David Wiltse - Into The Fire

He seemed beyond himself, so out-of-control that he did not even know what he wanted from her beyond endless contact, as if he could not get enough of touching her, of kissing her, of holding her, and yet as if each touch and each position deprived him of another and so he went on and on, clutching and shifting with ceaseless abandon, and everything he did felt right and wonderful to Pegeen, so right and exciting that she was close to losing herself along with him.

She panted and moaned and found herself shaking her head from side to side as if she were being tortured, but it was a torture that she embraced and demanded and she cried out, uncertain what she was saying, and he responded, growling something low in his throat as his mouth attacked her face, her lips, her neck, her breasts.

They were nude at last and on the bed and her face was wet with his kisses and her own saliva and her breasts wailed with the pleasure of his mouth and hands and tongue and everything he did and every move he made seemed to gather in her loins and pull at her as if all the nerves in her body were gathered there and screaming and screaming for more, for release.

Still he didn't enter her but attacked her in a frenzy of hands and mouth, as if he would devour her before he took her. His passion was like a rage and Pegeen was frightened of it as much as she was excited by it. She didn't know what he wanted, what she could give him, and when she tried with her own mouth and hands to give him release he would move away from her, reposition himself and tear at her with pleasure again, too distracted, too delirious to seek relief.

At first Pegeen was too overwhelmed to let herself go completely; she held her innermost self in reserve while joining in his frenzy with;her senses, taking all the pleasure he had to give her while protecting her emotions.

She wasn't sure that all of this was for her, that she could have inspired so much heat and sexual fury, that he even knew who he had in his arms and under his tongue, it seemed beyond sex somehow, as if Becker were tormented by a devil who might express himself in sex but could never be fully found there. She did not want to give herself completely to a man who might not even know who he was with and she withheld as long as she could, but finally it was all too much for her, much, much too much and she came to his hand and she came to his mouth and it seemed that she came to his breath alone, screaming oW crying out his name and finally cursing and flailing as if her nerves and senses had taken control of her completely and would never stop and never let her go. And even at the height of her pleasure she was frightened because she had let herself go and had given herself over to him completely and she knew she was lost, lost and hopelessly gone from safety, in his grip and under his power.

Finally there was nothing for her but to have him and she demanded it, whispering at first that she wanted him, then calling out and pulling him onto her and into her and wrapping her legs to lock him in place.

Every thrust made her cry out and seemed to reverberate from her loins to her heart and she heard herself bellowing at him to continue, to do more and more and more and she said he was driving her crazy and she swore at him and cursed him with language of the gutter that astounded her as she heard it, but it was as if someone else were yelling, someone else were writhing on the bed and tearing at his back, someone who had lost her mind completely.

He seemed never to stop, never to tire, and Pegeen thought her body was on fire with sensation and wave after thrilling wave struck her and lifted her and bucketed her and she thought she would surely die and didn't care and finally, finally, with a growl growing low in his throat then building to a final burst that was a gasp as if his heart had ruptured, he shuddered to an end and at that very moment Pegeen was certain she felt everything he was feeling, doubling her own incredible sensation until it was simply too much to bear and she died.

Pegeen came to her senses astounded at herself, but far, far past embarrassment. She had never fainted in her life, but then she had never experienced anything like that in her life either. She did not know how long she had been passed out, or if he had noticed. In fact, she was still not convinced that he knew who she was; his need had seemed so great it was elemental rather than personal, but she had known who he was and even as she lay there, hoping he wouldn't speak for fear he might say the wrong thing, she knew she was in love with him.

His body was heavy upon her, his head still facedown next to her neck, where he had collapsed. Pegeen lay quietly, trying to distinguish his heartbeat from her own, his breathing from hers. She realized that all the lights were, on in the room and it surprised her because it had seemed that their lovemaking had taken place in the dark, all sensation and with nothing visual at all.

What happens now? she wondered, but before she could think any further she forced herself to stop. Whatever would happen, it would be no good, she knew that much without examining the problem, and there was no point in tormenting herself with it yet. There would be plenty and plenty of time for recrimination and sorrow.

When she touched him he moved, startled, as if she had awakened him, although she knew from his breath that he wasn't asleep. He jumped when touched without warning, she had noticed, even in the most casual of circumstances.

It seemed a puzzling trait in a man who was so aware of his surroundings and circumstances. Could a human touch be such a surprise to a man who seemed surprised by nothing?

When she ran her palm down his back she felt the enormous welts she had put there with her fingernails. She had never done that before, either, never been so heedless of her partner that she inflicted pain or damage.

All of her previous sexual encounters had been polite, she realized.

Which was one of the ways in which they had been inadequate. One of many. After three years with her last boyfriend, it had become so polite as to be downright formal.

Taking her touch for a signal, Becker withdrew and Pegeen realized with amazement that he was still hard.

"Are you all right?" she asked, finding it impossible to think that he wasn't satisfied.

Becker was amused. "It stays that way sometimes," he said, holding himself over her on his hands and knees.

"How long?"

He laughed. "I've never timed it."

He fell back onto the bed on his back, close to Pegeen but no longer touching her. To maintain contact, she put her arm across him, placed her cheek on his chest.

They lay in silence while all the things she might say raced through Pegeen's mind and she edited them and rejected them one after the other.

What she wanted to say was simple enough, she wanted to tell him that she loved him and she knew he didn't love her but that was all right, at least for the moment, because she was swamped with what she was feeling and didn't need to know how he felt, not for this second, at least, maybe longer, maybe for hours, maybe a day. She doubted it could be a day. But for just right now she loved him completely and that was more than enough and she yearned to tell him, just that, she was bursting with the need to tell him that. I don't want to frighten you, she rehearsed silently, and you don't need to respond, but I just want to say that I love you.

You don't have to answer, just know it and accept it, it's a gift I want to give you with no strings attached. And that wasn't entirely true, either, she realized, so she rejected that version because there were strings, there were hundreds of strings attached. Besides, she already realized that if he didn't say he loved her, too, it would break her heart. So much for the selfless part, she thought. It hadn't lasted very long. She amended what she wanted to say: I love you and want desperately for you to love me, too, but if you don't, I still love you anyway. But that sounded hopelessly wimpy, as if she were just asking to be taken advantage of, so she rejected that, too. Just say I love you, she thought, and the hell with the qualifiers, and let him respond how he will. But she didn't want to lose control over his response completely, so she didn't say anything even though her tongue was on fire with the need to say it.