wide, my mouth opens with a silent shout, my hands grasp frantically for his hand which continues to torment mercilessly my sex.
His mouth is on my left breast!
It engulfs my breast.
His lips suck my nipple!
His tongue licks it!
His teeth nibble it!
I gasp, shake, pant, moan, thrill!
I feel like I'm stepping into a live plasma conduit!
Assaulted and tortured by his fingers and his mouth!
At his mercy!
In his power!
Nude and his!
I swivel my pelvis! I rub my vulva around his hand! I bring my quaking arms to his head and I encircle it, holding it tightly to my bosom, my breast palpitating in his mouth! I lower my face to his ear! I murmur writhingly into it!
“I’m dying, Trip! You’re making me die!!”
No reticence! No feigning!
I close my eyes in luxuriation and lay my lips on his head, laying on it a soft and desirous kiss!
"Salvage me!"
My sex submerges his hand with the juices of my desire!
"Give me life!"
No need to die to know if there's paradise.
His mouth lets go my breast.
It exists, and it is here.
His head goes up until his face is in front of mine, one inch from mine.
It is in her wondrous face, trepid in the love.
His eyes stare steadily at mine, which gaze his, imploringly and… lovingly.
It is in her gorgeous eyes, coruscant with love.
His eyes look at me with a such sweetness, with such a … love, that I feel my heart breaking into small pieces.
In her long, delicate eyelashes, fluttering in love.
My arms are still holding his head.
In her delicious eyebrows, bending in love.
His left hand resumes and quickens its heartbreaking job in my sex.
In her lush lips, fragrant with love.
His lips lower onto my lips, while I close my eyes and I respire, lost in our love.
In her tuneful voice, abrim with love.
He kisses me, tenderly, amorously, sweetly, while his hand goes on melting me.
In her sericeous skin, flaming under my caresses of love,
dewy with a thousand minuscule pearls of love,
redolent with her perfume of love.
dewy with a thousand minuscule pearls of love,
redolent with her perfume of love.
He pushes me slowly backward and down, on the bed, still kissing me gently, still caressing me intimately, drawing me imperceptibly into the naught of pure bliss.
In her body curvaceous and soft, outstretched and tense in love.
He lays me supine on the bed and on his right arm, and he follows me, lying upon me and beside me…
In her flesh smooth and warm, which quivers under my kisses of love.
… his lips kissing my lips and our tongues now caressing each other inside my mouth…
In her elysian breasts, swelling in her desire of love,
trembling under my strokes of love.
In her paradisaic nipples, hardening at my touch of love.
trembling under my strokes of love.
In her paradisaic nipples, hardening at my touch of love.
…his right hand reaching and grasping my right breast from behind, stroking it, torturing mildly my nipple…
In her hips busty and well-rounded, which wave in the passion of our love.
…his left hand…
In the beauty of her fine arms, which embrace me in love.
… his left hand pleasuring me lustfully. Bringing me to the stars…
In the sweetness of her tiny hands, which hold me tightly in love.
… my thighs wide open to him…
In the delicateness of her small feet, in the delightfulness of her tapering ankles, in the loveliness of her nifty legs, in the firm smoothness of her marbly thighs, wide open to me in our love.
…my depths utterly agape to him, to the only man who can savour it, in the fervidness of our love!
In the hot wondrousness of her depths, forbidden to anyone else but to me, utterly agape to me in the ardour of our love.
I’m sinking…
No. No need to die to savour paradise.
…I’m sinking marvellously in the pleasure, in the delight, in the unfathomable ocean of our love!
Paradise is the taste of her all-out abandon in our love.
And my fall comes as an all-consuming wildfire!
The trustful, almost childlike blitheness with which she gives herself to me, in our love.
I tighten my thighs around his hand!
The richness, the plenitude, the mellowness, the fullness with which she gets lost inside me, in our love.
I pant, I gasp, I spasm and writhe under his hands!
Paradise… is she!
In his mouth!
It is the crystal purity of her soul, which screams to me that I must give her life…
I…die… I DIE! FINALLY! REALLY!... of pleasure and of love…
…at the exact moment she gives life to me!
… WRAPPED IN HIS LOVE!
(*I LOVE YOU, MY LOVE! *)
“Aaaaaahhhhhhh…”
The feeble sound of my moan takes me again to the world.
It’s a moan... of relief and of satisfaction.
I open my eyes slowly, trying to regain a true consciousness of whom I am and of where I am.
And I see him.
He watches me, attentively and lovingly, his torso straightened and supported by his right arm, stretched out to the left side of me.
His left arm…down… between my thighs, still tightened around his hand… which is still sinking into my sex.
His hand is motionless, simply resting inside me. Simply savouring the jerks of my vulva, of my vagina, of my clitoris, in my last spasms of pleasure.
I reciprocate his look, and – with my arms lying on the bed, above my head – I widen slowly my thighs intentionally, purposely, moving lightly my groin, so that he can perfectly taste my throbbing inner flesh…
… so that I can perfectly taste the intimate touch of his hand, of his fingers inside my palpitating sex.
And intentionally, purposely… I slowly lower my eyelids, lifting them right after, while… intentionally and purposely… I whine softly and long again…
“Mmmmmmhhhhhhh…”
… ending my groan… lowly… with his name.
“Trip!”
I revel in the blissful marvel I see shimmering in his eyes, and – Sweetly happy! HAPPY! HAPPY! – taking my right hand upon his hand which is enjoying the depths of my body, I repeat his name.
Tenderly and fondly.
Amorously.
“Trip!”
And again.
“Trip!”
And again.
“Trip!”
How it is beautiful to call him so!
How it is beautiful to utter his name, knowing that he knows what it means for me – and for him – that I call him… so.
And how it is beautiful to feel the happiness, the astounded delight that radiates from him… that enmeshes me!
And… how it is beautiful to stay so… quiet and open to him, relishing the touch of his hand inside me, savouring the appeasement of my need and of my wish… and foretasting… under his inmost fingering… what I yet expect… my desire provisionally appeased, but already regaining its force little by little, by the force of this gorgeous intimacy.
He watches me, observes me, studies me.
His look caresses my features, lingers on my hand that is proclaiming his possession of me keeping his hand steadily where it stays.
Spellbound, I see his eyes drink my curves… dreamily, stroke my breasts… softly, cherish my face… adoringly.
His look warms me, makes me feel a new sensation, a new feeling. Something that I never sensed before now.
And this sensation is nice.
I feel… lovely.
I know my appearance is agreeable, it would be illogical to deny the fact that many males during my life looked at me with appreciation, often with obvious desire.
But never I did care.
Until now.
Until him.
He has been capable of making me feel... beautiful. And wantable. Loveable.
Pretty.
Shapely.
And it's beautiful to feel... beautiful.
To him!
(*To my K’diwa! *)
It's inestimable to be enjoyed by him!
And suddenly an unrestrainable need seizes me.
A… feminine need.
I bring my other hand to caress his cheek. Fondly and gently.
I stare... expectantly... at his eyes, while I talk... almost fearful. In a small voice.
“Do you… do you enjoy me, Trip?”
The feeble sound of my moan takes me again to the world.
It’s a moan... of relief and of satisfaction.
I open my eyes slowly, trying to regain a true consciousness of whom I am and of where I am.
And I see him.
He watches me, attentively and lovingly, his torso straightened and supported by his right arm, stretched out to the left side of me.
His left arm…down… between my thighs, still tightened around his hand… which is still sinking into my sex.
His hand is motionless, simply resting inside me. Simply savouring the jerks of my vulva, of my vagina, of my clitoris, in my last spasms of pleasure.
I reciprocate his look, and – with my arms lying on the bed, above my head – I widen slowly my thighs intentionally, purposely, moving lightly my groin, so that he can perfectly taste my throbbing inner flesh…
… so that I can perfectly taste the intimate touch of his hand, of his fingers inside my palpitating sex.
And intentionally, purposely… I slowly lower my eyelids, lifting them right after, while… intentionally and purposely… I whine softly and long again…
“Mmmmmmhhhhhhh…”
… ending my groan… lowly… with his name.
“Trip!”
I revel in the blissful marvel I see shimmering in his eyes, and – Sweetly happy! HAPPY! HAPPY! – taking my right hand upon his hand which is enjoying the depths of my body, I repeat his name.
Tenderly and fondly.
Amorously.
“Trip!”
And again.
“Trip!”
And again.
“Trip!”
How it is beautiful to call him so!
How it is beautiful to utter his name, knowing that he knows what it means for me – and for him – that I call him… so.
And how it is beautiful to feel the happiness, the astounded delight that radiates from him… that enmeshes me!
And… how it is beautiful to stay so… quiet and open to him, relishing the touch of his hand inside me, savouring the appeasement of my need and of my wish… and foretasting… under his inmost fingering… what I yet expect… my desire provisionally appeased, but already regaining its force little by little, by the force of this gorgeous intimacy.
He watches me, observes me, studies me.
His look caresses my features, lingers on my hand that is proclaiming his possession of me keeping his hand steadily where it stays.
Spellbound, I see his eyes drink my curves… dreamily, stroke my breasts… softly, cherish my face… adoringly.
His look warms me, makes me feel a new sensation, a new feeling. Something that I never sensed before now.
And this sensation is nice.
I feel… lovely.
I know my appearance is agreeable, it would be illogical to deny the fact that many males during my life looked at me with appreciation, often with obvious desire.
But never I did care.
Until now.
Until him.
He has been capable of making me feel... beautiful. And wantable. Loveable.
Pretty.
Shapely.
And it's beautiful to feel... beautiful.
To him!
(*To my K’diwa! *)
It's inestimable to be enjoyed by him!
And suddenly an unrestrainable need seizes me.
A… feminine need.
I bring my other hand to caress his cheek. Fondly and gently.
I stare... expectantly... at his eyes, while I talk... almost fearful. In a small voice.
“Do you… do you enjoy me, Trip?”
But how is it possible that it can coexist in the same person, in this wonderful creature, such a smart, logical, cold mind and such a virginal, unsoiled, enchanting naturalness? Such an entrapping naivety? Such a vanquishing candour?
I stare in wonder at the magnificent features of this dream woman, whose graces a benign fortune wanted to concede me.
I look at the intimate and reliant way she is giving herself into my hands. A way that no other woman could ever remotely actualize.
I repeat astounded in my mind the sweet and melting question she put to me.
(*“Do you… do you enjoy me, Trip?” *)
How is she able to ask me such a thing? Could she ever believe otherwise? Could she think to not be beautiful to my eyes? Or simply to not be... merely beautiful?
And suddenly I understand, and an uncontainable feeling made with enjoyment and joyous surprise fills my whole being.
But however could a Vulcan female phrase such a silly... illogical question? Unless...
Unless…
(*“YES TRIP! YES MY… MY…” *)
YES MY LOVE!
This would have been the end of her previous exclamation, if she were finishing it, because only a woman in love can ask her lover what she asked me!
And suddenly again, I realize she is calling me… Trip! With spontaneity and with artlessness! It's all night that she is calling me thus. It is all night that I'm revelling in the sweetness of my name on her lips, without noticing such a splendid thing, lost in the passion of our love!
And this night the sound of my name on her mouth resonates differently from the way she pronounced it our first night. There's another intimacy, another meaning.
This time it is her manner, her way of telling me what surely she was about to do in the magic of that night, just before the tactical alert, and that probably she never will be capable of saying to me plainly and simply.
But she is telling me!
I love you, Trip!
She’s shouting it to me, with her body and her soul, with her passion and her desire, with her voice and her gestures.
With her astounding question.
Still holding her so intimately, still relishing blissfully the heat of her hand which keeps mine inside her, her other hand still caressing my cheek mildly, I lower myself until my face is virtually upon hers, until our breath is blended with one another.
I lock my eyes with hers, which gaze into mine with anxious expectancy, and I watch bemused and thoughtful the bottomless ocean of unknown wonderments which are hidden in them.
Ardent and hot blood under her keen cleverness, under her apparent coldness; the hottest passion and the strongest emotions under her ability to control herself so perfectly; and innocence. An amazing, melting purity that transpires arrantly through her whole behaviour, mingled with her logical, Vulcan essence.
A dumbfounding and unique mixture, and this mixture… is for me.
To me she revealed all that. This universe of delights is for me!
Because she’s in love with me!
I see this love, in her eyes. No need to hear words from her.
It is endless, as endless as her need of love.
And she wants me to satisfy her need.
She wants to feel herself… beautiful, like she is.
She wants to hear from her man – FROM ME! – the words that a man in love always murmurs to the woman he loves.
She wants me to tell her how beautiful she is for me.
For her lover!
I look at her with all the love I feel for her, and talk lowly, brushing her lips with my lips.
But… I have fear!
I stare in wonder at the magnificent features of this dream woman, whose graces a benign fortune wanted to concede me.
I look at the intimate and reliant way she is giving herself into my hands. A way that no other woman could ever remotely actualize.
I repeat astounded in my mind the sweet and melting question she put to me.
(*“Do you… do you enjoy me, Trip?” *)
How is she able to ask me such a thing? Could she ever believe otherwise? Could she think to not be beautiful to my eyes? Or simply to not be... merely beautiful?
And suddenly I understand, and an uncontainable feeling made with enjoyment and joyous surprise fills my whole being.
But however could a Vulcan female phrase such a silly... illogical question? Unless...
Unless…
(*“YES TRIP! YES MY… MY…” *)
YES MY LOVE!
This would have been the end of her previous exclamation, if she were finishing it, because only a woman in love can ask her lover what she asked me!
And suddenly again, I realize she is calling me… Trip! With spontaneity and with artlessness! It's all night that she is calling me thus. It is all night that I'm revelling in the sweetness of my name on her lips, without noticing such a splendid thing, lost in the passion of our love!
And this night the sound of my name on her mouth resonates differently from the way she pronounced it our first night. There's another intimacy, another meaning.
This time it is her manner, her way of telling me what surely she was about to do in the magic of that night, just before the tactical alert, and that probably she never will be capable of saying to me plainly and simply.
But she is telling me!
I love you, Trip!
She’s shouting it to me, with her body and her soul, with her passion and her desire, with her voice and her gestures.
With her astounding question.
Still holding her so intimately, still relishing blissfully the heat of her hand which keeps mine inside her, her other hand still caressing my cheek mildly, I lower myself until my face is virtually upon hers, until our breath is blended with one another.
I lock my eyes with hers, which gaze into mine with anxious expectancy, and I watch bemused and thoughtful the bottomless ocean of unknown wonderments which are hidden in them.
Ardent and hot blood under her keen cleverness, under her apparent coldness; the hottest passion and the strongest emotions under her ability to control herself so perfectly; and innocence. An amazing, melting purity that transpires arrantly through her whole behaviour, mingled with her logical, Vulcan essence.
A dumbfounding and unique mixture, and this mixture… is for me.
To me she revealed all that. This universe of delights is for me!
Because she’s in love with me!
I see this love, in her eyes. No need to hear words from her.
It is endless, as endless as her need of love.
And she wants me to satisfy her need.
She wants to feel herself… beautiful, like she is.
She wants to hear from her man – FROM ME! – the words that a man in love always murmurs to the woman he loves.
She wants me to tell her how beautiful she is for me.
For her lover!
I look at her with all the love I feel for her, and talk lowly, brushing her lips with my lips.
But… I have fear!
“I enjoy you very much, Commander!”
He talks so to me, caressing my lips with his lips, using his usual teasing mood.
Why?
Why does he treat me so badly, just when I need his ... his love?
But.. I feel a sort of withheld awe in his tone, and I understand that he really has fear, because...
Shutting my eyes, I think of my deportment of the morning, after our first, marvellous night. I have denied arrogantly any feeling from me for him, after that I gave myself so totally to him.
Guilt and regret run through me.
How... how much have I made him suffer?
I bring my hand to his nape, drawing his head down, and I kiss him with… with love… and with passion, while my other hand pushes lustily against his hand which is holding me by my sex.
He must understand!
I.. MUST… make him understanding!
I detach my mouth from his and open my eyes, looking at him with trepidation.
AGAIN! Trepidation is my constant companion, tonight!
(*You must understand, Ashayam! You must! It is… it is important for me your response! *)
You must understand how much you count for me!
(*How much I am need to count on you! *)
I talk again, uncertainly, still staring with trepidity at him, still holding him, still keeping his hand inside me.
“Really, Trip? Really do you enjoy me?”
I go on, with feeble voice, repeating his name. Emphasizing his name!
“Really.. do you find me… beautiful… TRIP?”
How… how splendid it is to see the look of stunned bliss that flares in his eyes at my words!
(*How splendid it is to hear his sweet response! *)
“I… I enjoy you immensely, Hon”
(*Hon! I’m his Hon! NOT COMMANDER! HON! *)
His words go down inside me, melting my katra.
“You are… so damn beautiful, Hon!”
I shut my eyes in pure happiness, and also bring the hand that is holding him by his nape to his hand that revels in my sex.
I push his hand strongly into my vulva with both my hands, moving my groin libidinously, the flame of my desire growing up again powerfully inside me.
My eyes again open and fixed in his with lustful purpose, I talk again.
Harshly and seductively.
“Am I particularly… beautiful when I’m…”
I say the rest of my question with absolute blatancy.
“… when I’m… yours?”
(*How splendid it is the ecstatic look that shines in his blue eyes! *)
I can’t help but keeping on with my wonderful love play.
(*I have learned indeed a lot from him! Indeed my K’diwa is a great teacher about love things! *)
My voice rises again, hoarse and hot.
“Am I particularly beautiful, when I am in…”
My voice breaks. It is very difficult for me to utter this word, but he continues in my place, a marvellous smile on his face.
“Yes, Honey! You are incredibly beautiful when you are in… love!”
I breathe deeply and long, my love game itself taking me inexorably into the abyss.
Looking steadily at him, still keeping his hand firmly inside me with my left hand, still and even more rocking my groin against his hand, I bring my right hand to the tense mound that reveals his desire from inside of his pants.
I grasp forcefully this bulge, and I talk one last time, huskily and eagerly.
“TRIP! I would like very much to feel myself… even more beautiful!”
He talks so to me, caressing my lips with his lips, using his usual teasing mood.
Why?
Why does he treat me so badly, just when I need his ... his love?
But.. I feel a sort of withheld awe in his tone, and I understand that he really has fear, because...
Shutting my eyes, I think of my deportment of the morning, after our first, marvellous night. I have denied arrogantly any feeling from me for him, after that I gave myself so totally to him.
Guilt and regret run through me.
How... how much have I made him suffer?
I bring my hand to his nape, drawing his head down, and I kiss him with… with love… and with passion, while my other hand pushes lustily against his hand which is holding me by my sex.
He must understand!
I.. MUST… make him understanding!
I detach my mouth from his and open my eyes, looking at him with trepidation.
AGAIN! Trepidation is my constant companion, tonight!
(*You must understand, Ashayam! You must! It is… it is important for me your response! *)
You must understand how much you count for me!
(*How much I am need to count on you! *)
I talk again, uncertainly, still staring with trepidity at him, still holding him, still keeping his hand inside me.
“Really, Trip? Really do you enjoy me?”
I go on, with feeble voice, repeating his name. Emphasizing his name!
“Really.. do you find me… beautiful… TRIP?”
How… how splendid it is to see the look of stunned bliss that flares in his eyes at my words!
(*How splendid it is to hear his sweet response! *)
“I… I enjoy you immensely, Hon”
(*Hon! I’m his Hon! NOT COMMANDER! HON! *)
His words go down inside me, melting my katra.
“You are… so damn beautiful, Hon!”
I shut my eyes in pure happiness, and also bring the hand that is holding him by his nape to his hand that revels in my sex.
I push his hand strongly into my vulva with both my hands, moving my groin libidinously, the flame of my desire growing up again powerfully inside me.
My eyes again open and fixed in his with lustful purpose, I talk again.
Harshly and seductively.
“Am I particularly… beautiful when I’m…”
I say the rest of my question with absolute blatancy.
“… when I’m… yours?”
(*How splendid it is the ecstatic look that shines in his blue eyes! *)
I can’t help but keeping on with my wonderful love play.
(*I have learned indeed a lot from him! Indeed my K’diwa is a great teacher about love things! *)
My voice rises again, hoarse and hot.
“Am I particularly beautiful, when I am in…”
My voice breaks. It is very difficult for me to utter this word, but he continues in my place, a marvellous smile on his face.
“Yes, Honey! You are incredibly beautiful when you are in… love!”
I breathe deeply and long, my love game itself taking me inexorably into the abyss.
Looking steadily at him, still keeping his hand firmly inside me with my left hand, still and even more rocking my groin against his hand, I bring my right hand to the tense mound that reveals his desire from inside of his pants.
I grasp forcefully this bulge, and I talk one last time, huskily and eagerly.
“TRIP! I would like very much to feel myself… even more beautiful!”
Can someone believe that the true gentleman that I am could disregard the wishes of a lady?
Of my… personal lady?
Of my… personal lady?
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COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]
COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]