I Know Her

© 2013

Please do not reproduce this original work in any form without written permission from the author.

*

I wonder what she's doing right now. It's 8 p.m. on the East coast, so her conference is over and she'll have eaten dinner by now—probably with Melissa. I know they haven't seen each other lately, so my love will have enjoyed spending time with her friend.

Is she reading about financial management? Although it's her least favorite part of her job, I know she'll do it brilliantly—like everything she does. Partly because she has a hint of OCD, but mostly because she's conscientious. Her ability to concentrate astounds me, but maybe that's because my call letters are ADD. She's also much smarter than I am. She denies it, but we both know it's true.

It's hard not to talk with her for a few days at a time. Years ago we decided not communicate while she's at conferences. Absence makes the heart and body grow fonder. In any case, it's exquisite torture. When she comes home, the sex―and our emotional connection―is stunning.

So I wait. And remember. And breathe. And miss her. And fantasize.

Alone in our bed, I think about the first time we were physically intimate. We'd been together a couple months. She was hesitant because of her history. But I'd been gentle with her, reassuring her that I love her and wasn't going to leave. Then one evening after dinner she took my hand, led me back to our bedroom, and started peeling off my clothes.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, her brown eyes on mine. Then she carefully removed my bra straps from my shoulders. She cupped my breasts, and then leaned in to bite my shoulder gently. I still wasn't certain, until she kissed me, her mouth hungry. Then I gave in.

She nudged me backwards onto the bed and straddled me, her dark hair hanging over her eyes, breasts swaying with her movement. I grabbed one dark pink nipple in my mouth and the other with my hand, sucking and squeezing. I saw her eyes start to glaze over and her breathing deepen. And then suddenly, without asking or giving any warning, I plunged two fingers deep into her. She gasped in surprise, and then groaned deeply. She met my thrusts over and over until she shuddered and shook on my hand, her juices flowing down my arm and onto my stomach as she came.

I fantasize about her return. Out of thoughtfulness for me, she'll take a taxi to the house so I don't have to pick her up at the airport late at night. She'll try to be quiet when she comes in, but I sleep lightly and will be waiting. I'll hear her in the kitchen and call to her. She'll tell me to shush and go back to sleep, though she knows I won't. I'll stay half-awake until she slides into bed. We'll spoon, my breasts to her back, and fall to sleep, warm in each others arms.

The next morning I'll start nuzzling her neck. Even though she'll be tired after the flight and the weeklong conference, she'll want it as much as I do. I'll kiss behind her ear and down her neck as she murmurs she loves me.

I'll run the tip of my tongue around her earlobe and breathe into her ear. There will be a hitch in her breathing. Then I'll lick the side of her neck and roll her over onto her back.

"I bought something for us."

Her jet lag will give way to intrigue. I'll see anxiety in her eyes too. She doesn't like surprises, so she'll be quiet as I show her the butt plug and a harness I bought while she was gone. She was embarrassed the first time she admitted anal play excited her. Perhaps she'll think I've forgotten. But I love her, so I pay attention. I remember everything.

The plug will make her more anxious than the harness. But she'll take her cue from me. And I'm comfortable with the idea. I've been thinking about both for a long time. I won't use either until we're together though. She and I can learn and explore together. She'll blush—a rare and beautiful sight. We'll have to talk about it as she gets used to the idea. But I know she'll be interested.

Her eyes will be an intoxicating mixture of nervousness, uncertainty, and excitement. She'll want to use the harness on me, of course. It suits her butch nature. She'll have trouble containing her anticipation once I suggest that she take me doggy style; my ass turned up excites her tremendously. She'll strap on the harness and I'll try to sooth her uncertainty by giggling. That will put her more at ease. I'll get on my hands on knees for her and she'll groan. She'll guide my favorite dildo into my pussy from behind gently.

She'll start to thrust into me, hesitantly at first. When she hears my eagerness, she'll begin to push more quickly, teaching herself as she moves in and out of me. She'll learn quickly, and start to move with more assurance. I'll hear the sound of her entering my wetness over and over again. When she hears me start to moan, she'll reach between my legs to stroke my clit. I'll beg her to fuck me, faster, deeper.

After only a few strokes of her fingers around my most sensitive spot, my legs will start to shake. Then I'll strain and buck as I come, my cunt tightening around the silicone cock. I'll collapse on the bed breathing heavily, thanking heaven for my butch lover.

Her butch attitude is partly her birthright, and partly a response to a childhood I can't begin to comprehend. I see beyond that to her vulnerability. She knows she is safe to be all of herself with me, not just the tough part. She'll still be embarrassed that she'll want me to fuck her with the harness. Her love of being penetrated conflicts with her butchness. It's one of the things I'm drawn to about her—the contradiction between her dominance and her enjoyment of being fucked. I embrace it all—her butch attitudes, her hidden softness, even her wounds. I love all of her.

She'll grab the back of my head and pull me towards her in a passionate kiss. The kiss will grow in intensity; I'll crawl on top of her. Because of her history, we'll never play rough. But over the years she's becomes more comfortable with my passion.

I'll suck on her lower lip while I take her hands in mine. Bringing one hand to my lips, I'll take her fingers into my mouth one at a time and suck on each of them, running my teeth over the tips. She'll moan.

Then I'll run my down to the soft pillows of her breasts, while I breathe into her ear, then suck on her neck. She loves when I bite gently on one nipple and squeeze the other hard enough that she'll gasp. I'll keep doing it until I hear she say "Please."

Like the first time we loved each other after her surgery. She said it felt like she was a virgin all over again. I touched she, rubbed her clit until she couldn't take it anymore. She needed me inside her. A pleading, urgent, "Hurry." Not said in an attempt to be sexy, no hushed whisper. It was, ironically, the sexiest thing I'd ever heard; I could have come right then.

I'll run my hands down the swell of her hips and grab her ass.

"So...do you want to try it?"

We'll take time out. To put lube on the plug and on her adorable ass. Then I'll ease it in, checking with her, watching her face.

Once it's inside, I'll check again.

"Is this ok?"

"Yes. Ohhh...."

I'll shift onto her left side so I can run my right hand down to her wetness, touching her outer lips. Teasing. I'll run one finger up her labia from bottom to top, feeling her heat. Again. And again. Each time, pushing into her hot cavern just a little more, feeling more of her juices on my fingers. I'll stop touching her for a few moments, and then start again.

I figured her out years ago. I know how to love her to get the response I want. Sometimes I'm too impatient, eager to have her explode. But when I take my time, the reward is glorious. When her breathing starts to get ragged, I'll stop, stilling my hand for a moment. Then I'll start again. It does something to her. Her orgasm is much stronger and sobs wrack her body when she finally comes, wrapped in my arms.

I'll stop and start. This time, just before she comes, I'll reach behind her and tap the plug.

We'll be in gloriously uncharted territory. I can't wait to see what she does.