'at

PRESENT

I have the cab drop me at the end of the lane, a small backpack of clothing on one shoulder. The sounds of your solstice party slowly gain strength as I approach the house. You come around the corner, intuiting my presence. Your silver hair is inches longer. It has been three years, after all. You are wearing a beautiful yellow and purple see-through flowing shirt, and you have made cut offs of the jeans I left behind. They are worn spectacularly at the crotch.

Your nipples harden inside your shirt when you see me and I harden with them. The cut-offs slide off your hips. You say "cunt!", your signal to me where you want me to cum the first time of the day. There were many days when we fucked every few hours throughout the day and night. I never burned with a woman the way I burned with you.

My jeans fly off as quickly as your cut-offs. I never wear underwear around you. I slam you against the wall hard like you like it. You wrap your legs around me and I shove into you. As always, I am astounded by your internal heat. I am scalded by you once again, buried in your moist flames.

You cum immediately, and then begin fuck me, moaning as I push into you. As always with you I am pulled into a world of raw, uncomplicated fucking. I don't know my name when I fuck you. You are a living cunt, and I am a living cock. All is fucking.

I count your orgasms. Each time you cum, you moan into my mouth. I count five as I shove deep inside and release. My knees are shaking from an earth-shattering orgasm. I laugh as I lower you to the pavement. You search through my bag and find my tobacco and rolling papers. You expertly roll me a cigarette and light it from a lighter you keep only for me. You take one deep drag as always, and then pass it to me to finish.

You slip on your cut offs and turn to me. "Party?", you say. I just smile and nod my head. We were never much for words anyway.

SUMMER SOLSTICE, THREE YEARS PRIOR

I am walking through a village in the Scottish Highlands. The atmosphere is festive. The town thrums with earth power. I glance up to see a well-worn sign. The sign is simple, K'at (Desire), and the chalice of the goddess. I feel my cock awaken and thicken as I touch the door.

I smell Nag Champa and wet earth. My blood pumps. I smile at the proprietress. Shoulder length silver hair, wearing a batik blouse and not much more. Late fifties? She has small breasts and huge nipples. Her thighs are strong.

She is smoking hashish and tobacco. She gestures, and when I nod she walks over to me. She kneels in front of me and lays the cigarette in my hand. I inhale deeply. There is a deep electricity that passes between us.

She runs her fingers along my entire length. She bites me through the fabric. Her nipples are fully engorged as I look down into her blouse. I am naked under my jeans and she pushes them down to my hips. The hash hits just as she swallows my entire length. I am grateful for the purity of the drug as time slows down.

She concentrates on my shaft, using her throat and her lips as a yonic passage. She is innately aware of my rhythm, taking my full length and easing me out. I concentrate on breathing and feeling every sensation. She starts to hum around my cock, subtly vibrating the skin.

Time has disappeared. There is only sensation. For the first time, after years of very pleasant but fruitless attempts, I separate and disembody. My Kundalini opens fully, and I begin a mind-blowing energy orgasm. My physical release becomes meaningless. She steps away in wonder, allowing me the space to experience the Kundalini flow.

Minutes or hours later, the ocean recedes and I come back to myself. I take her by the hand to a group of pillows on the floor and spread her wide. She expects me to push into her, but I want her in my mouth. She is already pure liquid. She came in the backflow of my surge.

She reclines in pleasure as I begin drinking her. The raven tattoo above her source seems to spread its wings. I lose myself in her. Two hours later she screams after her final explosion. We have lost count of her orgasms.

She roles another joint, and takes a long drag. She writes her address on a fresh paper with a question. Stay? I smile and we close up shop together. We walk home hand in hand.