Coming Home Celebration

I was surrounded by a few familiar faces, and some new ones I didn't quite recognize. Shuffling around, a bit unsure of how the evening would go, I walked away from the bar with my favorite comfort brew, ready to dive into socializing and what conversation comes with it. I was just about to sit down, and then I saw him -- those absolutely beautiful eyes, full and sensuous lips and curly black hair in all his glory. We locked eyes and immediately I was reminded of years ago, when I would pine as a young lady for even a glimmer of attention from this boy. Now, the boy has grown into a gorgeous man with a rock-hard dick and enough guts to approach me, hold me, kiss me. Me, a now-married woman.

Throughout the evening, we mingled, in the proper fashion. That is, rotations were made through the crowds of people who had gathered together from numerous geographic locales, back home for the holidays. Catching up on news of family, spouses, children... chit chat. It was great. Wonderful conversation was had. Delicious food and drink made everyone merry.

Toward the end of the night before closing time, the group of gentlemen who were entertaining me (friends from highschool, mind you) decided they were ready to leave -- to hit the local stripclub. Naturally, I vocalized my own desire to go with them, on the condition that Beauty Eyes accompany us. He agreed, and so we went. In the back seat, I squeezed into the middle seat between him and another friend, and off we went. The club itself was just I had imagined strip clubs should be. Red velvet rockers, a center stage with poles going all the way up to the 2nd story ceiling, tables surrounding the raised dance floor. Oh and of course, naked chicks shaking their tits.

There I was, at a strip club, attended by five men. I saw all sorts of pussy. Surreal was part of the feeling, drunk was another. These men, three of whom were old friends, two others -- complete strangers. And I was having the time of my life. They paid for me to enjoy a lap-dance. Amazing fun. An innocent lap-dance, but fun nonetheless. And she groped my tits. Yeah, that was nice.

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"So, you're married?" Snippets in chronology come to me in scattered sounds, images, the smell of his skin and hair, the taste of his lips, the pressure of his tongue. At one point, we were sitting next to each other and I can not recall a single thing we talked about -- just one glorious extended moment in time, swimming in his beautiful eyes. His face balanced inches away from mine; our breath dancing those intimate steps of suspension-between-inhalations.

I'm not sure how it began exactly... the playfulness of our fingertips were aware of their games long before either of us became cognizant of what was happening. "Do you feel guilty?" How can I find room for such an emotion when my body is overflowing with desire and passion? The passion is real and every cell that comprises my being is thrilled to be awakened.

I could see that he was seeing demons as he leaned his head against the backrest of my car. What is wrong, what is right, I challenge my own sense of morality and bring it to the fore in others. Our bodies fit snug against one another. He says he seems to always somehow get himself into impossible situations.

Earlier during dinner, there was a brief pause when all dinner conversation seemed to ebb out of my consciousness, receding to the background and what came into focus was him -- his face, his lips, his eyes. He didn't look away, nor was he one bit agitated. We stared like that for a good bit of time, and suddenly that smile of mine -- the one that creeps up from the center of my sexual being -- radiated, like a moonbeam, from me to him. His reception was unambiguous. I knew at that moment that something larger than a shared history of kinsmanship was dancing between us.

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waves overtaking me. I see your mouth adorning my body, electric shocks emanating throughout my limbs. lingering touch, your ghost kisses repeatedly taunting me as I quietly receive these physical manifestations of these precious memories. your slender fingers rasp against my skin, and that tight grip on my hair guides me to do your bidding. the force of your kiss, your tongue between my ever-awaiting lips, drives me into a passionate fury that rushes the hours past. our bodies moving synchronously and your hand moves near my mouth. a finger finds its way to my lips, and there is nothing I want more than to take you into my mouth. teasing with every lick, you watch as I slowly allow another tiny bit of skin slip past my lips, entering into that warm darkness. your flesh is sweet to me.

flash. your tongue is teasing my nipple. watching you give me pleasure sends me over the brink of fantasy and here you are. and here we are. undeniably, the forceful nature of our passions create an incredible field of sensuality that surrounds our bodies infinitely. yours are whispered words that flow gently past me, the sound of your voice incredibly humble and generous. your lips are magnificent. our kisses, a prolonged exploration of the topography of our bodies. I hear my voice warning an echo that bounces around in my head, "be careful with this one. you're making love right now, even without penetration. this is a dangerous place to be."

I can not stop. our hunger for each other is massive. our bodies move without conscious critique. we are in a place of beauty, and I can not stop. I must go. I do not want to stop, but I must go.

I have the feeling I have overwhelmed him. I fear he will force himself to forget any connection that we made. I fear that the treacherous waters of my adulterous reality present too much conflict for his harmonious, dedicated and honest life. But the beauty we create together is absolutely undeniable.