Hunger and Iron

Written by Orchid on July 12, 2014. Posted in Blog

I found myself in his bed. Unsure of my motivations but there I was regardless. He kissed me passionately, the way I absolutely needed to be kissed. My skin prickled with electricity but then my arousal evaporated abruptly and entirely. It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of water on the fledgling flame of my desire. I pulled reluctantly away from his lips and asked him meekly if we could keep our clothes on for the time being, I wasn’t ready to be intimate. What I didn’t tell him that all I could think of was how I yearned for it to be your lips pressed to my flesh, not his. He said yes of course and as I started to fade from consciousness, I felt a bit of comfort momentarily cut through my sadness laying there wrapped up in his strong arms, his body pressed tightly against mine.

I awoke some hours later to the rattle of him turning off the air conditioner. On his way back into bed he climbed on top of me and, taking my face in his hands, kissed me gently. I felt so conflicted. I desperately craved intimacy, like a drowning man craves oxygen. But, as much as I wanted him, I wanted you so much more. My very bones burn relentlessly with desire for you always. All of these conflicting emotions battled within as we kissed. My body eventually drowned out the weeping of my heart and I gave in to his embrace, like a hungry child shamefully stealing a scrap of food.

He took his time touching every part of my heart that ached. It felt so bittersweet, like he was pressing his lips firmly upon a bruise, the pain intertwining with the healing of his affections. Each climax I felt tore me between utter despair and unadulterated catharsis.

He grabbed a rubber from somewhere next to the bed and when he finally entered me my orgasm barely seemed to mask my half-choked sob. I wanted this but my heart could hardly stand the reality of having anyone other than you inside me. Pressing the weight of himself upon my chest, he drove methodically into me, bringing me to the brink of climax. As the impending wave of bliss loomed he whispered against my arching neck, “That’s it, come on my cock, as many times as you want.” His rasping breath burned against my skin. My body fought even more fiercely against my heart, throwing me into a state of pure carnality. All I felt was lust. I begged him for more. After that it was one wave if pleasure after another. I cried out his name which incited him to pump into me harder. I begged for him to come, I needed desperately to feel it. His breath came hard and ragged from his lips, a growl rolled devilishly from his throat. The moment I felt him begin to come, my entire body was overtaken once again by a blinding climax.

At the cessation of endorphins I felt completely hollow, bereft of all happiness. Much like a junkie only finds happiness in getting high and feels horrid when they come down. My heart and lungs felt like they were being squeezed together by an angry fist. I wanted you, more than anything in the world. I felt filthy and cold. Like I was laying naked in an open grave, bits of damp earth and dew precariously clinging to my raised flesh. I need the warmth of your embrace, the heat of your touch, the fire of your heart.

Tu me manques.

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Painted Lady. Brass Acrobat. Aerialist. Snake Charmer. Jill-Of-All-Trades. Nerdery Enthusiast. Show-off. Writer. Photographer. Doodler. Cheese, all the cheese.

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