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| Blogs > rm_johntaylor74 > On the great voyage home |
Part 3 - pinics, lakes, and parking lots, oh my....
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Part 3 - pinics, lakes, and parking lots, oh my.... As we got back, everyone was clearing up to go, and I had this immense sense of happiness and salvation overtake me, but was careful to only display a feeling of "c'est la vie" at the ending of this part of the day. My mind began to visit thoughts of the evening, and time for just the two of us... or, so I had thought. We walked back through the island towards the ferry, everyone in a playful mood and acting generally silly. She and I stole glances at each other throughout, of the moments that had just transpired, and also of the day so far, the memories that had been brought back, and the memories we still wanted to create... Happy that I had come to see her, she was especially playful, and caring towards me. She had a way about her when she felt like it, as a mother lion caring for her cubs. She could be so warm, so gentle, so incredibly loving at times, that you would lose yourself in those moments, give her your heart, your soul... ignoring all the warnings she had given you in the past to not fall in love. She didn't ask for it, or expect anything from you, she was almost doing those things as a moment for her where she could reach out and comfort others, and yet make herself feel better as well. The inside of the ferry had no ventilation, even with the doors open. The air was muggy and dead, and she could see the toll it was exacting from me, and leaned into my chest, brushing the hair from my face with her free hand, and blowing a breeze toward me to help cool me down. She motioned to me that she was going to let go of my hand for a moment, and upon doing so, took a quick step towards her mum, said a few words, and then quickly came back to me and held my hand again. It was like letting go of a 's hand and hoping they don't get upset that you're leaving them for a moment. It was a sweet thing, not exactly anything I would ever allow anyone else to do, but something I so loved from her. It was that difference in love that you didn't always have with others. There was an openness, an honesty, and hence a vulnerability you allowed yourself to show, that you would never allow yourself to show another lover. As we departed the ferry, the group started dispersing, and she handed me everything she had been carrying, piling each new thing on top of the other, and then got more stuff from her family to dump on me. I stood there looking like the rookie Sherpa who had the crappiest task of all, to act as pact mule for the rest of the group. She said her goodbyes, and began offloading some of the bits and pieces she had just heaped onto me. Down to a manageable amount, I began walking towards the street to get to the car, but she stopped me, her hand on my shoulder, wanting me to wait as her family turned the corner and disappeared, then turned to me with a mischievous, very -like look in her eyes... and began just tickling me. My arms full of things that I could not drop, I could only dodge and weave as she easily caught me and got under my defences. It was the type of thing we would have done to each other as . And maybe that was why I loved her so, there was so much to what we felt, so much more than just two people in a male-female relationship. She h ad described me as a lover, a brother, a father, a , a mentor, a student... everything encapsulated in every moment, and meaning so much to each other. But in that was the strange separation of our relationship — the different weight we wanted each aspect to have. I wanted first to be her lover, and then all the rest as the support and facilitation of the relationship, and the help for her to reach her own personal dreams. She wanted the others to be first, and the lover to be just a nice bonus. To her lovers could be had anywhere, it was the other aspects that one desperately searched for in life and wanted to hold onto forever. It was that difference that kept us apart, and yet together, in a tortured confused way. It would eventually all fall apart as one could only expect, but for these few moments — before, after, and that day in particular, we had a bond that felt unshakeable, no matter how each of us saw or felt that bond to be. As we got out onto the street, the first thing we were hit with was the smell of sausage, from one of the street side vendors. Knowing she was hungry, I motioned to her and asked if she wanted one, to which she replied, "I'd rather have yours instead". After the childlike moments from a second ago, I felt as innocent as a at the first blush of love. I often wondered if that was not part of why long-together couples had such complaints about the boredom of their sexual relationship, that they failed to see the awe & wonder in it, that they failed to take a step back in time and reclaim their innocence, and remember how it felt, how every sense was alive when they were just young and in love. Walking on a little further, we passed a seafood place sitting right on the dock, and I started directing her with my shoulder to go in. Oysters you see, made her incredibly horny... not that she needed any more encouragement at the moment, but it would help keep up that feeling in her even longer. She resisted the temptation and pushed me away, scolding me for seducing her like that. "You know what oysters do to me." To which I replied, "Sweetie, that is the general idea." "Yes, but making me feel like that when we can't even act upon it would drive me crazy." I looked at her quizzically, and then she realized that either I had forgotten or she had forgotten to tell me, that while we were spending tonight together, it wasn't alone. We were going to a party at one of her friends (the bisexual one who was actually in love with her — and I you not, this was the absolute truth). One of those types of friends who most people would get rid of. Who sucked up all your free time, brought up feelings that were destructive in nature, but satisfied your co-dependency such that you let them do all those rotten things to you and distance you from everybody else. I fought hard not to say anything, even though it would have been better if I did. My own weakness at wanting to be accommodating and generous in spirit wouldn't let me express my own true feelings in the matter. My essence as the helper was always in jeopardy at these moments... if I didn't say anything, it would foster other moments where progressively worse things were asked of me, and I would accept them without protest, ever building up a resentment within me, at her, and myself. It wasn't the favour requested of me that was a problem (I loved helping others, being there for them, it was my own emotional nourishment), but the resulting distance it put between you and the requester. It made your feelings expendable and hence less and less considered in other circumstances. By being that nice, you were creating a selfishness in the other person, so they could and would take advantage of you whenever they felt like it without considering you at all. Sensing that growing distance within me, she leaned in and kissed me shoulder through my shirt, then rolled up the sleeve and kissed the length of my arm. A smile pushed its way across my face and emptied my mind of the dark thoughts, and in that moment of her making that consideration of me, I realized that I had made up a whole problem in my head that could have so easily happened, instead of just saying how I really felt and having enough of a sense of emotional courage to just ask for her understanding and her love in that moment. My car was parked in a lot by the lake, so a sticky, yet somewhat cooling breeze came off the lake to blow our hair around, pasting the long strands on the sweat of our brows. As I carefully stroked the locks from her eyes, a fortunate moment for me occurred. Two gino boys were strutting around the parking lot making stereotyped rude remarks about how they should be treating women... and how women should be treating them. She just looked at me, sized me up for a moment, and smiled a mischievous yet proud smile. And then began to give me my reward for not being like that. She leaned back against my car, drawing me to her, playing with my the hem on my shirt, stroking my arms, then pulling my shirt up so she stroke my chest and shoulders, play with my chest hair, teasing my nipples, the warmth and sweat of her hands on my chest, and then she would blow a cool breeze on my nipples, first quickly sucking at them. It was probably the one universal thing any woman could do to me to get my attention, putting her palms flat on my chest. I know the psychological reasons behind it, but needn't tell you more than simply how much I loved that feeling. But she didn't stop there. Leaning in to kiss my chest, she slid her right hand down my chest and cupped my cock and balls, stroking them now, squeezing them gently, all the while, smiling mischievously up at me. "There now, that is what I wanted to see," she said matter-of-factly. "That's the sausage I want to take a bite out of." She rubbed me for awhile longer, alternating between a soft sweet touch, that sent chills through my body, leaving the tiny hairs standing on end; and squeezing as if she was kneading bread. My cock throbbed madly, so much so that my eyes began to<b> glaze </font></b>over and I lost all other thought but wanting to feel her warms hands playing with the thick veins of my cock. Wanting to have my penis fully nestle between the soft, smooth flesh of her wonderful breasts. The breasts which she now teased me with, tracing up and down the length of my shaft with her nipples, and then giving the head of my cock a quick kiss. And with that she walked away to the other side of the car and got in. Leaving me standing there looking oh so silly, shirt pushed up to my shoulders, erection straining against the tight fabric of my jeans, a bewildered look in my eyes. She peered through the window and asked me if I was coming. Then started laughing. Taking a moment to compose myself, I looked around to see if anyone had been watching and I needed to make a nonchalant check of myself to just directly put everything back in place and get into the car. I tucked my shirt back in my pants, and rearranged my penis and testicles so I wouldn't do myself a damage when I got in the car. As I started the engine, she leaned across and put her head in my lap, the fingers of her right hand, teasingly tracing softly up and down the full length of my shaft, circling around the head with the lightest touch possible, but with just enough contact to have my breathing go shallow. I reached down to stroke her back, and rub her shoulders. She had once described my hands as having a healing touch. As I began to work the tension resting like knots in the thick sinews of her back, she looked up at me. Her eyes had that look in them that made me forget everything else, every other thing I was supposed to worry about, every other task I was supposed to do... all that responsibility, all that obligation, the boring crap that made you seem upstanding in the community but drove you crazy as it stole the passion from your soul... all of that gone now, with that look in her eyes, and I just wanted to give back to her and make her feel intense moments of pleasure right now... to give to her a moment that she could look back on and separate from all the others... She turned in her seat, her back facing me, and I leaned forward, the palms of my hands fully stroking across her back and shoulders, massaging deeply, caressing, teasing, down her sides now, tickling her ribs, her hips, moving forward to her stomach, and up to her breasts. Great handfuls in my palms now, my fingers squeezing gently at first, then teasing underneath the heavy masses that were her gorgeous breasts, circling all around, rubbing the warm soft flesh, above and below, and in between, circling inward on each breast toward her nipples. I leaned my head in now to nuzzle at her left ear, nipping and sucking at her lobes, her hair fell loosely from her ponytail and tickled my lips. I could feel the rise and fall of her body against me as her breathing heightened. I squeezed her breasts hard now, drawing her toward me, so I could ravage her neck and ears through the soft hair that fallen around her shoulders, it's scent enticing me and yet centring me as I pushed forward, unbuttoning her shirt enough so I could slip my hands underneath her singlet and play with her bare breasts, the first touch of the tips of my fingers sending her nipples erect and creating an involuntary cry from within her. I could see the chill flowing through her body like a sonic wave, the soft, tiny hairs standing on end and waiting for each new sensation, her whole body writhing now, waiting, wanting, wondering what was to come. My own erection now raged hard and I wanted to feel the pressure of her body against me, against my throbbing member. Slipping my arms underneath hers I lifted her out of her seat and dragged her onto me. I reached down and tipped the seat back to give her room to fit in between myself and the steering wheel, then leaned her back against it and began nursing at her nipples. Stopping and admiring my work, I looked up into her eyes, and her entreaties not to stop, and went back to my squeezing and massaging her warm, impressive mounds of flesh, and licking and sucking, her hips spasming whenever I used my chin to push into her breasts, and rubbing her sweet snatch against my cock, which was now soaking my pants in precum. I could smell the scent of sex in the air from both of us and it drove our lust forward, almost blindingly. So badly, that we now didn't care about the two ginos who had circled back and were now desperately trying to watch and get a glimpse of something, anything... but even in those moments to be lost in, I almost instinctively protected her virtue, keeping her shirt pulled forward to hide what I was doing from prying eyes... But, it wasn't the ginos that ended up preventing us from continuing, it was the police car that had wandered into the parking lot, and come to investigate why these two ginos had been trying to peek into cars. We saw the police car stop and an officer emerge and approach the ginos. I quickly pulled her singlet back down into place, and began buttoning up her shirt. As she hurried to get back into the seat, she got caught on the centre tunnel of the driveline housing — a loose thread from her untucked shirt had looped and become stuck on the parking brake. I quickly reached under and lifted her up, almost throwing her back into the seat. She looked and smiled at me, laughing at my caveman like roughness with her in that moment. The cop approached our car and had to crouch to see into the windows of the low slung sports car, giving us that extra moment to come up with something plausible. Asking if everything was okay I motioned over to her, and did the guy camaraderie with the cop, "We couldn't go until she had her make-up on just right." He laughed and nodded, saying that he knows what that's like. Patting the roof of the car, he nodded in approval and gave me his best cliched salutation, and motioned for us to continue having a nice day. I turned to her with an apologetic smile and she shook her head with a response of understanding and that it was okay, whatever was needed to get us out of there without problems. As we drove away, the smell of warm leather wafted through the car from the seats, the door handles, the buttery soft leather that encased the shifter and its boot (which she always joked about wanting to mount herself on), and she caressed and cuddled herself in the warmth of the deep seat back, and enjoyed each of her senses as she let the sun's rays caress her.  |
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