Crave – Connect
Featured in Sugasm #117.
I don’t really know where to begin or end this. I think the reason my experience with Crave was so overwhelming was because there has not been that emotional/spiritual connection with my previous sexual experiences. It had simply been bodies together. I still feel so grateful.
Crave arrived in my town Friday morning to see her friends who own an extra house down here. They had supper and went bar hopping in the club district. I got out of work early and met them down there, right about the time that the bars were threatening “last call.” The first time I hug someone, I always get a sense of how well I will get along with them. When they hugged me, I knew I was among friends. When I hugged Crave, our spirits said “hello” to each other, I think. Because of the late hour, we went back to their house to wind down. Sipping on chambord, I sat next to her – then close to her – then with her – entangled in her. I was reading her face and running my fingers along her pant legs until everyone seemed to be retiring. She seemed to be going to rest, too so I started fishing through my purse looking for lip balm, trying not to invite myself upstairs.
“Danger” – she smiled. She calls me danger, she called me up to the room. Upstairs we talked, lounging in a spacious spare bedroom. I lay close to her, talking to a woman I’ve never met before, a friend from a previous life. I wish I could remember what she said right before she kissed me the first time. She’s a biter, my bottom lip was so red. I remember being a suggestive, lewd little girl. I hope that it was not too much. I hope she would believe me that my bark is worse than my bite. She did, eventually.
It was early Saturday morning by this time. I hooked my left leg up between her legs, rocking and leaning forward, I kissed her and we moved together. We took off my shirt and I presented a feast of breast and skin. I had already decided at that time that I like her smile, her beautiful hazel eyes, and a mess of short rock star hair on top. Her hips and belly enveloped by softness and sweet. I held with my right hand, that place just above the hip. I kissed it. The softness and sweet. Lingering above her, with her lips and tongue searching out my flesh, she kissed – sucked – bit – that tender place right between my breasts and made a beautiful mark that has already vanished. I wish it could stay there forever.
Six a.m. came too soon and we crashed. I couldn’t sleep. The light was streaming in the windows and I was so near to another person, a stranger. When I’m asleep with someone else, I wake up off and on to look at them in wonder. By eleven I finally convinced her to flutter open her eyes. Someone pounded on the door. “who is it?” we asked, and one silly friend or another said, “Rent’s due!” We had a late breakfast, five world weary women, we ventured out into the grey day.
After breakfast at a diner, Crave and I intended to get me back to my place to change and get ready to go to the beach. I let her drive, we dropped off a friend and enjoyed the drive over to the opposite side of town. Unfortunately (or… fortunately) we found my apartment too inviting. We were still quite tired and headed to bed for a “nap.”
I would have enjoyed some shut eye, but I couldn’t let her lie there sleeping when I had her all to myself. The kissing started again, but the details on that are fuzzy.
In the beginning, she remembered my red ropes I’ve been bragging about. She first tied the ropes loose to my hands and slung them around her waist – embraced. She shoved my tight tank top over my breasts, exposing them to her. Feasting, once again, she touched and kissed my belly. “I need words of affirmation,” with everything being so new, it was nice to hear her say kind words about my body. I’ve loved my body for a long time, I just never really knew if anyone else agreed with me. With my arms around her waist, I pressed my hands into her back, reaching for her ass. Then, she tied them closer, above my head. I swear. This woman has the smoothest, most slippery tongue I have ever tasted. I can’t even think of a food to compare it to because even the inside of a peach is coarse compared to this.
She untied my hands. With our legs intertwined, Crave touched, tasted, smelled, and soothed my body, this body that has been aching for touch. She asked me what my body wanted, she told me, “well… my pussy wants to be on yours.” She asked if that would be okay. I nodded yes. It was very, definitely okay. The positioning is not easy, though. All I really remember about it is how deliciously slick and warm it was to have her cunt touching mine. I felt very light (light – happy, airy, illumined) in that moment.
She repositioned again, opened me up and took my left leg against her shoulder. Reaching down, she brushed my labia with her hand, exploring the folds and curves, and before I knew it she had one finger inside me, still rocking back and forth. And then there were two fingers. Then, I felt a third one gingerly touching my bum. She pushed it in slowly. Damn, that really hit the spot. That was exactly what I needed to relax. She didn’t even ask – and I still don’t know why she didn’t ask, but I totally loved it. Not long after, she asked for my fingers. I protested – I don’t know how on earth to do that! But it was easy. One, just one, not too far in, just enough to be felt. I was totally embarrassed by the knocking of my bed on the wall (note to self: make sure the bed isn’t flush with the wall next time) but I have never felt that good before! She hovered over me, thrusting her fingers in and out of me, fucking. We went at it like this for awhile until her breath peaked and her body slowed and she rested for a bit. “you can still hold me…”
I don’t understand how one can get off without a lot of stimulation. I’m certainly no pro at getting the girls off but I could tell from the expression on her face that she really enjoyed how it felt to have her fingers crammed into my soaked cunt. I remember her saying, at the time, how pleasurable it was, how nice my pussy felt on her hand. What a compliment. I’m still beaming. I’m disappointed that I can’t remember exact words. I think I cried out a lot of the memories.
Finally, she dove into my pussy. Even now, I’m at a loss for words to describe this. I know I felt tongue on my labia, teasing. I felt that smooth tongue on my clit. She kept saying how hard it was. Hmm. This is where I started feeling nervous because I’d already had sex with Autumn a couple days before and I had been frustrated that I couldn’t come for her, and here I am with this lovely woman who’s being so sweet and wonderful and I’m getting the performance anxiety again. Crave didn’t deserve for me to be all anxious. “You can do it, sweetie, just relax.” She pulled my legs off the bed, with my hips just at the edge and put that polished tongue back on my clit, and she sucked and massaged for a long time. It was good. So good. And it had already been so good before that point that I started to feel so very satisfied, even though I hadn’t actually come at all. I didn’t need to. I was very pleased.
Crave crawled up next to me and snuggled me, but it was only a few minutes, a few silent minutes before I started crying. I wasn’t sad, but I wasn’t exactly joyous either. I tried not to cry, I tried really hard, but when she told me it was okay to cry, I couldn’t help it anymore. “I’m sorry, I’m not sad…” She started crying too, seeing my tears. Quietly. She told me I was like the girl before, the one that had been wrong. I felt that she was carrying a lot of hurt. In a lull, where the tears had begun to dry up, I felt it all fall on me, the pain she carried fell on that place between my breasts where she had made her mark (on the green / heart chakra – the one for self acceptance and integration of opposites) and I was overwhelmed once again. Here, she realized I wasn’t dangerous. She realized that I’m just a baby.
“a baby lover”
I’m writing this almost a week after I first met her, trying to describe our encounter and I still feel the weight of the experience on me. We cried for a long time, and then I let her alone to think and write. I went out into the living room and cried on the couch some more. I tried to have a snack but I couldn’t decide on something. I drew a hot bath with jasmine oil, as hot as I could stand. The energy in my body was so focused and condensed in my core, I needed the hot, hot water to disperse it across my skin. After a few minutes, she knocked. “come in” I was glad to see her face, and look in her hazel eyes. We talked for a bit. She had spoken to her friends in town, and discovered that they, a couple, had also cried that day, overwhelmed with emotion. I felt reassured.
She brought me my towel and we dressed for dinner, exhausted, we went for sushi at a little Japanese restaurant by the university. After driving home in the rain and sharing a beer, we fell asleep around eleven – exactly 12 hours after we got up. I have not rested so deeply in a long time. She woke me at nine, wanting to get back to the other side of town to share another meal with her friends. I set the French press and we sat on the couch enjoying good, strong coffee in the sunlight that the sky finally let loose. On the sun’s day. This is where she tickled me. I’ve been known to punch people who tickle me, but it didn’t offend me, as it normally does. I kinda liked it, and felt totally adored.
Crave is slightly shorter than I am, quite a bit smaller than I am, but I felt very small around her. She’s ten years and four months older than me, an honest and respectful person. She spent the weekend in cords and t-shirts, relaxed. She kissed me goodbye at my car after lunch with her crew and lounging around at the house until they were ready to leave for the airport. I could have gone with them, to see them off, but I felt that our visit had come to a close. My time was up. So she kissed me and we thanked and hugged each other. As soon as their borrowed car was out of sight, I started crying again. I’d been holding it back all day. That’s when I called Jennie and asked to come over for some sweet wine and a cry. It’s been a long time since I cried for love. Years.
Not tragic, romantic love. At least, I don’t think. But love, nevertheless.
I feel as if I’ve met an old friend from a previous life. I trusted her instantly, incautiously, instinctively. But now, to be honest, I don’t know what to do with that connection. I want to see where it takes me, but she’s gone. As you read from my poem, she left nothing. I’ll just wait until our paths cross again. I hope that our next meeting is not too far off, but I will take whatever comes my way, even if I never see her hazel eyes again.