Wednesday, 30 November 2016

The now of now (the kiss)

A content note: this fragment has neither specific kinks nor overt female dominance/male submission dynamic in it (or does it? - comments welcome ;) but just happens to be the bit of writing I'm tweaking now. For the basorexic among you. 


I'm walking off the ferry. Strangely untired albeit dirty and sweaty in my entirely inappropriate clothes though it might be just nervous energy. I hope you've got the text. I'm looking around as I approach the terminal building. It's almost dead, though lit up. But everything pretty much closed. It's not normal time for boats to arrive.  I look around. Not quite sure what I'm looking for until I see you, just outside the terminal, a tall figure in a green shirt.
My mouth stretches in a big smile, a mixture of terror, joy and disbelief overriding the tiredness and daze of the whole journey. My heart is pounding, I can't quite believe it's happening. I get closer, and still can't believe it. Fucking hell. You are here, and it seems less believable than anything that has occurred so far. Less believable than a ferry that's travelled from dream-displaced Dover to the west coast of Greece, crewed by apparitions of people from my past.
You get closer, I hear a low whisper of a curse, then a louder greeting, “Holy shit. Hi, M.”

“Hello.” This seems completely inadequate. “J?”
You are breathing fast, staring at me with a nervous smirk, giggling a little, seeming a bit giddy. You make a move as if you wanted to grab me but were stopping yourself from doing so.

I'm still smiling. But it’s a smaller smile. I wonder if you know what I want to do now. My smile is gone, lips a little ajar.  You can probably hear my breathing. I'm close enough to see your eyes even in the unreliable light here. You blink a few times. Then stop blinking, completely and we are in a full eye contact. Your smile vanishes.  

“May I?”

I don't reply at first, but touch your face. That gesture, that thing I have done so many times in so many different stories. Gently. Just fingers on your left cheek. Tracing the cheekbone and the jaw. Fingertips only. Slowly. Then my full palm on your cheek, thumb running along your lips. I answer.

“Yes.”

You have no idea how many times I thought of that. How many times I imagined it. The meeting. The first touch. Or maybe you do, maybe you have been doing the same, maybe you are as shocked by the now of now as I am because you don’t take your eyes off me and they are begging. You sigh, lean forward, trembling, and let your lips gently land on mine.

I anchor your shivering. “Hi.”

I'm shaking too. I might die here. Or burst out laughing. Or just grab you and pull you closer. “That would be allright,” you murmur and I am not sure if you are really saying it, thinking it to me or I’m imagining it. I suspect it doesn’t matter. I pull your head down to the crook of my neck, my fingers in your hair, my breath somewhere in the region of your ear. You moan, an erection growing against my hip.

"You're here, boy." Your fingers slide on my wrists, “Yea. Yes I am, M.” I kiss your neck. Just under your earlobe and down, my right hand in contact with yours, the left one still on the back of your head. “I swear I might just die,” you whisper, your right hand slips around my waist.

I'm almost panting, my hands on your butt, pulling you closer.  I kiss you on the lips, quickly. First in the middle, withdrawing before they part, then in the corner. Left side. You gasp briefly. The touch of my lips is light but I am not moving away. Then a lick, just a tip of my tongue. You stay completely still, almost unnaturally, as if you were struggling against yourself not to kiss me back. “Still, boy.” You moan a little, “Yours, M. Yours. I'm yours.”

I pull your head away, want to see your face, your eyes. Then kiss you fully. Open lips, tongue sliding between yours (horrible breath probably unless we engage magic powers here and why the fuck not). Your eyes shut automatically.  Taking in my kiss. My tongue under your upper lip. Then teeth grazing the lower one.  Voracious yet slow. Your tongue meets mine, swirling slowly, patiently somehow.

Yes

Yes.


My eyes back open, your hand moves up. I let you touch my hair and the back of my neck briefly. Then move your hand back round my shoulder. Eyes closed, I feel you with my mouth. Gentle bites now and then. Holding your lip between my teeth, touching it with my tongue.
Yes

Yes.

Yes

Everything else is gone. I'm holding your head between my hands now and just tasting you, kissing you, licking you slowly. “It's all gone,” I hear, or sense in my mind again, the same strange voice I can’t identify even as I am sure it’s coming from you.

I want to bite your lip harder but I'm stopping myself. I want you so much that it almost doesn't matter what else is going to happen. It's all good. It's herenow. It's happening.

“This is pretty surreal.”

“Yes,” your lip between my teeth.

“Just. You. Me. Here, together,”  my hands on your face.

It’s happening in the now of now.

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