I wanted her the moment I saw her, wanted her so badly I didn't even feel bad about it, not at first at least. Not just in the physical sense, I wanted to possess her, to be the only person allowed to say, "She's mine." I don't know how we ended up beside each other, but I remember her first, "Hey," and that brilliant smile with a clarity that will never fade. It is the rock upon which my church is built - unshifting and impervious.
We spent those first days just making each other laugh. I love her voice, but her laugh is something special. It shoves back the dark corners of my mind with its brilliant glow. Maybe she exaggerates it for my benefit, providing a lilting succession of uplifting phonemes when a more subdued chuckle would be apt, but if it's something she's eager to provide, I'll take all I can get.
Obsession plays no game fairly; it's really just a nice word for addiction. As we unraveled our lives to each other, we tangled ourselves together, always shoulder to shoulder, not caring if anyone noticed that we looked like two awkward, horny teenagers.
Pain is directly proportional to distance times time. I barely survived the evenings when we were apart, constant communication my only lifeline. Silly pictures that captured our lives, like the time we unwittingly had the same breakfast, made the day bearable. We were gleefully addicted to each other.
For me, it was wonderful and terrible. Life at home was awful, and no matter how genuine my feelings, I was using her to escape. It wasn't fair to her, and I didn't know when my situation would change, so I backed away.
The despair was instant and incessant. No matter where I directed my thoughts, her face was there waiting - the perfect drug. I raged at my life, and in that rage I found the power to change it. I shattered everything around me, picked up the shards I valued, and escaped my prison of mirrors.
"It's over. I need to be with you." As soon as I pressed send I was full of the worst terror I've ever felt. Doubt sat heavily on me while fear mocked me. My heart pounded in my chest, and I cursed myself for making a terrible mistake until I received a response after a time that felt like an eternity but was probably best measured in seconds.
Her response was simple and perfect, like disinfectant sunlight. "When?" My life floated upwards, suddenly relieved of the steady burden that had strained my heart and my hope.
"Tomorrow?"
"You don't ever have to ask."
Tomorrow was beautiful and new, with a delicious core of familiarity. The person I needed most had been returned to me, and I did my best to suffocate her with attention and affection. Moments of honesty brought new bonds, stronger than the old, forged on the altar of knick knacks I could never give her, nestled on a shelf beside my bed. We snatched every opportunity to be close, but our reservoirs of need couldn't be drained by simple proximity.
The day after that, and every feasible subsequent day, I had her for lunch. The sweet taste of her that accompanied each moan and scream was life-giving nectar, and I poured her messily down my throat, never sated and always thrilled with the opportunity for lustful gluttony.
When she was limp from being devoured, I took her like I wanted, deeply, slowly, but not for my sake. "Come for me," I told her as I filled her, and she did, as rapidly and repeatedly as her body and mind could muster, glorious each time, but never enough. "Come for me," and she shook and wailed in my grasp, sweat, tears, and pussy soaking us both. "Come for me," I begged, never caring about anything but her ecstacy, terrified of what might happen when it ended.
Addiction is never static. Chasing that dragon is how we ended up in a sex shop. I knew what I wanted as soon as we went inside. Sure, the sign said they were for covering your lover in homemade, organic, preservative-free whipped cream, but the need for a middleman was just an illusion.
Box in one hand, joined together with the other, we wandered the store. Lingerie didn't interest us; she's best served naked, and we rarely had the time or patience to unravel something wound around her. She stroked a pair of handcuffs coated with shaggy fur wistfully, but they were quickly annotated with, "next time," and a side eye that made blatant promises. Toys of all sorts were momentarily entertaining, but it's my job to pleasure her, and I know best how to use my own tools.
I thought we'd exhausted the possibilities when she stopped in front of a display I never thought would interest her. I watched her hands tremble slightly as she pulled two things from the display - a small bottle of warming lube, and a butt plug barely larger than one of her fingers. I couldn't help but see the large, jovial graphic announcing that batteries were indeed included.
She led me to the counter and then to my car, never relinquishing her grip on my hand until we got there. Seated and on the road, she grabbed my hand again and shoved it under her skirt and into her panties. It's my job to make her feel good, and I love my work. A seat belt and bucket seats held her hips still as I found my way inside her. I couldn't concentrate at first, too worried about driving and dying to give her the attention she deserved. In everything, there must be balance, and eventually I found it. She squirmed on my hand, rising and falling, moaning and whimpering while I directed just enough attention to the wheel to keep us between the lines. She's always glorious when she comes. I love her voice.
I was trying to remember how to drive with two hands when those plans got delayed. My goddess bathed me with her tongue, pulling her remnants from my fingers, nectar too divine for mortal men who have not earned it with proper worship - high praise from one so holy. My face told her I understood the favor bestowed upon me. We ran out of freedom around then; somehow life sucked the life out of us.
Stolen moments fueled us and allowed us to proceed about our daily chores like automatons until our timelines next intersected. When a day arrived where she was to be my lunch, we barely made it into the building where we work before I asked her if it was time. It only took her a few minutes to say yes. We tittered nervously on the way to my apartment, afraid the wrong casual word would disrupt the spell and return us to our original accursed universe. Magic potions brusquely inhaled temporarily warded off our disastrous lives with protective vibrations.
Clothes cast aside, I threw her on my bed, shoved her legs out wide and devoured her. I pried her open with my tongue and slurped every drop from her slick, smooth pussy. She fed herself to me, and I feasted on her. I found the perfect world with her coming in my mouth, and I clung to it desperately.
When we were both too tired to continue, I stripped and held her close. We didn't rest long, clinging fiercely to each other as I slowly found my way inside her. She likes to tangle her fingers in my hair while we kiss. I like to feel her scream into my mouth. She shook in my arms as I split her open over and over. I was disappointed in myself when I finally came, but the satisfaction and affection on her face forgave me.
We were often unable to convince life to cooperate. I never knew disappointment until she was snatched away from me at the last moment by a meeting scheduled by people with a woefully inadequate sense of priorities. Even professional darts players don't have to deal with a moving board.
The air quavered around us when we were too close. We left the office at lunch one Friday, scheduled this time because I refused to take any chances of her being stolen away from me prematurely. As she kissed her way down my body my heart pounded and my breath stuck. She didn't need to encourage me to be hard enough for her to swallow. She worshiped me with her mouth, eager to show me that my love was not misplaced, and my effort was appreciated. Her lips and tongue found every inch of me, and then she took me deeply, slowly, until she couldn't control the need to show me how much she needed me. Her mouth was like nothing I've ever felt, and my world swam when I exploded down her throat.
