Wobbling the Universe

Author :- TenWays ToTouch June 25, 2020, 4:30 p.m.
Wobbling the Universe

The title for this story comes from an article written in 2017 by Andrew Griffith, published in the Independent. Two stars crash into each other, wobbling the universe and flinging out huge amounts of gold. It’s an interesting article to be sure and it parallels well with the effect the two main characters have on one another here. Dull, heavy before, exploding, vibrant, “golden” after.

Perhaps more interesting, the inspiration for this piece came from Marcela. If you haven’t clicked over to her blog to check it out you really are missing out on some wonderful juicy bits. It’s sort of like read-tasting a pomegranate. I like to take it in small bites, lest I explode. Each post bursting with flavor.

In any case, Marcela recently wrote a “not a love letter” post on her blog, and I thought, “Perhaps I could do the same”. So I sat down to write and was immediately crippled by the lack of originality I felt adopting another writer’s format. Then I read it again and thought “What does this post make me feel?” Desire. Lust. Want. A dark, smoky tendril of an idea snaked into my brain. “What might happen if they both overcame their fear?”

When I imagined this it played like one of those shorts that you used to see at the beginning of Pixar films except it wasn’t animated, was a whole lot dirtier, and came in flashes. My minds eye opened and closed with each pause. Enjoy…

I behold your gaze daily from across the tracks. You sit on your bench and I sit on mine. We pretend not to notice one another. We see the trees, the weather. We notice the stench of industrial life, the exhaust, the food odors, the common, cloing filth that comes with the crowded press of humanity.

We feel the frigid breeze, the kiss of rain, and the cold sun, each in turn on our respective, separate skins. We hear the noises of the city, the incessant clang and clack of wheels on tracks, the horns, the murmur of conversation, the lurching, irregular cry of civilization. We taste the dry grit, the blowing, despoiled sand in the air, the toxic, metallic tang of joyless existence.

We glance everywhere, always, anywhere but…There you are! No! Did she glance back? What must she think of me? Every day, staring, trying hard not to stare…Daily, I imagine the universe that is you. I must be some kind of freak. You will tire of me and find a new bench. It is inevitable…but I will search for you nonetheless, resigned at your absence.

It has been weeks now…You’re still there. Your bright auburn hair the only color in my existence. Wait!! Did she just smile?…Awkward wave, smile back. You giggle, and your train arrives…abandoning me to my thoughts, my boundless imagination. Oh the possibilities amassed in you!

Next day, a purposeful wave, and I wave back. Not so awkward this time, casual, relaxed. I know you, you know me…we occupy a space in each other’s routine. Yet, I imagine so much more…In my mind we’ve dated, we adore one another, we’ve fucked in a thousand ways, each more exquisite than the last. We’ve everything in common. I’ve built an impossible pedestal for you, an Everest that no one can hope to climb.

Then…you are gone. The weeks carry on, endless, and slowly I forget. New strangers come and go across your bench. The tiny ray of light you brought extinguished by the whims of fate, abetted by my own timidity. I resign myself, give over to the emptiness, and carry on with my small life…

You’ve returned! But you are not…you. A darkness has crept in. I can smell it all these yards away. Taste the sorrow on the wind. You are shifty, shy, unkept. I mourn your loss, privately…and slowly, over the course of days I become disgusted…with…myself? My resolve hardens like a youth gazing upon a nude maiden for the first time. Hard, erect, lustful, fervent. Something must be done about you. You are far to wonderful to linger in this state.

I relish the shock, the pause in your step, the hitch in your breath as you round the corner for I am not on my bench today, but on yours. You stand, utterly thunderstruck, and I begin to fear I’ve overstepped. Will you bolt and run, take flight like a startled bird? Then, your shoulders relax, you breath, smile, and walk over. I’ve played this moment a million times in my head…and here it is!…I’ve lost my lines…What to say?!! But you smile, sit down, relish the shock that plays across my face.

“Coffee?”, I croak. You smile and nod…take my hand as we board the train. My world lights up. The sun, no longer cold, warms my skin. The scent of the restaurant down the street is suddenly intoxicating. The birds sing in the trees. I taste…possibility. Suddenly, everything is bright and vibrant, pulsing with color. I find myself staring in shock at your hand, at the singular sensation of its warmth, tangled with mine, the source of all of this sudden vibrance and I am nearly overcome.

We rush breakfast. Conversation starts awkwardly, the weather, where are you from, what do you do, the basics. Then, the bottom falls out, the conversation turns, deeper, pouring like a torrent, unstoppable, unassailable. You lost your job, your husband cheated, you left, you want, you need… I, so lonely, so empty, my goals, dreams, cravings… Pause. The moment stretches. Tension flares. Too far??You peck at your muffin.

I wolf down my bagel, cream cheese dripping unbecomingly from the corner of my mouth. You giggle, reach across, and wipe the offending dribble. I am blinded by your touch. Utterly, completely, taken by it. My field of vision narrows, expands as I absorb the shockwaves. Then, you put your cream cheese coated finger gently into your mouth and give me an innocent smile as you suck, lightly upon it.

My brain explodes. My consciousness evaporates in balefire. I cannot think. I can only feel, react. My reptilian brain takes hold, pushes me forward and I stand, lean across the table, grab your face roughly with both hands, and fuck your mouth with mine until we are both breathless…panting. Everyone stops to stare, gawking uncontrollably at our audacity as we momentarily return to earth. Then, blushing, we do it again. Applause, an amused glance from the manager, cash on the table, and we hurry to leave.

We are caught in a whirlwind of lust and desire, hungry, starving, insatiable. Your flat is closer. We hail a cab, climb in, your address, then hands…everywhere. Your mouth is locked onto mine. Our tongues dance, lips wide open, caress. You’re hot, pressed against me. Your scent envelopes me. There is only you. Your hands on my chest, my cock.

The sensation of your heaving breasts planted against me. Your slick, wet, burning pussy. My fingers grasp within you as you hump desperately against my knee. Then, we arrive. Cash tossed at the driver, door left open, disheveled, sprinting up the stairs to your flat.

Your shirt and bra come off before the door even closes. Boxes everywhere as we stumble toward the bedroom, clothing falling like leaves from a tree in a fall gale. Headlong rush onto the sheets. We’re naked, ravenous, and nothing to hold us back. Pause. We gaze at the feast laid before us, admiring it, glistening, slick, wet, and hard.

Then, you kneel before me, grab my cock, and lean in. Suddenly, unexpectedly,….control. I lean back. “Not yet kitten”. You smile and gaze up at me, barely controlling your urge to plunge my shaft into all of your tight, wet places as I do the same. I pull you to your feet. Kiss you hard, carry you, arrange you on the bed like rose petals before a long anticipated tryst. Frantic glance around the room…There! Your bathrobe.

I pull the soft velvety belt from the waistband, bind your arms crosswise, together, over your head while I lean over you. I am straining, pressed against your hot, needful flesh, and it is all I can do to bring myself back to task, to the moment. I hold your arms down, kiss you, gently bite your neck. You shiver and gasp, goosebumps alighting everywhere. I kiss my way down your body, licking, sucking, biting, caressing, grabbing.

You squirm, move your arms and I stop, shake my head. “Forbidden”. You sigh in frustration as I descend, taste your nectar. You gasp, moan, writhe on the bed, beg. You bring your arms down, hold me against you and I stop, lift your hands back up, pin them down, and gaze meaningfully into your eyes. You giggle.

I growl, flip you over, and spank your exposed and waiting ass, softly at first, and then harder as you press back toward me, until angry hand-shaped redness blossoms and you melt my assault with two whispered words. They are spoken softly but embued with oceans of need.

They gather the moment, imploding, splintering, the force of them bowls me over, boils my soul in a pungent stew of lust. “Fuck me”, you pant. I turn you over again, press my cock rigid against your sex, and gaze fervently into your depthless eyes as I slide ever so slowly inside of you, losing myself. You gasp, overcome, tears streak down your face as I back out, slide in, watching, straining to hold back. I thrust, hard, banging and grinding against your clit and you scream, loudly, sobbing with need of release and I cover your mouth.

I pause, “Not yet kitten”. You nod, gasping and pushing against me as I resume. You’re clawing at me. Rending my back, your nails drawing blood and it drives me harder into you. Deep. Hard. Thrusts. You are becoming desperate, neither of us can hold out much longer. “Come for me kitten”.

I release your mouth and thrust, faster, pushing into you as you grind against me and scream your orgasm, shattering the quiet of your apartment, convulsing and bucking, biting the sheets as you come and come. I close my eyes and focus every effort at holding on. And then…I can’t. I pull out, explode across your chest, moaning, gasping, growling. I am out of control, animalistic, blacking out from release as I pulse and spray thick jets of hot cum all across your chest.

Then, collapse, sobbing against you, my cum smearing across our chests, slick, sticky, welding us together as we sob in one another’s arms. First for release. The crush of emotions, confusing, overwhelming, consuming. Then, out of mourning, for all the moments lost, the times we could have been wrapped in one another’s embrace, denied by disbelief.

Eventually, we wake, gaze into one another’s eyes. Part. Return. Days spent desperate, bereft, like an addict starving for a fix. Incomplete, inconsolable, and soulless when apart. Than alive, replete, vigorous, and immortal when tangled together. You are everything. All that is.

We unite, move in, join forces, laugh and cry together. In bed we are surgeons of pleasure, plying with pinpoint accuracy we twist the knife. Contorting pleasure into pain and pain into pleasure. Effortless, natural, perfect. I can drive you to orgasm with barely a glance and you can gut me, bowl me over, bleeding cum with only a flick of your finger.

Then, the burdens come. Can I be this thing, for you, forever? I am terrified of failing and I cocoon, build walls. You rip through them. I punish you for your need, push you sobbing into the bed, hammering away. Then, I realize the absurdity of what I am doing and I hold you, sobbing. Aftercare. Soft, gentle caress, quiet, gentle, lovemaking. Love…

Desperate, grasping, holding, clinging to you and you to me, open, honest, naked, boundless, one. Memories cascade…mountains, oceans, forests, roads, the sweep of continents…faster and faster imbued within you…then slower…drinks, parties, laughter, shared partners, glorious orgasms, sleepless nights, and languid days until we…wrinkle…

We age, we fade like a wilting picture overtaken by flame. The screen goes dark. The film projector slows…clack…..clack……..clack. Stillness. Darkness.

Photo by Nguyen Thu Hoai on Unsplash