Accustomed to Her Face

Offering

You sat on the soft cushion of the window seat – the one that was built into the great bay window of your bedroom. You were trembling and you didn't know why.

The moonlight poured in those tall bay windows – the windows that overlooked the frozen garden below – and it flowed over the deep sills behind the built-in window seats. The light gently illuminated the table there and the crystal vase of white roses; and it fell into your hands resting, cupped on the table-top. The rich, summer color of your fingers and palms seemed to hold the gentle light. And you smiled.

As you looked around across the deep carpet, the fire was low in your marble fireplace. The one candle burned on the bed-table where you had lit it. The covers on your bed were folded back. The room was warm.

You turned away, and leaned toward the window and watched the trees swaying in the night winter wind, casting their moon-shadows on the snowy ground. The frigid air outside reached its chill through the glass to your cheek. The grandmother moon had called to your young heart. You would obey.

"Very good, Little One." That inner whisper – the voice you had come to think of as your companion – the sisterly presence you shared your room with. "I am with you tonight." You felt her touch your heart, the way she does – a tender caress. You inhaled deeply and leaned your head back. Blissful.

You stood, and taking a solitary rose out of the vase, you positioned it on the table there – snow white. Crossing the room, you opened the bed table drawer and found your stack of fine lace handkerchiefs there. You placed one of the squares of delicate fabric under your pillow.

Walking around your bed, you paused. You put your hand on the heavy glass doorknob and hesitated, looking at your hand – feeling the moment. Then you grinned and turned the knob, opening the door to the adjoining room – my room – our room. I sat there in the high-backed chair, reading.

I looked up and smiled at you. Your dark eyes sparkled in the reading-light. You leaned and reached across me and turned it off. You knew you were giving me a view of your breasts as your robe opened slightly. Righting yourself again, without a word, you took my hand and lead me into the inviting darkness of your room.

Over its threshold, you let go of my hand by your bed and stepped away from me so I could watch as you slowly, luxuriously undid the silk belt that held your robe together. You stood, looking up at me, watching as I took in the sight – the vision of loveliness – the young lady offering herself to her older lover; to the man that adores her – and, as you now thought, to her master.

You though to yourself – in my voice, "Such a good pet." The thought aroused you.

You opened the robe slowly, revealing the soft form of your breasts, shoulders, and neck. Your curly hair cascaded over your shoulder. Your heart was pounding inside. Your nipples had become erect.

You were watching my face intently and you saw the delight and the hunger in my eyes. I smiled and your heart ignited. You gasped. How could it be – this new life you found?

Sitting across from me at breakfast in that little café near campus – laughing together when we met for lunch at the Student Center – it seemed so normal – as if it had always been this way. Sometimes, when old fears leaped out of nowhere and cast their shadows across your eyes, you would text me and the shadows would dissipate with my reply. The days before we met seemed a lifetime away. How could it be?

Sometimes, when you felt overwhelmed by everything, when you felt angry and defiant, you tried not to belong to me. Sometimes you told yourself you would run away from everything; from school, from your friends, from me. Sometimes you thought maybe you should be on your own. You would go somewhere that nobody knew you and you would start all over again. Free.

But then you'd realize that you were on your own. This was your choice. You had found the home you always wanted, but didn't know you were looking for. You already had run away. You belonged to me now like the ocean and land belong together. Yes – and so I belonged to you too. As it had always, always been. Timeless.

You felt your pussy moisten – an instinctive reaction. You gasped again. So it was a choice and involuntary too. Like a moth to a flame. You needed this. You couldn't resist it. And there was a kind of wild freedom in it. Freedom in the context of our mutual possession. How could it be?

You were accustomed to being the smartest person in the room. Growing up, you always had been. Even now, in college, although you were surrounded by brilliant people, you took it for granted sometimes – you learned so quickly and easily. But here with me, it was different than it had ever been. You had found a mate – and a playmate. Your flashes of brilliance were met with my steady hand. I always seemed to understand you – sometimes better than you understood yourself.

You felt like you were growing up so fast. You could feel how you were no longer a girl – you had become very-much the young woman. The very challenges of being together had changed you. You slowly inhaled. You knew I could see your mind and that was thrilling.

You knew that I was patient. You often felt me watching you with a sort-of steady consideration – a kind of reserved observation. It made you feel seen and understood – and exposed. You shivered. Your pussy moistened more again. Yes, you knew that I was waiting until you were ready. Well – you were ready now.

Your robe fell to the floor. You slowly turned around – away from me. You wanted to show me what was mine.

You were lovely and you felt it under my gaze. Your curly hair cascaded over your shoulders. Your warm skin drank in the candle light, returning the highlights and depths of shadow that defined your form. Gentle curves stretching across your skeleton; your vertebrae and ribs just showing beneath the flesh. There, as you flexed your neck to look back at me over your right shoulder, was your scapula floating in its tendons' grasp. And there was your waist as it curved above your pelvis' wings. The valentine of your coccyx just above the fold between your hips inviting me to explore what lay between. All in good time.

I stepped to you, behind you, and you leaned against me, craning your neck back and up, parting your lips for the kiss I gave you. My mouth was hot and urgent, but controlled, waiting – waiting for just the right moment to press my attack. You felt weak in the knees. I felt your shudder.

I slid my hands from high on your back down to your waist and gripped you. I held you there as I kissed and nibbled your right shoulder. You lifted your hand and played with my hair – soft, so fine, blonde.

Suddenly, you wanted to tell me everything. You longed to say all that was in your heart and on your mind. How worried you had been about school, about your life. But now, as I held you so tight and so safe, the words came out, a whisper: "My Shujin,"and you breathed my name and you nibbled my ear and you felt my strong hands take control of you, sliding up your sides and around you and gripping your breasts. You gasped. I pinched your nipples – just right – just the way you often long for it; and you moaned softly.

So I firmly turned you around to face me and I held you against my chest. I pulled your head back by your hair and I kissed you tenderly – then hard – then so gentle it was like a Luna Moth's wings fluttering against your mouth.

You swallowed and blinked hard – that adorable way you do. "I love you," I said softly.

"Oh God, my very own Shujin. Here for real. I love you too. So much."

I let you move away from me and you lifted your arms to unbutton my shirt. Slowly. One button at a time, pulling its tails out of my trousers as you got to the garment's bottom – six of its seven buttons – and you ran your hands under the cotton – feeling my chest – teasing my nipples.

You brought your right hand to rest over my heart. You felt it beating there. You grinned and looked down, taking my hand and placing it between your breasts and you said, "What does my heart say, Shujin?" You looked up at me mischievously. "What does it say?"

I smiled and thought and smiled more broadly. "Your heart sings ballads of hope and youth, Konekochan. Of tomorrows and mornings to come." I brushed your hair back with my left hand. "Your heart beats the rhythm of promise." I chuckled. "It scoffs at your liver's cautious warnings and flippantly tosses away her purifying wisdom." I laughed softly, perhaps a little self-indulgently at my own wit, and you smiled, your lips slightly parted.

I looked deep into your dark eyes and tenderly stroked your cheek. "Your heart may briefly succumb to fear, Little Girl, but it is not made of it and so it will emerge again to laugh at your nightmares." I paused and smiled. "Your heart is faithful. Your heart wants love. It will not be refused."

You gasped and blinked again and placed your hand back on my chest and said, breathily, "What does your heart say, Shujin?"

"You tell me, Little Love."

"Very well," you giggled, and you began, looking down, "Then – your heart sings harmony. Or perhaps it is really the melody – the melody – of – of our lives' ballad – our lives' duet. Your heart waltzes, Shujin, to a dance of the world, of its stuff –," you seemed suddenly far away and said very thoughtfully, "– all its – stuff." You paused as if you were listening and began again. "But he says he still dreams the dreams of your youth. Even though you stopped believing in him for a time, he faithfully preserved those dreams for you." You looked up at me and smiled. "Faithful heart indeed. I remind you of that, don't I?" Your smile faded to a look of wonder. "I remind you of your dreams, don't I Shujin? Perhaps that is why the world sent me to you – through all its stuff – all its time – and material stuff."

You lifted your arms and wrapped them around my neck standing on your tip-toes to kiss me. Your tongue explored my mouth. You could feel the fine cotton of my shirt against your naked breasts. My arms were around you, complementing your lingering embrace.

You broke off the kiss. You smiled again and your voice took on a sultry tone, "What I have is yours, Shujin. My heart, my liver." You pushed my shirt off my shoulders and it fell. You began quickly undoing my belt, unbuttoning my trousers. You pushed them down and off 'till I was naked too.

You knelt down and kissed my cock, sliding your hands up the backs of my legs and gripping my hips. You took it into your mouth and sucked and felt it pulsing as it began to harden, swelling while you took my balls in your hand. I sighed and wove my fingers into your curls.

You took my cock deep into your mouth. I was suddenly hard. You felt it pressing down your tongue, tasted the salty pre-come. Fully erect now, as you took it all the way in, it pressed its way down to the very top of your throat. You sucked it and bit it very gently, perfectly, your nose pressed into my pubis and your throat milked its tip.

You felt me shudder with the pleasure your were giving me and you thought, "That's right, my baby boy, your Little Koneko is yours, but she owns you too."

You slid your mouth off, you stood gracefully. "Come on, dreamer, take me." Your voice was warm and you grabbed my hand as you lithely jumped backward and up onto the bed. You spread your legs and put my fingers between – right there – on your pussy lips and leaned back and spread wantonly. "Come on, baby. Come on, Shujin."

Your cunny was wet and slick and I slid a finger, then two, between the lips and up into you, hooking around and catching your g-spot just right. You squealed and nearly came. "Oh, God!" and you squirmed on the bed inviting me.

I laughed. You were delightful. You giggled. "All right, naughty Little Girl," I said warmly.

You leaned back on your hands. You looked up into my eyes as I worked you. And I took my left hand, wetting its fingers in my mouth and snuck it up under and into your naughty little ass-hole. "Oh GOD!" you exclaimed as I frigged you – and you came – so hard – so long. "Hnnnnngggggg. Oh! Oh, yeessssss," the muscles of your young cunny gripping my fingers, your ass clamping down on me – yes – hard.

The look on your face was one of slight amazement. Then, throwing your head back, it was your turn; you laughed for the sheer delight of it – and it was like the warm, young voice of spring. As if in answer, or perhaps like a harmony, the winter wind howled especially loudly and rattled the shutters.

So you grabbed my hands again and lasciviously took my fingers out of your cunny and ass. You pulled me into bed, drawing my right hand to your mouth and sucking your wetness from my fingers. My left hand's fingers were not at all soiled from your sweet little ass, and you very naughtily sucked them, tasting the faint tang of your fundament. So naughty.

You snuggled us under the covers. You held me close, my hard cock against your belly. You shoved me back and climbed on top of me and pushed and wriggled and moaned again as your greedy pussy lips yielded.

You kissed me over and over. You undulated as you began to fuck me.

I reveled in your abandon. I held your waist as you moved. Your tight little cunny was milking me, you would have my seed inside you soon. But not yet. I grabbed you and threw you beneath me. I wanted the upper hand.

I took your wrists and thrust them behind your head, where I held them fast. Then, my cock still deep inside you, I slid my right hand down your belly and between your pussy lips to your clitoris. I began to tease it as I fucked you slowly.

"Don't you come, Little Girl – not until I tell you to," I growled softly in your ear. I had you right on the edge.

"Oh, Shujin! Please – please let me come." You were trembling. I was holding you there at the edge of orgasm. I knew you loved this game. I knew you loved to be made to wait for my permission.

"Hush, Little Love. Not yet. Now relax. Hush."

"But Shujin! Oh God!"

"Relax, my love."

You felt confused. What did I mean? You wanted so badly to come. You were on the edge – so hot – right there...

And there was that whisper – the inner voice. "Let go, Little One. I'll show you how. Let me share your body." And you inwardly responded to your companion: "Yes, Sister. Yes."

You heard me: "Let go, Koneko. Surrender." And so then you let go. You felt yourself falling. Deep. So deep. But I was there all around you and through you. You sighed and kissed my mouth. You shuddered. It was as if you were lit from inside.

You felt me lift you. You were sitting on my lap with your legs around me, my legs under you. So intimate. And everything melted away.

You held me. I held you. That's all there was. Just us. You had the sense that you were home. You thrilled. You rested in my embrace for – minutes, for – for how long?

Now – how long has it been? It doesn't matter. Thoughts like these barely touch your awareness.

You are naked. It feels good to be naked – open – completely exposed. You are sitting on my lap, facing me. It feels good to be so close and possessed. Your legs are around me. Your arms are around me. I am holding you around your waist. You know you are safe. You know you belong to me.

Your face is even with mine. Our lips are barely touching. Your breasts are touching my chest – your erect nipples being subtly teased by the sensation. There is the smell of our commingled sweat, musky and sweetly animal. You are filled with strong, constant arousal.

You can feel my ribs expand and fall – so slowly. You can hear the air as it passes through my nose – so softly. You can feel the beat of my heart through my chest – through the tease of your nipples – so close – so very close.

And just when you begin to form a thought, it collapses again into stillness – a quiet where only we exist.

You feel your own breathing. It matches mine exactly – effortlessly. You feel your own young heart beating – steady, slow and strong. And you feel your pussy lips opened, dripping wet, and my cock deep inside you.

We are sharing an incredible intimacy. You can feel my love flowing through you – palpable, sweet. And your own heart is lit from within.

"Oh, Shujin," you whisper.

How long has it been? It doesn't matter.

We are adrift together deep beneath the surface of a slow, strong river. Your spine undulates very slowly – perfectly – like a strand of silver light waving gently in the current; like a mermaid swimming – but by doing so, all the time very slowly fucking me as I guide you.

Every breath draws in a vibrating alive substance that fills your head and lungs and flows out through your arms and legs. And because of the closeness of my mouth, it seems as if we are inhaling each other's breath. With every exhale, you can feel the electric charge that surrounds your skin expand and blend with mine. You tenderly brush my lips with yours and I respond with the slightest touch to your upper lip with my tongue. Warm. Tender.

You hear yourself moan quietly, but it is as if you hear it from so far inside yourself that the part of you that moaned is just a surface part of you. You hear me whisper, "I love you too," but it is as if my voice is at that surface level – the real communication has been from the same, deep part of me that is so close to your own self that there is little difference. Your heart is flooded with a green light that tastes sweet on your tongue.

My cock, inside you so far that it nestles against your cervix, throbs and pulses and has an electricity of its own. And so does your cunny – wet, pulsing, gripping me. This union creates a flow of energy between us that is at once like a joining of our souls and also like hot, raw sexual fire – and the fire seems to smolder all through your abdomen and especially at the base of your spine.

You can feel my hands have moved to your hips and my thumbs meeting at this very spot at the base of your spine. That valentine. With every one of your slow undulations, I gently help move you. We are like one thing divided into two parts – two souls together; joined – one thing.

With your eyes closed, you can see us as if you are looking through your eyelids, yet your sight isn't limited to your eyes' point of reference. You can see us as if you are looking through a transparency – our bodies made of light.

You are aware of my intent. You are aware of how I am holding you, pulling you deep, keeping you here in the inner silence – holding you here in this river where you are swimming as you fuck me.

In this place, in this depth, in this pool of light – here suspended – with the fire of sex burning inside, you perceive your heart, like a flower opening. And as it opens, you gasp involuntarily and you hear me inhale more deeply – you know I have felt it too.

There is music in your head; a constant chord. Like voices – like bells – like the sound of glasses being played – a finger-tip on each rim.

And a vision rises from the depth of your awareness and projects against your inner landscape. A memory. A time like this but long ago. Fleeting but unmistakable and, even though you remain conscious of the present, of our union, you are also in the reality of the memory.

You smile and whisper, "Shujin." It is a statement of fact – of recognition. It is night in this other place. It is warm and dark. There is space all around us in the garden where we sit – joined just like this with the stars above us.

Then the vision is gone.

But with that vision – that memory – comes a change. You feel different. You are ageless, truly timeless now. And you feel as if your view sweeps back into far reaches of worlds within worlds. You are boundless. You are full.