Well, my dear friends, we can not say that our two lovers have spared themselves during these first two nights of love.
Perhaps a little break, a little rest, are opportune, if not necessary.
However, this does not mean that the struggles of love are ended. No, not at all. Indeed, in a sense, the real struggle, the real war starts now.
Perhaps a little break, a little rest, are opportune, if not necessary.
However, this does not mean that the struggles of love are ended. No, not at all. Indeed, in a sense, the real struggle, the real war starts now.
Because, you know ..
Yes, love is war, everyone knows it.
But not all wars are the same, not all wars of love are similar.
And here we are talking about a very special love war, the first war of love that was fought between a human male and a vulcan female.
So, what kind of war will this be? Who will be the winner?
And the one who will lose this war, will he/she be really a loser?
Chapter Thirteen
Love is War
Love is War
The fire of the love's instrument of my T'hai'la goes off in my mouth. Slowly and sweetly its potency fades away and slowly and sweetly it withdraws and leaves my mouth, flowing mildly between my lips.
It stops before my searing lips, beady with its life dew, unwilling to abandon my mouth. Unwilling to go away.
The heavy gasp of my lover mingles with mine, while we try to regain a little of breath.
On my cheeks I feel the hands of my Beloved. They are slightly trembling and are caressing my skin. Tenderly, lovingly, without passion, now.
Now, with quiet love.
I acknowledge it, can feel it.
How many things I have learned about love. What a teacher is my Love.
My hands release their grip on the thighs' flesh of my man... (*Of my man*) ... and go around his body, to his back. And my arms embrace him. And lovingly and tenderly clench him.
Without passion, now. Now, with quiet love.
And I know that he acknowledges that; that he can feel it.
I raise my eye upwards, without letting my lips get away from his limp penis, rubbing them against it, and I watch his face.
I search in his visage for something.
What will he think of me?
It's strange, or maybe not, how this thought occurs just now, in my mind, after... after this last deed... of lust and of passion... that I did to him. And to me.
But this thought gyrates in my brain, even in the blissful and satisfied completion I feel at this moment.
What will he think of me?
I have seduced him, I have done it. I gave myself to him, to the first man of my life. To the one that I know will be the only one. I have wanted it. I have wanted it almost against his will itself, and I have done that without any containment, without the tiniest shyness. And without shame, unrestrainedly, with wanton hankering, I played with him my first love games, in our first night.
Then I withdrew, the morning after, recreantly and with words I knew would wound him.
And then, after my deliberately hurting words, I gripped the lifeline that he threw me, I slipped into the tiny and still clear opening he gave me, and I offered myself to him for the second time.
And I did that in the most evident, in the most shameless, in the most lustful way that could ever exist. I gave myself to him like... like no woman, I am sure, could do if not with her man, with her only man. I gave myself to him... totally, I let him take unrestrained and complete possession of me, to such a point that even my mouth has become the clef of his power over me, of my desire to be taken, and possessed, and owned by him.
What will he think of me? Of the stern and self-controlled Vulcan woman that I display to everyone and who became in his hands a bundle of lust and of passion, of lecherous desire for love?
What will he think of my behaviour? And of the unrestrained lustfulness with which I sucked his seed and his potency with my mouth and my soul? Of the wanton pleasure I wallowed in, following his guide?
Which woman, will he think that I am?
Will I still have his respect? And, with it... his love?
I observe his visage with keen attention, from my crouched position on the bed, and I know that my face, that my eyes, are not deadpan; that they speak volumes.
It stops before my searing lips, beady with its life dew, unwilling to abandon my mouth. Unwilling to go away.
The heavy gasp of my lover mingles with mine, while we try to regain a little of breath.
On my cheeks I feel the hands of my Beloved. They are slightly trembling and are caressing my skin. Tenderly, lovingly, without passion, now.
Now, with quiet love.
I acknowledge it, can feel it.
How many things I have learned about love. What a teacher is my Love.
My hands release their grip on the thighs' flesh of my man... (*Of my man*) ... and go around his body, to his back. And my arms embrace him. And lovingly and tenderly clench him.
Without passion, now. Now, with quiet love.
And I know that he acknowledges that; that he can feel it.
I raise my eye upwards, without letting my lips get away from his limp penis, rubbing them against it, and I watch his face.
I search in his visage for something.
What will he think of me?
It's strange, or maybe not, how this thought occurs just now, in my mind, after... after this last deed... of lust and of passion... that I did to him. And to me.
But this thought gyrates in my brain, even in the blissful and satisfied completion I feel at this moment.
What will he think of me?
I have seduced him, I have done it. I gave myself to him, to the first man of my life. To the one that I know will be the only one. I have wanted it. I have wanted it almost against his will itself, and I have done that without any containment, without the tiniest shyness. And without shame, unrestrainedly, with wanton hankering, I played with him my first love games, in our first night.
Then I withdrew, the morning after, recreantly and with words I knew would wound him.
And then, after my deliberately hurting words, I gripped the lifeline that he threw me, I slipped into the tiny and still clear opening he gave me, and I offered myself to him for the second time.
And I did that in the most evident, in the most shameless, in the most lustful way that could ever exist. I gave myself to him like... like no woman, I am sure, could do if not with her man, with her only man. I gave myself to him... totally, I let him take unrestrained and complete possession of me, to such a point that even my mouth has become the clef of his power over me, of my desire to be taken, and possessed, and owned by him.
What will he think of me? Of the stern and self-controlled Vulcan woman that I display to everyone and who became in his hands a bundle of lust and of passion, of lecherous desire for love?
What will he think of my behaviour? And of the unrestrained lustfulness with which I sucked his seed and his potency with my mouth and my soul? Of the wanton pleasure I wallowed in, following his guide?
Which woman, will he think that I am?
Will I still have his respect? And, with it... his love?
I observe his visage with keen attention, from my crouched position on the bed, and I know that my face, that my eyes, are not deadpan; that they speak volumes.
I watch her, from on high, while we are trying to catch our breath, savouring the mild embrace of her arms around me, my hands sweetly stroking the sweaty and hot skin of her cheeks.
I watch her scrutinizing me, my face, my eyes. I see the keen attention with which she observes me, and I discern the worried glare shining in her look.
I don't know what happened to me during our first love night, I don't even dare think about that sort of alien being, of foreign essence which seemed to latch onto me in our first love encounter, but it's as if a new ability is born inside me. She is no longer a closed book now, to me, I can read her, and her thoughts. Her feelings, her... emotions. Or maybe, more simply, that's love. I don't know if I will able to reveal it to her, one day, but I no longer have doubts now. I am in love with this alien Vulcan, so different from any Human woman, and so marvellous. My dreams, the unspoken dreams I had about her, were nothing else but the desires of a man, but this reality which surrounds us, it is beyond, very much beyond, those dreams.
She is my woman, the only woman I have truly had, and the only one I wanted, and want, and forever will want.
That's why now I am able, someway, to understand her, and to pluck her inner turmoils.
Love makes me able to do that.
Who knows if she may also be catching my signals? I... yes... I think - I desperately hope - so.
I respond to her look, with a word.
I whisper it with a low voice, almost in a breath, but it speaks volumes, like the trembling glow of her eyes.
"Hon."
I watch her scrutinizing me, my face, my eyes. I see the keen attention with which she observes me, and I discern the worried glare shining in her look.
I don't know what happened to me during our first love night, I don't even dare think about that sort of alien being, of foreign essence which seemed to latch onto me in our first love encounter, but it's as if a new ability is born inside me. She is no longer a closed book now, to me, I can read her, and her thoughts. Her feelings, her... emotions. Or maybe, more simply, that's love. I don't know if I will able to reveal it to her, one day, but I no longer have doubts now. I am in love with this alien Vulcan, so different from any Human woman, and so marvellous. My dreams, the unspoken dreams I had about her, were nothing else but the desires of a man, but this reality which surrounds us, it is beyond, very much beyond, those dreams.
She is my woman, the only woman I have truly had, and the only one I wanted, and want, and forever will want.
That's why now I am able, someway, to understand her, and to pluck her inner turmoils.
Love makes me able to do that.
Who knows if she may also be catching my signals? I... yes... I think - I desperately hope - so.
I respond to her look, with a word.
I whisper it with a low voice, almost in a breath, but it speaks volumes, like the trembling glow of her eyes.
"Hon."
It caresses my ears, enters them, goes up in my mind; it spreads and permeates my soul.
Hon. It was his response. One only word, enough to make me aware that he understood, and that he is in love with me.
And that for him, nothing else counts.
It's a warm awareness which soothes my Katra, but only for a brief instant. It brings with it other disquieting thoughts.
Will I deserve him, his love? Will I be - I, the woman I am - capable of doing that?
And... - strange, how such thoughts can seize my mind, now, at this moment, after all I... we... have done, while I am nude, embracing him, and basking in his possession, in the after-glow of our lovemaking - ... and would it be fair, all that? I am Vulcan, he is Human. Would I be able to make him happy, and he me? Wouldn't we destroy each other, sinking into a spiral of incomprehension? And - an unwelcome knot clenches my throat - would I be able to hide from him, forever, my shame, my weakness... my drug addiction? That would be unfair, between two people who are bonded to each other, who... who... love each other, but... but when and if I will reveal the truth to him, what kind of respect could I have from him? And his love, the new drug addiction which will have grasped me, will it fade away, and for all the right reasons?
And - the knot in my throat gets tighter - let's suppose that we will manage to pass unharmed through all this, when he... when he will have to go, when his life will be at its end, way before mine, how... how will I be able to survive? To not cede to the deeper despair? To not fall into the dark of madness? How could I live without the warm touch of his hands? Of his soul?
Wouldn't it be better to end everything, now? Before it becomes impossible?
If...if such a thing is yet feasible.
My hug becomes even stronger. My eyes don't leave his. I'm soundlessly seeking in them another response.
Hon. It was his response. One only word, enough to make me aware that he understood, and that he is in love with me.
And that for him, nothing else counts.
It's a warm awareness which soothes my Katra, but only for a brief instant. It brings with it other disquieting thoughts.
Will I deserve him, his love? Will I be - I, the woman I am - capable of doing that?
And... - strange, how such thoughts can seize my mind, now, at this moment, after all I... we... have done, while I am nude, embracing him, and basking in his possession, in the after-glow of our lovemaking - ... and would it be fair, all that? I am Vulcan, he is Human. Would I be able to make him happy, and he me? Wouldn't we destroy each other, sinking into a spiral of incomprehension? And - an unwelcome knot clenches my throat - would I be able to hide from him, forever, my shame, my weakness... my drug addiction? That would be unfair, between two people who are bonded to each other, who... who... love each other, but... but when and if I will reveal the truth to him, what kind of respect could I have from him? And his love, the new drug addiction which will have grasped me, will it fade away, and for all the right reasons?
And - the knot in my throat gets tighter - let's suppose that we will manage to pass unharmed through all this, when he... when he will have to go, when his life will be at its end, way before mine, how... how will I be able to survive? To not cede to the deeper despair? To not fall into the dark of madness? How could I live without the warm touch of his hands? Of his soul?
Wouldn't it be better to end everything, now? Before it becomes impossible?
If...if such a thing is yet feasible.
My hug becomes even stronger. My eyes don't leave his. I'm soundlessly seeking in them another response.
Yes, my signals are not devoid of significance, for my T'Pol. The light of comprehension, of relief, which has shone in her eyes, said all to me.
Something new is born between us, and this something is not only a mere physical attraction. I know what it is, and if she has difficulties recognizing what this thing is, it will be my duty and my pleasure to teach her its meaning.
And I want to employ my whole life, pursuing this purpose, and I won't allow her fear to thwart our happiness; her fear, of woman and of Vulcan, or whatever else, whatever secret she hides.
Slowly and sweetly I lower myself, careful to not break her embrace. I kneel before her, still caressing her cheeks, without leaving her eyes, which follow mine. Her face mirrors my moves, until our visages are just in front of each other.
I slide lightly my lips against hers, as softly as I can.
I am not profound, my world is made with brisk thoughts, with abrupt decisions, it is a world of actions, far from her well settled and logical universe.
How... how can I make her understand? How can I display to her my Human heart, without... without frightening her? How can I demonstrate to her, without making her withdraw, that I will be forever for her a safe harbour, willing to give her everything, without wanting anything in return? Nothing but her love?
What tools can I use? We are so distant from each other, our races are so different. I don't even know if I am behaving properly for her, or if I am adding error to error, in my will to bind her to me.
A sudden thought runs through my most intimate being. Is this what I want? Fighting an endless battle against her fear, against her foreignness, to gain her love? The love of a woman who, maybe, is unable to understand love? Or, at least, what Humans think that love is?
Then, with the strength of a hurricane, all that passed between us, until now, until this moment, hits me. And all I am able to read of her mind and of her soul, because it's true, I can read her, her eyes are the mirror of her soul, for me. That didn't happen with any other woman, won't happen with any other woman, because there will be no other woman for me. And for the last time I cease to have stupid thoughts, because only one truth is real: I am damned, forever entrapped in her depths, and in her eyes I recognize what she is seeking, silently, in my own depths.
Make me cast out my fear, Trip. Make me do this. - That's what she is begging me for. - Do not allow me to be overwhelmed by my fright. - I can understand, I can read her. - Force me to go across the bridge. You can, you are Human; I can't, I am Vulcan. Only with my force, am I unable to do it.
I can understand, I can read her.
Take me for what I am. With all my being, with all my essence and all my... secrets. - I can understand, I can read her.
I had other women, I had love adventures. And... I was always a loser, in such things.
This time, NO!
This time, I mustn't lose.
I must make her understand, in her turn, I must.
She is a treasure I mustn't lose.
That's a war I cannot lose.
Something new is born between us, and this something is not only a mere physical attraction. I know what it is, and if she has difficulties recognizing what this thing is, it will be my duty and my pleasure to teach her its meaning.
And I want to employ my whole life, pursuing this purpose, and I won't allow her fear to thwart our happiness; her fear, of woman and of Vulcan, or whatever else, whatever secret she hides.
Slowly and sweetly I lower myself, careful to not break her embrace. I kneel before her, still caressing her cheeks, without leaving her eyes, which follow mine. Her face mirrors my moves, until our visages are just in front of each other.
I slide lightly my lips against hers, as softly as I can.
I am not profound, my world is made with brisk thoughts, with abrupt decisions, it is a world of actions, far from her well settled and logical universe.
How... how can I make her understand? How can I display to her my Human heart, without... without frightening her? How can I demonstrate to her, without making her withdraw, that I will be forever for her a safe harbour, willing to give her everything, without wanting anything in return? Nothing but her love?
What tools can I use? We are so distant from each other, our races are so different. I don't even know if I am behaving properly for her, or if I am adding error to error, in my will to bind her to me.
A sudden thought runs through my most intimate being. Is this what I want? Fighting an endless battle against her fear, against her foreignness, to gain her love? The love of a woman who, maybe, is unable to understand love? Or, at least, what Humans think that love is?
Then, with the strength of a hurricane, all that passed between us, until now, until this moment, hits me. And all I am able to read of her mind and of her soul, because it's true, I can read her, her eyes are the mirror of her soul, for me. That didn't happen with any other woman, won't happen with any other woman, because there will be no other woman for me. And for the last time I cease to have stupid thoughts, because only one truth is real: I am damned, forever entrapped in her depths, and in her eyes I recognize what she is seeking, silently, in my own depths.
Make me cast out my fear, Trip. Make me do this. - That's what she is begging me for. - Do not allow me to be overwhelmed by my fright. - I can understand, I can read her. - Force me to go across the bridge. You can, you are Human; I can't, I am Vulcan. Only with my force, am I unable to do it.
I can understand, I can read her.
Take me for what I am. With all my being, with all my essence and all my... secrets. - I can understand, I can read her.
I had other women, I had love adventures. And... I was always a loser, in such things.
This time, NO!
This time, I mustn't lose.
I must make her understand, in her turn, I must.
She is a treasure I mustn't lose.
That's a war I cannot lose.
He watches me, caresses me, smiles to me. He doesn't speak.
He takes my face between his hands. Watches me again.
He smiles, he smiles again.
He kisses me, lightly, with a soft touch of his lips on mine.
I close my eyes, I hold him tightly with my arms, I relish the slight fondling of his mouth on mine.
I reopen my eyes and find him staring into mine. He doesn't smile, now, and goes on not speaking.
He gazes at me; waiting; for me to understand. To trust him.
And I understand. And I trust him.
I lower my head on his shoulder and bask in his scent, in his warmth.
In his love.
Eyes shut, I make him comprehend.
I give myself to him, and this time I give him my soul.
I entrust myself to him.
I know it, I will suffer; I will make him suffer.
I... we... are starting a war.
But I will combat with all my strength. Yes, I will fight desperately to lose this war.
He takes my face between his hands. Watches me again.
He smiles, he smiles again.
He kisses me, lightly, with a soft touch of his lips on mine.
I close my eyes, I hold him tightly with my arms, I relish the slight fondling of his mouth on mine.
I reopen my eyes and find him staring into mine. He doesn't smile, now, and goes on not speaking.
He gazes at me; waiting; for me to understand. To trust him.
And I understand. And I trust him.
I lower my head on his shoulder and bask in his scent, in his warmth.
In his love.
Eyes shut, I make him comprehend.
I give myself to him, and this time I give him my soul.
I entrust myself to him.
I know it, I will suffer; I will make him suffer.
I... we... are starting a war.
But I will combat with all my strength. Yes, I will fight desperately to lose this war.
********************************
Yeah, it's weird but it's true. You can fight to win, and you may struggle to lose.
And the war will be long, very long.
What we have seen in the television show, even in the midst of all the inaccuracies and misstatements with which, unfortunately, it was studded and impoverished, has made clearly see the fundamental correctness of this assertion.
Slowly, if you will allow me, my friends, thanks to the memories that my ancestors has bequeathed to me, I will show it to you, of course in its true truth, as it is logical to be done on the part of the honest liar that I am, beginning with the next chapter, which will be the last of this long story, but, in a sense, the first of many.
We could call it ... the start of the future.
And the war will be long, very long.
What we have seen in the television show, even in the midst of all the inaccuracies and misstatements with which, unfortunately, it was studded and impoverished, has made clearly see the fundamental correctness of this assertion.
Slowly, if you will allow me, my friends, thanks to the memories that my ancestors has bequeathed to me, I will show it to you, of course in its true truth, as it is logical to be done on the part of the honest liar that I am, beginning with the next chapter, which will be the last of this long story, but, in a sense, the first of many.
We could call it ... the start of the future.
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COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]
COPYRIGHT 2013 © Asso - [email protected]