My Immortal Ch 03

It was all I could say. It was all I could think. Pussy cream still trickled from my pulsing cunt, even though I'd stopped cumming but I couldn't seem to help it. His sweet caress was keeping my body strung as tight as a clock spring and my heart was thumping like a tribal drum.

"Are you okay?"

"No." I breathed, letting my release into another orgasm that seemed sweeter than the first. I knew he was doing it but I had no will to resist him. "Oh, God!"

His mental touch left as gently as it had come, leaving me limp and breathlessly wanting more.

"That was incredible."

"I hoped you'd think so."

"I've never cum that hard in my entire life."

"That was but a taste, sweet Carla. There's much more to the iceberg than the tip."

I closed my eyes, my fingers still playing in my escaping cream and sighed at the satiation that flooded me. "I can't imagine any more than that."

"Of course you can. We haven't even touched yet."

I couldn't even fathom that thought. How would sex with him be like if I was exploding like a Fourth of July firecracker now?

"I think I'd die." I laughed.

"Yes, you would. And I would die with you, sharing

le petit mort

, sweet Carla. It is a death that I shamelessly look forward to."

"That's the fourth time you've called me 'Carla' but you haven't told me your name."

"Is knowing my name important to you?"

"If it's the name of my lover, then yes, it's important. That decision is up to you." I was sleepy and tired of playing his mental games. The air was still and quiet and I curled under my blankets, awaiting his reply.

"Gil."

It was a whisper and the way he said it let me know that he was telling me a secret, opening himself up to me.

"Gil Meadows."

"Nice to meet you, Gil." I murmured, a smile on my face as I fell in a deep, satisfying sleep.

The next three weeks were anxious for me. I lay awake each night, waiting for Gil to visit but he never came. I began to question my sanity again after many restless nights and my frustration turned into despair and tears. Cal caught me crying while I was fixing dinner for us the next day and was horrified to see me that way.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, Carla. You don't cry for nothing."

"I am a girl, Cal. That gives me the right to cry whenever I damn well please."

"Yeah, maybe, except you don't cry, Carla. You haven't cried since Dad died."

"So?"

"Are you pregnant?"

"No."

"Menopausal?"

"No."

"Is it that time of the month?"

"No, Calvin. Now will you just go away?" I turned my back on him, frantically stirring the garlic so it wouldn't burn. "Just leave me alone. I'm okay."

I heard him huff and he hugged me, muttering, "I know you're not okay but I'll leave you alone." I nodded in thanks, swallowing fresh sobs. "But if you want to talk, you know I'll listen."

A kiss on the cheek and I was alone again, left with my thoughts and tears that didn't seem to want to dry up. I managed to finish the goulash and served Cal. He ate heartily and said nothing about the fact that I wasn't joining him. I cleaned up the kitchen instead and went upstairs to take a hot bath, hoping Calgon would take me away but instead, a sweet, warm whisper invaded my attempt at rest.

"I'm sorry."

"Where have you been?" I couldn't help crying and he took over, wrapping my arms around me and embracing me. "Let me go!"

"No. Please listen to me."

I didn't want to hear what he had to say. I felt betrayed and I knew that my feelings were so deep because of the hold he had on me. I fought against him but he was much stronger, wrestling me into acceptance while I stewed in anger and hurt. "Just leave me alone."

"No, Carla. Please let me explain."

He took my silence as an opening and started talking.

"I am a speaker. I give seminars on what I'm doing right now. The day after we last talked, I left on a tour and I just got back yesterday."

"But you didn't feel compelled to let me know yesterday?"

"I was exhausted. You don't understand how much this takes out of me."

"I don't care."

"Yes, you do."

The softness in his voice made tears come to my eyes again.

"I want to meet you, Carla. I want to touch you this time."

"And leave me again?"

"Not unless you want me to. I don't just want to be a lover in your mind; I want to be your physical lover, if you'll have me."

I thought for a long time and I felt his touch lessen, allowing me to drop my arms. I had nothing to lose, except my loneliness. After all, men weren't beating my door down to take me out and I ached to experience sex with him again.

"All right. I'll meet you."