Chapter 1: Silently Sensual
Alexandra could be silent. Sara could not. Alexandra could be devoted to someone else's pleasure. Sara could not.
Sara received from dispatch the orders for her to report to Samantha McLeod. On her way to do so, she wondered: what would be asked of her? What. Would. Be. Asked? Of. Her.
[Flashback] Alexandra initiated a change in position, ending her offering him more of her breasts surrounding his shaft, a tit job, pleasuring his penis between her breasts. He smiled and instantly surged in his desire to breed Alexandra as she rotated, slowly and sensually, until her position had changed for a 69, he on the bottom with a choice of her pussy that pleased without ending or the ass that would win awards if awards were available for award-winning asses. She on top, so that her mouth all the way into her throat, also engaging her lungs, so that every movement, even her breathing, could be devoted to pleasing his penis. She slowly continued the elliptical rotating of hips and the subtle muscular contractions that she knew would entice him even more for ass play. Each was happy. Each was aroused. Each was sharing in the happiness of the other.
His responsiveness to her ass was exhilarating for her. This was love, silently sensual, spiritually as well as physically approaching nirvana (the Buddhist notion for the disappearance of the individual into the universe). She loved his loving her ass. Almost, she felt, worshipful.
[Return to Present] In the emotional recollection to her last time with him, Alexandra was hesitating to return to the now, to the reality What reality? The white lie that he was gone? He had told her to pretend. To act in all ways as if he had passed away. At the wake, the celebration of life, the gathering of those important in the lives of Ashley and her grandfather, when it was Alexandra's turn to share his last words with her she had to decide whether to tell a white lie. A lie. Yes, a lie, but, harmless compared to the harm that telling the truth might have triggered? His secret. Her lie.
From the outset of their relationship, Alexandra had enjoyed his silent communication. They had exchanged few words between themselves. They were a couple that had enjoyed many lovable soul-mating thoughts together. They seemed to be always hearing the same music from the universe.
Odd, for her, a rising star in social influencing, to be silent. She had the ability to be quiet. She had the ability to keep secrets. She had the conscience to feel badly if she had to deceive anyone. She was honest in her influence. She made her money from being a social influencer. Talking, writing, and posting about the other activities in her life was her job. Having her ass teased was her pleasure.
How could she share with others what he had said in his last words with her? Better that nobody knew of them, let anyone believe it was just more of their bonding without words than to know the actual words, the instructions, he had said.
Silence would be believable. A white lie that they had been silently lovemaking would work. They had consistently been silently lovemaking for, well, it had felt like somewhere, sometime, no, outside of time counting down. She honestly did not know if he wanted her to talk, or to talk more. She honestly did not know. Did he want to hear her moan? Did he want her to talk dirty? Did he want her to talk at all? Even the thought of asking him had not come up. She enjoyed everything in how they interacted. Yes, she had heard him speak, and, yes, he had heard her speak. But, far more often than talking, their lives were together unspoken, between them, were smiles and touches that communicated where words have not gone. Even when he pitched in to help her assemble or disassemble products for her to review in her postings, they mostly communicated nonverbally.
Touching. They shared touching. Breathing. They shared breathing. Longing. Yes, they shared longing for one another, but, something is inadequate in saying that they longed for one another. Somewhere on a spectrum that might include longing was there also the idea of trusting? Was trusting what really set apart how they loved one another? There was no questioning, no doubting, no hesitation that they loved because they trusted and longed for each other.
Some lovers go to heights of exhilaration to share any information. Not him. With Alexandra, he had shared secrets that she and Ashley knew, but none of the others in Ashley's orbit had suspected. Knowing that he was dead to everyone else but wasn't really yet dead but soon likely would be, all too much to process for ordinary humans, all accepted on the shoulders of Ashley and Alexandra.
He would sometimes say an odd factoid that especially got a reaction from Aida. More often, he and Ashley would engage in their language of shrug. They spoke shrug. Aida had picked it up earliest and demonstrated her becoming fluent. Alexandra had delighted in catching on, acquiring and using the new skill. Shrugging was an amazingly fun way to share ideas.
He treated the women in his life differently, but, without anything that diminished his love for any. With Alexandra, his love was without limit. Just as his trusting of Alexandra was without doubt. Unquestionable. What was it about pets that people said they enjoyed -- unconditional love? Did that mean that he necessarily had less trust of Aida? Aida, analytical to the apex of anyone's being analytical, would thrive on being questioned, as if an erotic component of love-making. She explored the world of sex toys. Sex toys with him, with Alexandra, with Elsebet, with herself, oh, yes, with herself.