An Unknowing Love

You asked me to share one of my many fantasies about you.  What follows is about you – and about me.  It contains some truths, some untruths and some memories.  It is wistful, fanciful, lustful and loving.  And it is about a special connection, one which neither of us fully understand.  

As you know, I self-identify as polyamorous.  In the poly community, it is generally agreed that folks are either poly by nature or by choice, and I wholeheartedly agree with this.  I have also studied evolutionary psychology and believe strongly that monogamy differs in that it can only be practiced by choice, never by nature; it is not and has never been core to our sexual makeup.  In other words, we can by nature desire to love one or more than one, but our desire to be sexual with more than one is deeply ingrained in all of us.  We can repress the desire and not act on it, but it will always remain a part of who we are. 

I am poly by nature.  I know this by my feelings and by a review of my history, which shows that in spite of my best efforts and good intentions, I have never been able to sustain monogamy for an extended period of time.  Some people believe I am actively polyamorous now due to the fact I enjoy two long-standing, simultaneous relationships: a  loving twenty year marriage and a close six year intimate friendship.  But, I know this not to be true, due to the longing in my heart and my ongoing search for another beloved to fill the void.  I hope to find her soon.  Could it be you someday? 

And what about you?   Are you poly?  Monogamous?  Conflicted?  If you permit me to express a wild-ass guess, I would say all of the above.  You are poly by nature, monogamous by choice and conflicted.  By poly, you are polysexual for sure, and probably, polyamorous.  You neither confirm nor deny, but my guess is that you live life mostly monogamously, and more strictly so while pregnant and while trying to get pregnant.  Certainly, during this period you have expressed no sexual interest in me; although, I can’t speak to any other relationships you might have.  I can say that you appear overall happy with life, love your husband and child deeply and are proud as a peacock with your new expanded family.  Yet, without judgment, I sometimes wonder if your authentic self can fully manifest before drowning in a sea of normality.  Time will tell. 

We discuss these things over breakfast at our old stomping ground, a restaurant where  we used to meet and solve world problems.  Remember?  The grandparents are visiting and allowing you a much needed reprieve from childcare for an entire day.  As we converse, I take frequent peeks at your semi-exposed breasts.  You dress to tease, wearing a low cut top and leaning over the table as we talk.  I pretend not to notice.  But, of course, I do and you know I do.  God, I love those tits!  Even more so, I love that you like to torture me in this way.  I would love to fondle and suckle them once again, but realize those days may be behind us.  This saddens me. 

We talk about the authentic self and the importance of being true to one’s nature and the potential for agonizing confliction resulting from the failure to honor core truth.  The backdrop of our conversation is an unspoken truth: I know that you know how badly I desire you and long for a relationship that is both intimately romantic and intensely physical; you know that I know this is not possible because of the normative nature of your primary relationship; and we both know, that while hope runs eternal, there are real life limits.

A myriad of interesting topics are covered during our conversation.  You tell me about your littles group and your latest child play activities.  We talk about Frolicon and your husband’s initiation into the fetish world.  We discuss the Oneness of the Universe and how everything is fully connected by energy.  We take delight in the energy connection between us and amusement by how both of us are often sexually aroused at the same time, even when separated by distance.  It seems as if it is our way of making love.  We talk about the Disciples of Christ Church, the place where my wife and I were married and where you adjust your mindset to more normative religious belief.  Will your child be raised to become a DC disciple?       

   

In our sexual past, the most important limit to you, and certainly the most frustrating to me, was cock-in-pussy fucking (known in polite society as PIV intercourse).  Today, I don’t know our sexual limits, or in general, even the exact nature of our relationship.   And, fortunately, I don’t waste time or energy trying to figure it out.  I do know I am enjoying the present moment, right now, right here at this place with you.  A part of me wants to create more of these moments, and another part of me wants to just be fully present and do nothing beyond soaking up as much of your feminine energy as possible. 

From time to time, we exchange I love you’s.  This is something else I do not try to analyze or fully comprehend.  The word love is used so broadly it can mean anything from a deep emotional bond to loving potato chips for a midnight snack.  Tragically, love is greatly misunderstood in our society, perpetuated by a sex-negative culture that tells us that if we love one person, there is less love available for another or others.  Society teaches that love is an economy of scarcity; those of us wise enough to know better understand that love is an economy of abundance.  I have unlimited love to give and you are part of my circle of love.

Our conversation has been wonderful, but very serious, and we both sense it is time to lighten up.  We now only discuss mundane matters and continue to do so until long after breakfast is over.  Sadly, it is soon time to leave.  After walking you to your car, we exchange a big hug and a friendly kiss.  (This is expected; what happens next is not expected.)  You return your lips to my mouth for a more intimate kiss.  We hold the kiss and your lips part, slightly at first, but more fully as the kiss unfolds.  In time, our mouths open fully and our tongues meet in the ancient dance of lust and desire.  I feel your body melt into mine, your ample breasts pressing against my chest, and the touching of our bellies and thighs.  I feel, and I know you feel, my growing hard-on poking into your gut.  I never wanted anyone more and was thrilled when you whispered the magic word in my ear: motel?

We check into our room, close the blinds and transition easily into D/s (Dominate/submissive) mode.  I  tersely order you to strip naked and lie face up on the bed, and without hesitation or protest, you obey.  I place a towel on a chair (consistent with nudist protocol), position the chair directly at the foot of the bed and disrobe.  I sit quietly and intently worship your naked body, lying still before me on the altar of lust.  After long minutes of silence, seeming like hours to you, but only seconds to me, I command you to touch your body from toe to head, lightly and sensually.  After a slow journey up your body and over the mountains of soft curves, your hands reach your face.  I tell you to slowly and tenderly caress your face, eyes, ears, nose, chin and mouth like a lover’s touch during foreplay.  And you do as you are told, while I observe lustfully from the foot of the altar.

Next, I command that your forefinger be my prick and that you lick it erotically, starting at the base and slowly working up to the crown.  After many thrilling caresses with your tongue on the tip and around the head of my now needy cock, I tell you to put your finger in your mouth and move it in and out.  “Give me your best blowjob!  Make me come!  Oh, my god, that feels so good.  Don‘t stop until you fill your mouth with my come.”  And you obey.  Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, my finger cock is expertly stimulated under your administrations.  I am now so turned on that my cock, the one attached to my body, can no longer wait.  I jack off at a pace matching the finger cock in your mouth.  This continues until you feel spurts of real come landing on your calf and foot, and inexplicably, you even sense your finger shooting hard against the back of your throat.  You swallow and seductively lick your lips.

“Bend your knees and spread them wide,” I order.  “I want to worship your pussy.”   You protest and I demand your obedience.  You feel helpless and humiliated, yet comply, knowing I will be disappointed in you, even punish you, if you fail to obey.  “Now, play with your clit.  I want to see you come.  Don’t stop and don’t fake it.  I want to witness a real, honest to god orgasm.”  You touch your pussy in a way only a woman knows how, with just the right pressure and speed, changing constantly as your physical and emotional needs demand.  I watch you breathe and notice your breath hasten in perfect tune with your body’s state of arousal.  And best of all, I see, hear and live vicariously your blissful climax.  It is just so perfectly done that soon a big, all knowing smile crosses your face, telling me what I already know: it feels damn good to come for your Master. 

“Now, play with your tits.  I want them hard and firm and needy.  Work them until you need my mouth on your nipples, sucking without mercy.  We both know one orgasm will never suffice.”  And you work them seductively, kneading them like dough that will ultimately leave the oven warm and delicious.  I know how good they taste from past experience, when I have caressed, kissed, licked and sucked your beautiful boobs.   And I need to do it once again.  “Fuck to hell real life limits!  Those boobs are mine, if only for today,” I tell myself.

I transition my thoughts from tits to pussy and fixate on the way your pussy becomes wet so freely and so generously.  I think back to the only previous time I tasted your come.  It was incredibly delicious, an experience I know must be repeated.  I slip on a condom and mount you, while carefully avoiding penetration.  Our naked bodies fuse into one, as I slide up and down your body with a sensual body-to-body massage.  My mouth lands on first one, then the other nipple, sucking you hard until you get close to having a titty-gasm.  My intimate friend can come this way, so I know how much fun it can be facilitating a boob release; but I decide to back off, and instead, gently slide down your body, leaving behind a trail of tender, loving kisses. 

At journey’s end, I slowly and gently part your lips and shower your most intimate parts with light wet kisses.  More firmly, I circle your outer lips and then your inner lips with my moist tongue before finding your love button.  I circle your clit faster and faster until I feel it firm and eager under my administrations.  I move down and tongue fuck your pussy.  You gush and I savor the deliciousness of your juices.  “God, you taste good!”  And before long, you come again; this time, much harder than before. 

You say, “That was the best ever.”  And that makes ME proud as a peacock, so I silently thank you for feeding my ego.

Once again, I mount you, our bodies fully connecting without penetration.  You say, “We fucked during my b2b massage.  We weren’t supposed to do that, but I have to admit, it felt good.”

“Bullshit, we did not fuck.”

“Yes, we did.  The tip of your dick touched my pussy hole.”

“That is not fucking.”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it isn’t!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it isn’t!”

Rather than argue about this for what could potentially be years to come, I decide to end the debate.  Without warning, I suddenly plunge my cock deep into your cunt.  Your eyes pop wide open with surprise.  We lie still while I dissect the startled look on your face.  I wonder, “Are you okay?  Glad it finally happened?  In Shock?  Royally pissed?”  Still, your face keeps your secrets and provides me no clue.  Do you get retribution by  refusing to reveal yourself?

After an overly long and uncomfortable pause, it becomes clear that I will not receive the benefit of feedback.  I begin to slowly undulate my hips in the hope you will follow suit.  Initially, there is no reaction, but soon, a sly smile crosses your lips and your hips dance slowly in harmony with mine.  For now, we are one, physically, and I pray, emotionally.  In a mutual, unspoken desire to prolong our dance, we move slow and easy, gradually increasing pace only as our bodies demand.  Then, driven by intense passion and lust, we ravish each other as our pleasure mounts and our orgasms reach that long, slow, wonderful period of inevitability, followed by the full manifestation of our feelings for each other. 

Afterwards, lying contentedly in each others' arms, we remain silent and deep in thought.  Did we fuck or make love?  Or both?  When will it happen again?  When will we even see each other again?  Neither of us know the answers.