Chapter Seventeen – A Twist Of Fate
by Christine Wild
He was going down on me and I was going down on him. I was surprised at how easily I multitasked whilst still enjoying every movement he made. I was so tired; my focus was blurry; all I remember is his tongue slowly hitting my clit as his fingers thrust so deeply. I feel shivers writing this. He had his mind set. He had a goal. I was so responsive. The delusion from the lack of sleep, overload of emotion and utter inability to comprehend what I had done to myself were all that I knew at that point. He kept jabbing, precisely, right there. I died a little bit every time. I was trying to suck, but after I while I could not do anything but fall at his hands. I was panting, moaning, and groaning. My legs were leaving my body. I was losing control and for the first time I did not mind. For the first time, there was no control left in me. My entire body was separating from my brain, in a sort of evanescent fashion. I told him not to stop. I did not say the words. I mean I did, but they came out of somewhere that I did not control. He kept doing exactly what the voice coming out of me was telling him to do. His tongue was wet, gliding like velvet, stroking me. His hands reached into my soul; I could feel it in my gut. My stomach was shuddering. Finally, the voice took control of the body. I slammed him down, jumped on top of him, swiftly sliding him as deep as I could, inside of me. I had control, I lifted myself up and down rhythmically, maintaining our bodies stuck together right where they needed to, but I had no control. Something stronger than me took over. It was speeding up; it was gearing up for the finish line, leaving me totally unaware. I was out of… out of breath… It could not possibly go on like this—I could not possibly withstand more of this. It did not stop. He was staring at me, focused, set on his goal. He was grunting too, joining me in this maddening feeling of want. I was unaware, dreaming; there might even have been singing in my head. And it hit. It hit and my entire body convulsed. The tremor consumed my every ounce of being. A loud laughter emerged from my mouth. I could hear my breath. It was rugged and broken, as if I was sobbing. I rolled over because my legs were unable to sustain my weight. I needed air… I needed…
The giggle. It would not stop. I giggled. I was overwhelmed and giggling.
There it was. I had finally stopped thinking. The man had literally consumed my last thought until all I had left to offer was complete surrender. All I could possibly do was abandon myself in the mistake, miracle, blessing, or horrible error, whatever this was. I bombed the midterm because of him. I would never have let myself do that at any other point for any other man. So I gave up, I surrendered to whatever had dictated me to give in, to forgive, to love at a price, to booty-call when really all I should have done was run. So I ran, but straight at the wall. I said: Fine, Tornado, take me, I’m all yours to swallow and spit right back out, destroyed, disheveled, eaten.
I was giggling. “What are you thinking about?” he said. “I’m not: I’m staring at that corner, I’m staring at the top of my closet’s door.” I giggled. “Hallelujah!” he exclaimed. I rolled around, still shivering and shaking. The pleasure was of epic proportions. I was blank with bliss.
I had to stand up to go to the bathroom and I nearly crumbled. I was high, high on life, high on SEX! I walked around to get water and just felt, inside and out, like a zombie. A happy one, and overwhelmed one, but a zombie nonetheless. The ecstasy. That is the word. “Intense delight, intense feeling, and loss of self-control.” I was in ecstasy. Now, are you going to tell me what that was supposed to mean, life? Why him, why now? This had to be sudbina. It do not know what else to call it. On that October afternoon, he gave me my very first orgasm.
“Aren’t you going to text your girlfriends? Aren’t you going to scream at the top of your lungs? Liam did this! He climbed Mount Kilimanjaro!” He laughed. “No, nobody knows you’re here, remember? We don’t like you right now.” Oh my god. He did though; he did do it. I mean I did it. I was in a particular set of circumstances, a particular state of mind (or rather lack there of) and I had conquered my own brain. Yet life had managed to somehow intractably link him to it. Now I knew I would not forget his name, not even twenty years down the line when he will have become a stranger, a passing name, a phase of self-torture in my twenties. No, he was the first to do that. Certainly not the last, and I will one day be able to give them to myself, but he was the first. He gave me the taste of it. Oh, yes, right I did not tell you yet, dear reader. No, that’s right. I am unable to get there on my own, for now. I mean I get close; I get almost there. Every time. But never do I cross the finish line. Never do I get to say “I’m gonna cum.” I just don’t. So no, the many, many, many men before him, none did. (Sorry guys!) I can still distinguish the good from the bad ones, but all of them failed me. It does surprise me that in my plentiful sexual dances, not one came to blow my brains out – literally. Not one of them had a trick, not one of them was surprising. I knew the moves; I had studied them. It is fascinating that patterns emerge amongst men, in their most private of behaviors. Yet, I cannot really blame them, when I do not even know how to get there myself. My problem is my brain. This brain, writing this paragraph today, it has second-guessed every word, every coma, every semi-colon. It over-analyzes every little detail. It remembers every single color, every word, every smell. It allows me to be the excellent student that I am, the semi-efficient writer that I would like to become. It just does not like to lose control. It is a hard thing, fighting your own self, to make space for the ultimate pleasure. And yes, I enjoy sex without orgasms. Hell, that’s all I had known. I still do. I love it. I revel in it. Every time something feels good, I get to analyze why and how: double the pleasure! But ecstasy… I just met her. She is still a stranger, and I am in love. I am sincerely hoping this infatuation informs my sanity that it is due for a vacation.