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Sartre: My Two Loves
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: SARTRE: MY TWO LOVES
NOTE: The first couple of lines were deleted at some sites when this
was first posted early this morning. Therefore, here it is
again. Enjoy.
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Watching him sleep was such a wonderful thing. In rest there were
no frowns, no worries, just peace. He is beautiful when he sleeps. His
dark hair falls across his forehead and I gently brush it off. The long
lashes on lids closed over those incredible hazel eyes. He takes my
breath away sometimes without ever knowing that he's doing it and never
understanding why. He was good that night. He was everything that my
heart desired. Loving, tender, passionate, attentive. Yet, there was a
part of me that he didn't reach and that part of me yearned to be
caressed. I thought of you as J and I made love. I wondered what it
would feel like to have your body pressed against mine as his had been.
I wondered what it would be like to have your lips touch that place that
yearned. I wanted you. More than that, I desired you. I wanted to feel
the curve of your breasts and taste the sweetness of your skin. And yes,
I wanted you in my head as well as in my bed. Try as he may, J will
never be able to touch that part of my being just because.
When I saw you alone for those last precious minutes, and was
finally able to touch the body of the woman I loved, I felt that this is
what I've missed for so very long. This was right. This was the way
it's supposed to be. I felt the warmth and the love. The connection was
there for me. All of these feelings enveloped me as I watched him
sleeping peacefully that night as my body yearned. I thought about
holding you in my arms and nuzzling your breasts as I caressed my own.
In the darkness of the room, with the only light that of the reflection
from the pool outside, I closed my eyes and pretended that the fingers
encircling my nipples were yours. That the hot breath on my neck from
him was you blowing softly on that special spot just behind my ear. As
my nipples came to attention I imagined your tongue flicking over them
fast and furiously causing me to moan in delectable pleasure. Yes, I
wanted you. I wanted you with me in that bed. I wanted you to touch me
and to be able to touch you in every conceivable way. The more I wanted
you, the more that special place cried out. It was your touch that it
wanted. I'd grown large and hot. From experience I knew that I was a
deep pink--almost purple. I wanted to explode, but I wanted the feeling
to last for that was the only way that I could have you with me.
Very slowly I moved one hand down my stomach barely touching the
skin. The other continued to play with my nipples. Pinching, twisting,
kneading them with my fingers. My body was on fire and I hate to think
of the noises that probably awakened the guests in the next room. I
thought about what you'd do to me if you were there. I decided that
you'd tease me mercilessly by making small circles with your finger just
above my pubic bone. My hips thrust against J's thigh involuntarily
while he slept on oblivious to my movements. The moans and whimpers
escaping my lips because I was powerless to control the fuck lust. I bit
my lower lip so hard that I tasted teeny tiny droplets of blood. I
wanted you and only you at that moment. My hands moved to gently caress
my inner thighs slick with the juices that J left behind. I closed my
eyes more tightly and breathed more deeply. All the while my hips
occasionally thrusting against his thigh. I wanted to cum so badly. My
head a swirl of sexual energy. My hands moved inward toward my clit--
that special place that held the key to my release. So hot, so wet, so
engorged. I whimpered and fought hard to stay in control. I was
determined to hold on as long as I could so that I could feel you with
me. I slowly ran a finger along my slit feeling the lips swollen to
almost twice their normal aroused size. My body screamed at me for
release. I inserted a finger into my hole, pretending that it was yours.
I used the thumb of the same hand to circle around the shaft just below
the head. I knew that if I touched the head the moment would be over,
never to be recaptured in the same way again. I wanted that moment to
last as long as it possibly could. The finger pushed in a little deeper
and I began to work it in and out slowly, slowly. I inserted another
finger and felt the muscles tighten around them as the furnace was
stoked. My juices flowed like a river intermixed with the remnants of
J's. Finally, I could take no more and my body thrust against him
involuntarily as I fucked myself with my hand. I brushed the thumb
against the head of my clit a couple of times and wailed your name as I
came and came and came. I quivered as the muscles contracted. The room
spun and I lost all sense of time and place. The fuck lust had taken
control and I didn't hold back. I don't know how long I orgasmed, but it
felt like forever. In a word, it was "delicious." I took my fingers out
of my body and held them under my nose. Ah yes, the pungent smell of
release. It was inviting so I had to taste. First one finger, and then
the other, found its way into my mouth where I licked and sucked them
clean.
I looked over at J softly snoring the night away. Never moving.
Never knowing that he'd aided in bringing me closer to you. As much as I
adore him neither he, nor any other man, will ever be able to touch that
part of me. You and J are my two loves. Each of you holding a portion
of me inside of you. Each of you giving a portion of yourselves to me.
One day woman-love. One day...
Sartre
P.S.: J, thank you for your gift.
--
*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*
* The Child cries amidst the BlackHole. So alone. So dark. Why was no *
* one there to hear hir pleas? What crime had sie commited? Sie would *
* give anything to escape the BlackHole. Anything at all. *
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