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Aids Memorial Quilt
Keeping watch, twenty years later

Pillow Stories


by Bluette Mayfield

We meet for the first time at Wood. I sit on the same side with her in the corner booth, my favorite and usual spot. How many women have I kissed right here in this very spot? Openly, publicly, hungrily? I don't tell her. She says her name is Linda but I already know it's a lie.

She looks older than her photos. She says little, fidgets, beats her foot nervously and continuously, looks around behind me as we are talking. There is an enormous sadness radiating from her. I want to gather her up and fuck her to make her forget, but I know she won't let me. I am wearing heels and stockings, a short black dress which hugs my body. I am on my way to a dance. I adore women of a certain type-- this type. She is channeling James Dean and Elvis. Jeans white tee shirt hair slicked back, a sensual curl to her lip. She's a townie. I'm a geek. I already want her.

I slide my face up close beside her cheek and say what's that scent? It hardly matters what she answers -- she turns her head and gives me her tongue. It is soft and sweet and promises me what I already know. I already know how it will be and I want her.

The next night I go to her place.

She has longer hair which she lets loose in bed. She is butch and femme and some nameless other. Athletic, pierced belly button, creamy generous breasts, unexpectedly vulnerable against her tan. She is dominant; she will always be dominant.

I lie on top of her and kiss her harshly hungrily wetly. She smiles. My thigh is between her legs and she moves gently against it. I kiss her breasts and her raspberry nipples. She doesn't move. I put my hand on her cunt; she pushes it away. Her body tells me she is turned on but I don't know what she wants. She is here I am here we are wet and wanting I don't know anything anymore. You can fuck me any way you want, take me any way you want I say to her. Her smile gets wider. She strokes my cunt softly, finding her way to my clit. I am wet impatient hungry open. She straps on and enters me. Soft slow deep hard moaning wide with want; my mouth is next to her ear is it good? do you like this? is this what you want? tell me this is good...she says yes I want to fuck you....I beg her to put her whole hand inside me. She kneels on the bed and enters me with two three four finger; fucks me like that for so long I can't wait. I grab her hand and add her thumb and say go just go. She pushes into me and I am gasping full arched bodyless mindless somewhere else entirely. She fucks me deeply and slowly with her fist; she puts her mouth on my clit; she knows all about it; I am her prisoner; she has been here before she has always been here she will always be here, keeping me on this exquisite edge; when I finally give it up, it is with a sob of relief and sorrow.

We lie in a tangle of liquids and limbs. She is beautiful. Her mouth is drawing me again, but her eyes are closed and she is far away in some other memory. I am desperate to taste her; she needs me at the same time to find her arousal. We create a circle of energy ... we have our mouths on each other at the same time. She tastes like spring. I am on top; she is under me and I am holding her close to me; she is very wet and her clit is big under my tongue. I run my finger slowly, over and over, against the roof of her cunt until she is spongy and swollen...she plays with my ass and I am shooting on her face. It elevates my arousal tenfold. She doesn't know this, has never ejaculated, doesn't know it is different from orgasm. She is not expecting it and I don't warn her. She says she likes it, that it tastes like crystal meth. I say I wouldn't know.

I am ready again...or ready still...and she is insatiable. She is still wearing the strap on...I offer her my ass. She smiles...saddle up, she says. She is eager; I bend over in front of her, my vulnerable position exciting me even more. The head of her strap on is against my ass...go slow I say...let me swallow it slowly. I want it, I want her, want to feel her inside of me, but it is big...she pushes against me and I bear down a little back to her. The head slides just a little inside...stop now...wait, I say...just hold there. I play with my clit and my ass relaxes enough to allow another half inch. Deep inside my belly I start to feel a want; I need to feel her there. I need to feel her there...everything I think she is will center there and I want her and I want no one else just this woman; I imagine her strap on is actually her clit and that she is feeling me on her and aroused inside of me; my ass swallows another inch and she is past the gate; it only remains for her to push into me, which she does softly slowly and now she is fucking me and I am touching my clit; she tells me in my ear how much she is fucking me and how good it is; and now someone is moaning and I no longer know sound nor space, just the unbelievable want of having her inside of me, deep in my belly, deep in her arousal, she is love, she is desire, she is everything to me now, and she is fucking me now with long sweet strokes and someone is crying out I think it is her I think it is me I think it is the universe finally finding its own meaning and I am wordless; and then I am coming, screaming, crying, giving it up, giving up everything to her, for her...always for her...

We breathe together in some half dream, half waking state. I am in her is late...I know I will fall for her. I know she will break my heart. The ending is already written into the beginning. I am helpless and can only follow.

I can't do anything for her. Nobody can make me come, she says. She pulls out her vibrator. She can't make herself come. No one can make her come. I hate her I hate myself.

I go home; I can't sleep. I play Bach into the wee hours.

©2012 by Bluette Mayfield

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Bluette Mayfield lives a quiet life in a large urban area.

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