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The Paradox of Proximity
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The Paradox of Proximity There exists a fine line, often hardly the breadth of a razors edge, between what is commonly understand as either love or hate. Emotions raw, untamed, confused, unsorted, wild, fickle, volatile and at fever pitch rise and swell to flood stage standing ever ready to surge outward as the dam strains, about to burst. While the easily bruised will shrink back in terror and fear, the strong of heart live for the challenges of life and ready themselves to ride the waves to the sand, or to be lost to the rocks and the sea, yet another victim of Fate, depending on the vacillating turn of the tides. He knew she wasn’t really upset with him, not yet anyway, but at the present rate and in the current direction of travel it wouldn’t be long. He was however near, available and as usual, too much male for the good of either of them. On a ‘normal’ day his playful bantering and glib behavior would have lightened the mood and diffused the situation quickly. Today however, it was obviously the wrong approach. He wisely stifled his usual and mischievous smile as he recalled hearing her saying countless times, “If it has testicles or tires it’s gonna’ cause me trouble.” For her, this day had far too much of both and coincidently enough, he was the caretaker of just those things; the fire within had been ignited. He stood briefly but for a moment as he faced off with her in the kitchen and wondered how and why her feisty demeanor could arouse him so ardently. Her face was flushed with emotion and the sparks behind those brilliant sapphire spheres generated the most glorious hues of contrasting lavender he had ever seen, as the ardor in her voice both seared and awakened parts of him he hadn’t realized slumbered. He nearly smiled openly as he was beginning to think he must be out of his mind. ‘My god’, he thought to himself, ‘she is so beautiful when she’s like this.’ Throwing caution to the wind and with the courage of Zeus he took two bold steps in her direction wishing at the last moment he indeed possessed a lightning bolt for his own protection and self preservation. It wasn’t his intent to startle her in that manner as the closed door suddenly thwarted her retreat from his advance. He paused and gazed into the stunned eyes of this semi-captive wildcat before him and in a single movement brought his hands to the sides of her face and parting his lips he pressed them firmly against hers. She pressed her small clenched hands against his chest in a half-hearted effort to push him away and he simply held her and kissed her again. She pushed harder this time and still he held her, pressing his roused loins against her. He kissed her once more before releasing her. She thumped her small fists against his chest and breathed “Damn you anyways”, and proceeded to wrap her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her lips. She kissed him with the pent up store of energy that had been boiling inside her all day as the freed beast charged assertively from her cave. Nimble fingers made short work of his buttons and her soft warm hands slid up through the hair of his chest and pulled his shirt down and off over his wide shoulders. His hands gripped under and around her womanly backside as he pulled their heated bodies closer while kneading her desirable flesh. Slowly and with purpose he glided his hands to her waist and hooking her sweater with his thumbs, he preceded upward along her ribs grazing her breasts as she lifted her arms over her head. He caught her wrists and pinned them to the door as he dropped her top to the floor and continued to toy with her mouth, grinding himself against her. One of his hands held her wrists skyward and the other loosed her breasts from their feminine confines as his free hand delicately explored them. He could smell the heady aroma of her musky wetness sifting into his senses as it gradually darkened the crotch of her jeans. Her face had suddenly become very warm and she both smelled and tasted of sex as she grabbed at his belt and then pulled down his zipper to expose what was straining diligently to be freed. He guided them somewhat gracefully around the corner and as soon as he felt carpet, he gently bent her to the floor like warmed taffy. She undid her jeans and in a singular motion, he peeled them from her like a skin from a sun ripened banana, panties and all, and tossed them into a knotted pile across the room before stepping free from his own and kicking them aside. She lifted and parted her knees and he lowered himself upon her and again found her lips before sliding the engorged head of his manhood though her slippery trough of wantonness. He kissed her mouth and massaged the fleshy covering of her pearl with his rigid extension while she moaned as one possessed before entering her. At her flowing entrance he began to tease but she encircled his waist, locked her ankles together in a death grip and forced him deeply inside her with a single upward thrust. He took her and he took her hard as she met his every movement with one of her own. The rise and fall of their bodies was as a small helpless craft caught in the great swells of the mighty ocean. She tensed and he knew she was bridging the gulf of ecstasy as guttural sounds from deep within her were swallowed by him and her convulsions gripping around him sent shivers of intense and pleasurable sensations deep into his belly. Raking her blood red nails along the flesh of his back was all it took to send him over the edge and he erupted almost violently into her as their mouths remained fused together. She pulled the small blanket from the couch over them as they lay there together in each other’s arms, in the warm glow of the moment and of the late afternoon sun shining in through the west window. They rested there in and amongst the wet, the carnage, and the spillage. He closed his eyes against the fading rays of light as she lightly traced her finger tips through the ever whitening hair on his chest and tenderly kissed his ear. “I’m still mad at you, you know.” she whispered. “I know”, he replied. “There’s always tomorrow.” Sometimes it’s about romance, candlelight and roses, and sometimes, it’s about no more than answering the call of the wild... H.  MOOD: SHAMELESS © 2009 Horny4770  |
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 by tomorrow she will have forgotten what she was mad about  I love when this happens and you wrote about is so damn good 
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MMmmmmm....Make-Up Sex! It can be the best!  I don't know if it's the fact that you're not supposed to be even thinking these thoughts, or the slight resistance you may encounter. All I know is that I have been known to cause a row or pretend I'm not in a good mood, just so I can have make-up sex.  Sometimes passionate and almost 'animalistic' desires need satisfying too.  xxWacky Jacky 
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