Under the Canopy of the Universe

She ended things on my birthday.

She said we couldn’t be together. She said that she needed to protect herself. She said that she needed to be strong.

In the pause where she glanced down at her muscles, I said that the world is telling you to be strong. I said that this is not you, not honestly. I said, with tears streaming down my cheeks, we have only begun. I want you. And I know you want me.

Still, she turned around and walked away with me cradling the presents she had so thoughtfully gathered for this, my birthday.

Two weeks later and we had agreed to meet at the park. We walked the perimeter of the grass and talked. Begged. Cried. Disagreed. We sat on steps, on benches, and finally in her car.

She said we couldn’t be together. She said that she needed to protect herself. She said that she needed to be strong.

In the pause where she glanced down at her muscles in the half-light she said, let’s go.

Feeling this as an end to everything, sharp with corners, I replied with a tilt of the head and the squeeze of death on my lungs. And as the air leaked from my chest, she said, no. Let’s go. You and me. Up and into the mountains. Now.

I did not know what this meant. But I knew that it was laced like fingers into the hand of hope.

With darkness falling, we raced to her house and collected blankets and sleeping bags and pillows. My heart began to swell. We sped up and into the dark hills. I could feel her rigidity. But still, into the night we went, taking turns that neither of us had before. Here we were working together again. Again. As a team. Seeking and exploring with the intensity and passion that drew us into one another in the beginning.

Alas we found a dead-end road at the top of a valley. We opened the back of her car and made a bed inside.

She said, shhh. Let’s not bring any of the outside world, inside, here. Just lay here. You and me. And so we did, as if we had never before. As though we were strangers and timid. As thought we had never touched the lips of another.

Slowly her hand made its way to mine. And for the first time in a near lifetime – we touched. Her skin on mine was like a flavor exploding on my tongue. It spread like it had wings and flew through my entire body, filling me with edgy pangs of heat in the high mountain night.

Often people talk of this sensation as though it is a melting. And while there was a component of heat within all of it – I remember the sensation of ballooning rather than liquefying. Power that I hadn’t seen in weeks enlarged my entire soul; opened my eyes.

Alas, I wanted life. I wanted air.

Again, I started to breathe.

My lungs expanded, retaining a voluminous amount of feminine atmosphere and the stars alike. Orion hung in the cosmic balance above us, his great sword dangling between his legs.

Quietly and without any ritual, we slid into one another: finger pad to pad to palm to wrist to forearm and upward to that warm crevice where closed arms meet the chest. I rolled up and onto my arm and for the first time,

I touched her neck. That wondrous place that, throughout our conversations of the day, I had been incessantly drawn to. My fingers traced the lines up and into her jaw, where I continued my illustration up and behind her ear. Slipping back and behind her lobe, I cupped her head and she turned toward me, now opening her eyes.

With the clean white light bouncing off the moon 238,000 miles away, I kissed the girl.

And she kissed me back.

Both of her hands enveloped me, pressing me closer.

And in a few short seconds our dance graduated from an elegant ballet to a feral tribal dance around the fire of love and lust and two bodies drawn together with that kind of wondrous cosmic magnetism – that kind which makes a man want to live longer and harder and with more force.

As though we were both falling backwards into the pull of some other gravitational body, we clutched at the other’s clothes – twisting and tugging. In this, clothing was better than skin. It could be contorted and even torn. And in the end it was a frenetic expression of our desire for one another.

Rolling over and onto her, my hands ran up and down her torso kneeding and digging deeper into her. I bit at her neck. Not once, nor even twice. I wanted to leave my mark.

More than taste her sex, I wanted to crawl straight through her. This is how I wanted to devour her. Wholly and completely. Straight. Through her.

We kissed and whimpered and moaned with our mouths open. Her breathing in my ear spoke of love more than words could outline.

Several minutes later and she spoke the only words we shared laying there. She said, your intensity is intoxicating.

That night I fell asleep under the open canopy of the world above me. My body, pulsing with the elegance of the entire universe.

In the morning we woke and in all unreality, drove down from the mountains.

Fear coursed behind my sternum and made my mouth dry. Away from the starry, hopeful night we were back in reality – a reality where no promises had been made. By no degree was I certain that we were going to unite, back together. Again I felt her standing on the other side of a wall from me.

Then she said, we should go to the house.

Immediately tears began loping from my eyes, down and into my hands. I hadn’t been to the house that we lived in for several weeks now. She said that she moved the bed. Rearranged the bedroom.

With vertigo ringing in my ears, we pulled-up to the house. We went inside. To the bedroom straight-away. The half of the closet where my clothes once hung – was still empty.

She laid on the bed. And I, beside her, breathing quietly. Waiting for words.

Then, she exhaled a voluptuous erotic breath. It was one of longing and waiting and, more than that, needing.

I leaned into her and then, all of our shared elegance disappeared. We simply tore into each other, beginning where we left-off last night with every kiss foreign and beautiful as though this was the first time of ever quenching our lifetimes of thirst.

In the rush of it all, I ripped myself away and dropped to the floor in front of the bed. Before she could deny me – I flipped up her skirt. Kissing her thighs, kneeding them with my hands and simultaneously taking mouthfuls of her in-between my teeth, I moved closer into her midsection.

And she reigned me in by the hair.

Sliding my hands under her ass, I pushed her up and open so that I could crawl as far as I could, inside of her. I teased her thighs still, morphing my tongue into shapes of knives and then, alternately pillowy paint brushes. Then, came the scent of her wetness.

With one hand I slid my outstretched fingers up her torso. With the other, I opened her lips and began my tongue’s dance around her clit. With long, soft licks I slid up and down her hot, wet crease. From the top of her clit to her bottom I pressed into her as she bucked back into me.

I slipped one finger inside of her as I moved up to increase my pace on her clit. I wrapped my whole mouth around her lips and began sucking on her. Slowly at first, her hips pressed even harder into me, and then away – swaying she was now.

Intoxicated by it all I slipped another finger into her and moved with the rhythm that her whole body now dictated. Dancing we were – with my other hand kneeding her nipple and cupping her breast; squeezing and pressing we melted into one fluid union as we swung back and forth in time with the solar winds.

But it wasn’t separate entities at work, here. No, my whole upper body pressed into her. Even my arms caressed her hips and stomach on their way up to reach her heaving chest. I even reached further upwards and clutched her sinewy neck. To which she replied by heaving even more, breathing even harder.

Ferociously I pulled my mouth away and went again for her thighs, my thumb now sliding up to encircle her engorged clit. Our pace intensified and once I was done devouring her meaty parts, I moved back in and lapped hotly at her whole slit.

My whole being – fingers and hands and mouth and even my shoulders that were propping-up her legs eloquently sang in concert with her whole being.

I opened her up and slid my tongue as far as I could reach inside, alternately sucking on her lips on my way out and back inside her. Then, sliding three fingers deep inside her and with a strong twisting grip on one of her nipples, I went back for her clit.

Like a spring her hands found the back of my head, pulling me into her. And with several notable and great heaves forward, she bounced upward, clutching me.

She was coming.

Several heaves and seizures later and I slowly decreased my intensity on her clit, finally pulling completely away from her and kissing both of her thighs in my retreat.

When I layed next to her, and after she caught her breath, she said that was only the second time she’d orgasmed from oral sex in her whole life.

I smiled and kissed her sweetly and longingly on her swollen mouth. And she kissed me back. Holding my head in her hands she said that I should maybe consider bringing my clothes back over. Back home.

Alas, back home.

~ by The Provocateur on June 6, 2007.