I can tell my period is due in a week or less, as I have become, inwardly at least, moodier. However, I have not yet done what I have been doing pre-cycle for the past few months; that is, masturbate and come hornily (as if there’s any other way to come…), and then immediately break into tears thinking about the ex.
Oh, the things I look forward to each month.
He has been occupying my thoughts, though, speaking of which. Along with all the should haves, should have nots, whys. Not among them is ‘I should have stayed with him,’ which seems like a no-brainer, but there are times when I am feeling particularly low, or especially craving human contact, sensuality, and affection…of the male persuasion, where I wonder when I will be able to feel any of that again.
And, I confess, there are times when I miss him.
For a brief breath of time before I remember how he treated me, what he was trying to turn me into, and what he put me through.
The thoughts that closely follow behind, well, they are not something I need to share. But they are born of an unquenched, feral rage I have been unable to get rid of ever since I left him.
As if he has refused me even that peace of mind.
D: “Ah, Miss Sterner. It’s been awhile since our last inspection. Please, have a seat here. Oh, yes, the skirt will have to come off. It will only get in the way.”
D: “Comfortable? Good. You know the drill: feet up on the stirrups. We’ll need to make sure you are secure and cannot move around too much. Would not want to accidentally injure something, would we?”
S: “Yes, Doctor…”
D: “Your face is red. Are you uncomfortable?”
S: “No Doctor…Well, I do feel rather vulnerable in this position.”
D: “Understandable, Miss Sterner, but necessary for your examination. Rest assured I will do my best to lessen your discomfort.”
S: “Thank you, Doctor.”
D: “Of course. Now, let us begin. Just relax…Ah, I see your clitoris is already swollen. Very good. Let’s take a look farther down…”
S: “Oh…dear, is…is all of that wetness mine?”
D: “Mmm…just from this it appears your vagina is very healthy. But of course I will have to do a more thorough examination. Time to check on the strength and tightness of your vaginal muscles. I will start with one finger…”
S: “Oh…that does feel good, Doctor…Oh!”
D: “Your juices are clear and healthy, Miss Sterner. And such a pure scent…mmm, and taste! Here, Miss Sterner, open your mouth…”
S: “Oh my! I have never tasted myself…”
D: “Knowing one’s own body intimately is the secret to lifelong health and happiness, Miss Sterner. Let’s continue the examination…Ah, there’s your G-spot. Oh, but you are tight…see how I can barely fit 3 fingers inside! Now, Miss Sterner, I am going to need your help in order to be as thorough as possible.”
S: “What do you need me to do, Doctor?”
D: “Your labia have grown exceedingly swollen, and it is getting difficult to inspect further. I want you to place your fingers here and pull outward…yes, just like that. Good, now please hold your labia apart until I instruct you further.”
D: “Tell me, Miss Sterner, have you been doing your Kegels?”
S: “..yes…yes, Doctor…every day, as you ordered…”
D: “Excellent. Your vaginal muscles are strengthening well. And so responsive to the proper stimuli! Yes, you have improved much since your first checkup. It is time to measure this improvement with my own…calibrated tool.”
S: “Oh…What does this mean, Doctor?”
D: “It means, Miss Sterner, that you must relax and, when I tell you, squeeze your muscles as when you are doing your Kegels. I will fill your vagina, and so be able to measure the strength of your muscles.”
S: “Yes Doctor…”
D: “You are still on the pill as I have ordered?”
S: “Yes, of course, Doctor.”
D: “Very good. Then it is time…remember to relax, Miss Sterner. Ah, you are so well lubricated…”
D: “Now, Miss Sterner, I want you to squeeze hard, and rhythmically, just as when you are practicing your Kegels…oh…yes, just like that…”
D: “Keep your labia spread, please! I must be able to properly stimulate your clitoris. It is very red and swollen now.”
D: “Are you going to orgasm now, Miss Sterner?”
S: “Ah….ah….oh, God…yes…oh God…”
D: “Yes, very good. Ah…your vagina is spasming so! Perfect…Ah yes…”
S: “God…Doctor, I can feel you throbbing inside of me! Oh…it feels as though something thick and hot is filling my insides!”
D: “Yes, Miss Sterner…Oh yes. You have done most well…I have not come this quickly with any of my other patients. Our examination is just about complete…Thank you, Miss Sterner, you have been a stellar patient.”
S: “Thank you, Doctor! I have never felt more invigorated and sated!”
D: “You are most welcome. Now, let’s get you cleaned up. I will collect the liquid from inside you for measurement purposes. Then you are free to go.”
S: “Yes Doctor.”
D: “Oh, and don’t forget our appointment next month, to improve your pain tolerance.”
S: “I won’t forget, Doctor. Goodbye.”
D: “Until next time, Miss Sterner. Take care.”
She met up with him again later that week. No, that isn’t quite right. He took her out, later that week. She could feel that subtle shift already, could feel the shimmering of her nerves and fast-beating heart as she answered his call, listened to his voice telling her he wanted to see her again, suggested plans that held an undertone of unquestionable order.
He would see her again.
She sensed the bait, the lure in his voice and command, and sank into that temptation, completing the shift in her agreement of his plans. An agreement that penetrated her much more than the innocent plans seemed to hold. That induced the change in her mental semantics from subject to direct object.
Oh. How that thought had made her shiver then.
She sat at the park bench near the water fountain he had described in the call. She noted the exactness of the details he had illustrated, looking around her as she waited. The little bookstore and coffeeshop that was directly behind where she sat, a street down. Even the kinds of trees that bordered the stone path by the bench. His directions left her with complete confidence of her surroundings.
“Ah, you found the place. Good.” His sudden voice made her jump. He stood behind the bench, and she spun around to face him. He held an ice cream cone in one hand, which was half-extended towards her.
“This one’s yours.” She reached out to take it, just as he pulled his hand back and walked around to sit beside her on the bench. His eyes glinted; she was reminded of their first meeting. He extended his hand again, lifted the ice cream to the level of her mouth, and held it there. Waiting. Studying her face.
She looked at him, felt the intensity of his gaze tempered by an underlying…mirth? Only the slightest tightening of skin around the mouth, the smallest wrinkling at the corner of his eyes, suggested he was amused by her hesitation.
“I…You…?” The question died on her lips. The intention was clear, and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t understand. He waited.
She opened her mouth slightly, leaning forward. Half-closed it, glancing between his eyes and the ice cream. He waited. Her tongue reached out, tentatively taking a lick. The contact with the ice cream sent an electric shock down her body that had nothing to do with its coldness. She raised her eyes and saw a transformation in his eyes…some resonance of pride and power she could not completely understand, as if the electricity she had just felt was passed through to him. He smiled as she licked the vanilla off her lips, swallowed what she had gathered on her tongue.
He retracted his arm, took a bite of the ice cream and held it back up to her lips. She realized her body had stiffened in her internal confusion and conflict, while his had remained relaxed and loose, full of a kind of playful arrogance. This drew her in even more.
He traded the ice cream back and forth between them until they finished the cone. Then he got up, took her hand, and led her to the drinking fountain they had been sitting across from.
“Time to take a drink,” he said, pressing the button and holding it. He motioned her towards the steady stream of water, and she, now entranced, leaned over and drank unquestioningly. She raised her head when he stopped the flow, licking stray drops from her lips.
That’s when he kissed her.
Cupping a hand around her neck, he pulled her to him. He kissed her fully on the mouth, dragging the breath out of her. She felt lightheaded and her senses were filled with him. The scent of his body. The texture of his lips, the stubble of his chin against her jaw.
It was over as quickly as it had begun, and she, dazed, realized he was walking her home. Again. He kept his hand at her elbow, gently steering her in directions she was already familiar with, but she was too lightheaded to protest. That small, reserved corner of her mind cried out in indignation at being led in this manner, when she was perfectly able of finding her own way home.
She paid it no mind, that small point of contact he maintained radiating with warmth that spread over her entire body. This could not be a bad thing.
pt. 1: meeting
Each syllable beckons to my ear, to listen carefully, listen closely. What vibrates underneath, just under the surface of each melodic sound?
A beautiful word in form and utterance. A word that exemplifies the harmony between sound and meaning.
A word that tells a story.
The beginning is elusive; a passing sigh between lips. The allure of the vowel. Quickly it turns into a hiss, the soft subtle friction of slippery cloth against naked skin, of that same cloth sliding off and pooling on the ground as breath passes between teeth, tongue and lips.
Teeth nibbling against hot flesh, of rasping breathy whispers against the ear, these are the golden, liquid chapters of this story. Skin against skin, warm, beating hearts, the fluidity of movement between two bodies.
X. Marked flesh, taut limbs. These thoughts leave me with shivers, and with yearning for more than the tart ending provides. It is only foreplay, a lingering scent that echoes unsated desire.