Molly’s Diary: He will win

The last time I saw him he counted the buttons on my dress. Leaning across a table in a busy restaurant while our companions waited patiently he slid his hands under the fabric to pull it away from my body and I tried to breathe slowly and evenly as the air brushed my skin and his hands did not.

Half a year later I will see him again. “Bring your femme,” he growls into my voicemail. “I may sully you.” This is followed by “Wear a skirt. It’s … easier.” The pause is agony because in it is all the pent up desire that has built for months and yet there are 28 more hours left before his voice will be more than digital signals. There is yet more than a full day before the words will be made flesh.

This is the man who brings lingerie for us to try on. This is the radical faerie who fantasizes about my kisses and has never yet fucked me. This is the one whose cock, wrapped in pearls, graces these pages, and this is the one whose kinship I need and whose clan I knew I belonged to long before the day, a decade ago, when we met at a party where he watched me cause a scene with a crazy beautiful boy in a gold dress and a purple pixie wig.

I imagine meeting him in the hotel bar. He will text me his room number when he checks in but I imagine arriving and texting him from downstairs. I imagine the tug-of-war beginning that way and continuing as we challenge one another for power throughout the evening.

He will win.

I want it that way.

~ by Molly Montrevoir on February 11, 2009.

4 Responses to “Molly’s Diary: He will win”

  1. Moment planned door opened fisted lapels with a shhh I pulled her into the dark room and closing the door pushed her back to the wall. Leaning slowly forward into her pressing my urgent hips against hers I held back the sacred kiss, knowing that we finally had time I held back just a moments thought away breathing her breath and knowing her need was fierce too. Forcing her along still standing I held back my lips feeling what I wanted, wanting what we felt. Lips met legs sliding between and against each other and again, again, again as one we kissed across the wall slipping into the corner, room dark the shower going in the background to cover our gasps and soft grunts of need. Pulled her coat down and down until elbows were locked in the cloth then taking again running my hands across her flank and back onto her swell over and over my cock aching, beginning to drool for need. It took years to get here and we weren’t going to stop this kiss this endless lost kiss of wanton connection. Coat dropped my hands joining hers sliding into our clothes, another still quiet shhh coming from me as we slid further into the corner licking at each others mouths doggish kisses laughing in heat in the dark womb of a cheap airport hotel. Her clothes hadn’t come off and innocent yet I pulled her into blackness of the dark room knowing the measured three steps to the bed then pushing her back and backward she laughed as my strength met her joy and she tripped back with a fast unknown gasp back falling onto the mattress with me fast pounced onto willing flesh of a lover left in need on the street with no recourse but this sometime meeting mouths meeting fingers sliding again for a while, an hour, a year missed never made up for now but found in each other. Growling animals clothed in night we rolled akimbo swirling into cascades of licks and sniffing angles, angels wings spread bitten flesh wounded loves marked skin asking harder, more, still quiet we writhed again and again. Stripping in the dark while wearing requested virgins sacrifice garments she was suddenly over me sitting backlit shadow of goddess astride my legs pulling up and off the blouse and then the skirt and then the hose to lay against in fleshes skinned union of melt we fell, graced and blessed we fell there and knowing I spoke. “May we say what we will tonight but at first light the spell is broken, no matter that we will always know our voice ends then – until this night arrives again. Are we met?” She breathed a darklit answer as soft as starlight, “Yes.”

    As one we became. I lay her back arms out and in the dark put one full glass into each hand. “Don’t spill any or I’ll stop, now Shhhh.” My tongue started at her knees slowly softly ever softly moving down and again until her breathing was gasped then to her hair and parting her simply felt her with the heat of my tongue not quite touching and wetting one finger slid in roughly as my tongue slid the first time soft and wide again doglike not quite really touching her inner self. Finger crooked I found her inner pulse, a secret known to few and made her feel it, time and again, time and again until my lips, my mouth would simply not wait to finally taste her essence. Soft licks never hard went again and sucking at her began both finding her pulse as each tongue slide became a universe unto itself. She felt me then, knowing me, knowing her as her clasp began to form again twitched and spasmed pulsed and repeated my mouth feeding on her pleasure my arousal soaring with the power of her flavor and breath. “Don’t spill any now, really, I mean it, not a drop or I’ll make you leave.” Her breath paused asking quiet if I was sincere. “Yes darling, I mean it. Do what you want but do not move. Do not move at all, not even your hips. Stay relaxed and breathe.” My mouth returned to her forever, soft long licks now starting very low and topping with a slow flick to find her pulse again and again. Then sucking her inside my mouth my one finger began to finally move gently as her cock slid into and out of my mouth, my pursed lips pussied for her finger guided thrusts. She finally moved without reason, needing it, needing something she had come for something she knew I had. I forgave her as it happened knowing I would, I could not let her go, I still had something for her, something that men and women did when they were together. Something I would allow but only if she hadn’t spilled anything from the glasses. I finally stopped – pressing my warm palm across her join, kneeling up and bring on the light I looked at my angel akimbo and reaching out took the still full glasses from her now still arms. “Good girl, you are such a good girl. Come up into my arms and put your head on my shoulder we have to talk about something important, something I have wanted to say to you since our eyes first met.”

    Next, the shower room.

  2. The kiss still lingers weeks later as I touch my shaft remembering the moment I grabbed her hand and pulled insistently off the bed mourning our loss of smooth cloth while anticipating my toilet. Kissing and groping into the steam I take her hair and wrap a towel to protect it’s long silken mass from too much moisture. I whisper, “Wrap it around to keep the liquid off.” She does it in the dim not quite light behind close wrapped shadows of steam. Arms slid around skin standing sliding the bards true un/holy kiss leaned toward hot arousing moisture of the tiled wall. Chested together twirled slow we fall against the steamy wall against the stainless grab bars hands forced down to support her I again turn her away making her back face me I step away. “Hold firm baby, I’ve got something here for you, now be still and spread ‘em” My cock is aching, I’ve been drinking water steadily for the last four hours and my bladder is simply too full to last any longer. I’d planned to do this right after kissing her at the door but failed the moment our lips touched. It’s been an hour since that kiss and now I’m in need and grasping my shaft the first long spurt of hot salty liquid sprays across her back running down her already dripping skin. She gasps, thoughts unknown yet stays still and doesn’t move away. The shower spray above allows for filth and clean at the same time, hot piss joining the shower spray to degrade and refresh a lust of the now – a Zen koan of arousal. I moan, repeated sliding my slippery hand over my piss spraying hard-on. “Mine, I mark you as mine like I told you I would. Like a boy in a bathhouse. Now touch yourself down there, don’t waste this moment it will pass too quickly and I’ve been waiting a long time to do this.” Now dripping waterfalled ass arched back to my streaming heat I spend some time covering her and then growl a bit. “Turn around and face it, that’s right, turn and give it to me.” She turns wildly, hands re-gripped on the bars and spreading her thighs stands proud, high points firm and smiling, leaning back in perfect saucy form against the slippery tile again as I wash my piss stream across her tits and then down lower, lower even than I thought I should and she gasps softly as I slide the hot salty liquid across her there and there again covering her in me. Drained, I lean forward and lick at her front one long lick from there up to her unsullied and wanton lips. Standing in a shower holding someone who is covered in fresh warm piss while feeling hot streaming shower in a swirl steam cloaked fog becomes a world singular to itself – a place of perfect wild fuck focus shared by only those who are there.

  3. I remember of you and feel again a sense of touch returning shapes and texture of our warm flexings. What are we to each other? Language missing fleet abject nouns and tenuous verbs gently recapturing the thing itself. Yet I seek and again to remember with my heart that moment as my breath disappeared into you and we became what we were what we are who we will be again if wanderings permit. I mumble over us, gums rolling ears echoed again and again eyes closed bright sight, mouth full of you. Echo’s promise is known by me reconsonant truth gasping for breath as night taken we were. Miss you more surfing by and still, still my heart wants my flesh wants to simply touch your soft flank again in wonder. Fading moments clear in darkness pose unkind loss of realities throbbing heart. Wistful remnant fogged lust stains thoughts with memories unbidden but welcome of one night, one night unknown, hidden in flesh alone.

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