A week without sex – too busy, too stressed, too sad to even get myself off in the shower. A serious lack that I feel in my bones, but at the end of the day I am sticky with sweat and bone tired. I am touched-out and depleted after caring for kids, dogs, chickens, gardens, house and home. I love these things, but my cup is empty. As a brilliant woman once said, I need a little a little sugar in my bowl.
The air presses against my skin like damp socks in hiking boots. I chafe against the weather and a sudden change in plans that threatens to prevent me from running away with Harold for a few hours. I need to unwind. I need to be the center of someone’s full attention for longer than a sentence. I long to be stroked and kissed and free of need. Our eyes meet over the head of our loquacious child and I know that he feels it too. We both pray for a release.
And we get it. Our planets align after all. We are quick to be out the door and into the forest. I feel lighter already. The atmosphere is different under the trees. With each step, I make an effort to let go of my stress. I picture myself as a tree shedding leaves, old dried up cares that no longer nourish me. It starts to rain.
I need to experience the rain with my whole body. Off go all of the clothes. We lie side by side, naked, as big warm drops fall. Finally my walls come down and I start to cry. His fingertips trace a pattern on my stomach, but he lets me have my space. I know he is with me. The rain washes everything away.
My mind drifts, blessedly free of the need to perform, while Harold’s hands caress my body. This is what I’ve needed – to be able to let go and have my love hold the space for a few moments. I come back to myself and lay on top of him, my skin hungry for more contact. My back is caressed by the light rain. I look into Harold’s eyes and see the whole world.
It still takes me a while to get to a place where I want to go further, despite a strong desire for intercourse. I’m on my period and I don’t really want him to go down on me, even though sometimes I love the messiness of it. Today is different, but we get me off anyway, with the canopy of green leaves above and his kisses on my breasts and his fingers inside me and the rain coming down.
Harold breaks the tension in my body like the rain broke the oppressive humidity. I come in twinges and spasms before letting the huge waves pass through my body. We both ride that wave as far as it goes.
Finally, I am wanting to give to him. His cock feels good in my mouth. I like the pressure on the roof of my mouth, the friction of movement, my tongue tracing the ridge of the head. This is where I feel closest to the divine. I could do this for hours but I start to ache for a different kind of fullness.
He enters me and I am riveted by his eyes. I often close my eyes in throes of passion, the experience being largely internal, but not now. I need to see him. I feel so raw. I am penetrated, pinned by cock and gaze, and it permeates some place inside me that has been unable to feel loved. I caress his face and he doesn’t look away. It feels almost unbearably honest to fuck this way. There is no place to hide.
It’s getting harder for him to meet my eyes as he get close to coming. His face contorts, eyes squeeze shut. For an instant I feel everything – the pulse of my cunt welcoming his cock and ready to take his jism, the trees and the forest around us, the sky and the rain kissing my skin, and the entire universe out there – and then my awareness collapses back to Harold’s hoarse cries as he thrusts into me. There is only this moment. I want it to go on forever.
We can’t get closer than this (but every time I think that, we find a way to get closer). My heart is wide open. I am so in love. Suddenly we are laughing and reality reinstates itself. We are covered in tears, sweat, menstrual blood, cum, and glorious rain. There are mosquitos. It’s getting dark and cold and we need to go home.