when we belong to the world…

Another evening ends, and the public goodbyes are said. They walk under cool skies, appearing calm to anyone who might see them. Yet their hearts beat brisk as they walk side by side, wrists barely touching.  They sneak a kiss under a tree and again around the corner as he pulls her to him, pressing her against the brick while she, standing on tippy toes, eagerly reaches to meet his lips…

Your voice husky in my ear: you can’t wait for me. This is what you say.

Another moon rises while songs and words echo from the evening’s entertainment – an evening like so many others but none like this – just before this moment. He holds yet another door open for her, inhaling her as she passes under his nose. His cock is bone-heavy, and pushes against his pants, almost panting, he wants her so badly. He leads her now, holding her hand where no one can see, through a door they’ve walked through countless times before.

My voice hungry in your ear: you touch yourself for me. This is what you do.

And when he locks the door he knows this is it; he knows he will never go back, that nothing else will matter like this will… does… and she, she will never be the same.  Finally, they are alone. There is no hiding, no more waiting. She is wet. All she wants is for him to slip between her smooth folds, she has shaved especially in anticipation. He smiles at her sweet shiver.

Your breath catches: my wet wraps around you. This is what you want.

The soft music fills the air around them – this music, playing on a cd he’s made for her because he wants to fill her with music – like she does him. When his thick, full rod throbs against the end of her small, tight cunt their music swells and every time after this, whenever she hears this music, she will hear his whimpers for her supple curves, feel his tongue suckling her ear, neck, and pert nipples; she will feel the vibration of his moans, and feel his hands tugging on her like his life depends on her.  Looking only into the brightness of her adoration, and her vitality, he blinds himself to everything but this music.

You look deep into my eyes: my small makes way for your big. This is why you are here.

Her voice gasps his name. His rhythm pounces on his need and she obliges, she obliges, she begs and nods and grasps and arches and he drinks her in with every inch he is.  Their muffled animal cries sink into corners of the other’s skin. She imprints on him, in him, to the end of his bone(s). She is one of many and yet, somehow tonight, she feels like the first, maybe even… and so he lets her be the Only for this moment that lasts forever.  And when they cum, they cum together slowly, their breath hot as the Sahara – fevered and languorous. Each breath takes a lifetime to catch again.

(They listen between settling breaths: traffic winging in the distance, a branch against a window, raccoons fighting, buds blooming, or maybe snow falling, a faraway sigh between commercials, rumblings of metal below…)

You kiss and caress me: you smile your love.  This is what you take.

That is where we are.

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13 Responses to “when we belong to the world…”

  1. Beatnik du Jour April 27, 2013 at 12:58 am #

    So very beautiful… I can imagine each moment, picture myself in every scene. Many perfect lines, if nothing else I’m glad to have come read this one piece. But you know I will keep on reading 😉

    • secretthots April 27, 2013 at 1:02 am #

      Well, thank you for your kindness! I’m so glad to hear how you receive it… I’m humbled that you keep reading. 🙂

      • Beatnik du Jour April 27, 2013 at 1:08 am #

        I kept want to copy and paste lines that I found exceptional, but then I would have had nearly the whole thing. A wonderful piece.

        • secretthots April 27, 2013 at 1:10 am #

          Oh, how delightful! But now I’m curious to know what you would cut and paste – what drew you in… 🙂

          • Beatnik du Jour April 27, 2013 at 1:24 am #

            “He holds yet another door open for her, inhaling her as she passes under his nose.” “this music, playing on a cd he’s made for her because he wants to fill her with music – like she does him.” “feel his hands tugging on her like his life depends on her.” …and then I can’t help but copy all of the last three paragraphs. Of course the sexy bits draw me in as well but those parts speak to me personally.

            • secretthots April 27, 2013 at 1:29 am #

              Oh, love that! Thanks for indulging my curiosity with such an honest response. 🙂 I am always surprised and more or less secretly pleased to hear what resonates, tickles and tantalizes inside – head, heart, soul, imagination, potential… your feedback and honesty pleases me. Yet another experiment that (at least for you) went right, phew! 🙂

              • Beatnik du Jour April 27, 2013 at 1:32 am #

                Now you placed me on the side of curiosity… Why would you mention that it “went right” for me? Something lurks…

                • secretthots April 27, 2013 at 1:36 am #

                  Haha, I didn’t mean anything except that so far, yours is the only feedback I’ve received and I am grateful to have trustworthy feedback (as well as grateful for your generous encouragement). As to what lurks, maybe it’s a version of my uncertainty that lurks a bit too close to the surface, especially when I’m trying to write about deeply felt things AND when I’m trying something new (which, let’s be honest, is kinda this whole blog)… 🙂 xo

                  • Beatnik du Jour April 27, 2013 at 10:04 am #

                    I see. I used to fret about who was reading, how many, their feedback, etc. then at some point I realized it was driving my creativity. I created what I thought people would like and not necessarily what I liked. I wasn’t allowing myself to be open and true. Not saying I do any better now at those last two bits but I’m happier not worrying about the response I get. Not telling you what to do, just encouraging you to experiment regardless of how it is received.

                    • secretthots April 27, 2013 at 3:30 pm #

                      Ah. Yes, I hear that, thank you for your perspective and encouragement… again, grateful for it. 🙂

                      I must admit that I had very low expectations for this blog – I didn’t expect it to be seen by the wide world in any way . I remain largely ignorant to the realm of and potential within bloggy wog land so, when someone comments, it really is a surprise and I’m also surprised how interesting it’s been to find connections through an outlet that, for the most part, was not intended for anyone but myself. And yet, I’ve also come to value visits and comments from certain readers (yourself included) partly because you are so bloody encouraging 😉 but also because it seems we share perspectives that challenge and affirm me. Ultimately, though, I am writing and posting for myself… the rest is gravy… or, even better: lovely icing. 🙂

                      I too am an artist and as much as it is tempting to work for approval, it’s not what compels me, ultimately. I find that to be the same in this medium… though, because it is such an unfamiliar medium to me, I don’t even really have a sense of things like ‘audience’ and ‘product’ like I might otherwise in my every day practice of art-making. So, I find myself caught off guard (which isn’t a bad thing)… it’s just new, all of this, and sometimes, that results in things feeling more uncertain than I know how to reckon with easily.

                    • Beatnik du Jour April 27, 2013 at 4:45 pm #

                      I could have said the exact same thing that you just have. And I most certainly agree that share perspectives. Keep it as an outlet for yourself but please allow us (me) to view it, share it, taste it, love it, hate it along with you.

                    • secretthots April 27, 2013 at 5:26 pm #

                      Deal. 🙂

                    • Beatnik du Jour April 27, 2013 at 5:29 pm #

                      xo

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