Darling Darth
I sit here on the thick springy mattress atop the old wrought iron bed, waiting patiently for a fate that eludes me. remember the wrought iron bed? In fact do you remember those days at all? They seem so long ago. Many many years ago. A different time, a different age. But the sweetness of that age never escapes my memory. The small village. I in my draped saree that you thought was over-washed and sun-dried. But you loved the smell of the earth and the rain back then. The way you quietly crept up behind me always, your arms encircling me and pulling me back against you. The strength of your arms squashing my breasts, making me breathless just to feel your taut body against mine.
You would unhook the blouse from behind me, and before I ever understood how, it would be lying on the ground or flung to some corner of the room.You loved my breasts. They used to be so full and round in your palms, and my nipples would graze against the coarseness of your hands. You fingers pinching them, calloused fingertips teasing the aureoles. Always teasing. Even that time you took me on the train and jumped off in the middle of a desert! You wanted me to take all my clothes off and dance naked in the sand to the music only you could hear. All I heard was the wind, and you told me that was the music. I danced like the devil was in me, my breasts bouncing wildly. But I treasured most the sense of security when I leant against your body, your arms surrounding me, the hardness of your crotch against my buttocks and thighs as I gyrated at the mercy of the devil.
Dear Nami,
Of course I remember it all. In fact, if I could, I would relive the dancing dervish in the desert. So hot. And yet so soothing. So gentle. When I pressed hard against the soft muslin that precariously sheathed your ass and thighs, I remember your fingers gingerly probing beneath the zippered front of my jeans. In that wide open space, I felt you grope. Your fingers played at tip of my engorged penis, then slid down the length of my shaft till you felt the tickle of thorny undergrowth. My testicles rolled gently in the palm of your hand as mine grabbed your large pendulous boobs. I could never get enough of them. I could bury my face in your boobs for ever.
Yes, I knelt before you then. My breath was coming in sharp bursts; I wanted you in me so much. Before we moved to the urban jungle where I knew I must follow you. But in that hot smothering summer, I took you in my mouth as deep as you would go. I gagged and was willing to die if you wanted to choke me. But my pleasure was yours. Like you told me in the green forest of another youth: your pleasure was mine.
Yes, I remember drinking from your deepest inner recesses. Like the origin of a spring that would grow to be a gushing torrentous river, I discovered the lonely source of your beauty. And I drank the life giving nectar as you stood above me, your thighs flanked my head as I bent back and sucked the honeyed juices of your life.
And then I followed you to the big city. The lights and the catwalk. The fame and the money. The richness I always craved for. The power you always warned against. The power to corrupt. But you took me there, didn't you. I remained your slave. But you took me in a way it never used to be. In the village it was different. It was gentle. It was calm. It was natural. But here in the concrete jungle, you raped me. You plundered and ruptured my very being. You took me in every conceivable fashion; brutally and savagely. You tortured me with your own power, a power I was unable to comprehend or defy. A power that enslaved me. My darling, you should have left me to die. Instead you just left me.
Yes Nami. I raped you and plundered your very soul. That was your new world. The glamour and the glitz, and the price that came with. But sexually they were new times for me as well. Taking you in the ass was new. Forcing my heated cock down your throat till you almost choked to death was new. Tying you to the wall and ramming myself into every orifice of yours was new. I was new. And you knew it Namitha, you knew. You wanted more of that craven erotica than anything. You wanted the pleasure of the pain. You wanted to be ravaged by a beast. And I gave you, like I always have, what you wanted, Namitha.
Could I have given you more, my darling. My sweetest lover. What could I have given you more? I gave you my love and I gave you my body. Then you wanted my soul and I gave you that and my spirit. I finally gave you my life to do with as you pleased. You wanted to fuck me, and I let you. Not just my body. Me. Me. My very Self. I gave selflessly for you to take.
And now I wait. Your Nami waits for your return. Some day. Somehow. Please!
Post a Comment