The Secret Journey (19 page)

Finally he pulls out. “Good girl.” His voice
is deep and gravely, his breathing not fully recovered, and his
words are more rewarding than orgasm. His still sticky cock nudges
my face, the spermatic fluid still oozing from the tip leaving
sticky trails on my cheeks. I feel heroic somehow, and I wish this
moment could be televised so the whole world could see, so my
husband especially could see. See me in this position with this
man’s sperm on my face and lips. I become aware of the wetness
between my legs, and I realize that I’ve soaked myself to the
knees. I’m such a slut.

Part Eight

Yeah you know me.
You know everything
about me. Not the trivialities like favourite music and taste in
wine. You know what matters, you know what I like, you know what I
am like. We've traveled this road so far together, honey, and
through the journey you’ve learned who I am and how I am and the
way I live. You know more about me now than family knows, more than
my friends have learned in their whole lives. That’s something
special, honey. I’ve had women in my bed, women in my life who have
never, ever seen this side of me, though some of them might have
guessed. You have some of my most intimate secrets here, because I
can’t write this without letting you see the inner me, the secret
side of myself.

Yeah, you know me. You even almost know my
name. Yes, it’s been changed here to protect the guilty, cleverly
morphed just enough that someone won’t suddenly learn more than
they ever wanted to know. You don’t
need
my name, though
when you learn it you won’t be surprised. What matters is, you know
me
, and I know you have a picture of me in your mind. Can
you see me now, right there with you? Can you feel me, can you
sense the warmth of my body, so close to yours? What do you call it
when we’re together? Making love? Fucking? It’s both those things
and more. I know how open it makes you feel, how vulnerable you are
at that moment when I have you spread and wet and begging for it. I
know how you yearn for it even as it scares you to be that exposed,
not just your body, not just your cunt, but your mind, your soul.
Do you have any idea what that does to me? Do you have any idea how
your open-ness brings out my own?

Imagine me for a moment, right here on the
other side of this page. Imagine me here with my mind focused on
you. Picture every detail, my face, my expression, picture my
shoulders, picture my waist, picture my legs, and oh yes, honey,
picture the swelling bulge right there at my crotch. Imagine me
imagining you. See me call you up in my mind’s eye and realize how
much I want you, you my perfect woman, you my one in a million, my
one in ten million, my only one in all the universe.

Watch me shape you, one word at a time, line
by line, every thought, every curve, every glance and smile.
Imagine how long I’ve looked, how many women have come and gone to
drive me to write this. Can you sense my story in these words? You
already know it, the mirror image of your own. I have a hunger,
honey, I have a thirst, and you are my full course fantasy, my
ideal woman made flesh and blood. Yeah, you know me. I’m the one
who’s been in your dreams since you first realized that boys might
feel good. I’m the one who was there when everyone else thought you
were asleep, when your fingers strayed down between your legs to
explore the feelings that grew there. I’m the one in those dark and
dangerous fantasies that you never quite revealed in those teenage
games of truth or dare.

Yeah, you know me. I’m there in those
comforting moments when you’re by yourself but not alone. I’m there
when you’re out with friends with your eyes on the options that are
good enough for them but not for you. We’ve come so close to
meeting, time and time again. Remember when our eyes met, and the
whole room vanished except you and me. You knew at that moment, you
felt it in your bones. Remember when your friend took your
attention and when you looked back I was gone? We missed that
opportunity, honey. We missed it and we’ll never get that time
back, but the future is still ours.

Lay back, honey. Let me lie beside you.
Undress for me, because you know I love the way you look in just
your skin. Let me look at your breasts, smooth and firm and rounded
and feminine, let me see your trim waist and the flare of your
hips. Roll over for me, honey, let me be amazed at the shape of
your taut ass. Has it recovered from your spanking yet? Let me run
my hands down your body, and be amazed at the faces you present,
good girl, bad girl, urban girl, nature girl, artist, professional,
lover, friend.

Do you know what I love most about you? It’s
your curiosity, your thirst for knowledge. It’s your clear
thinking, the way you see right to the heart of a problem. It’s
your instinctive competitiveness, the way you never, ever want to
be anything less than the very best. And more than that it’s your
playfulness, your lighthearted, unselfconscious ability to have
fun, be silly, to laugh at yourself and with everyone around
you.

Are you surprised again, honey? Did you think
what I valued most was your body? Yeah, your body matters. Your
body is built for sex, and sex is what it’s about. If it weren’t
for sex you’d just live with your best friend and skip the
complicated issues of male and female. If it weren’t for sex you
wouldn’t put yourself through the heartache, if it weren't for sex
you wouldn’t be reading this book. Sex is primal, sex is power, sex
is what makes the sparks fly, and anyone who says otherwise is
denying reality. You have to have a good body to get with me,
honey, it’s the price of admission. Sex is the foundation, for what
we’re building here.

But it’s only the foundation. Good bodies
aren’t hard to find. There are enough hot little sluts in the world
willing to get their asses in the air for me to keep my cock wet
for the rest of my life. Did I say willing? I meant eager. I meant
fucking obsessed with the concept. And yeah, it’s a trip to have
some random hottie I met four minutes ago sink down on her knees
with the sole objective of getting my cock inside her, but I need a
little more than that. I need a lot more than that. I need a woman
who can challenge me, who can surprise me, who’s strong enough,
smart enough to make it worth my while. I need that way more than
firm tits and a tight ass, which isn’t to say that I don’t need
those too. Good bodies aren't hard to find, but good minds are
rare. Unique. Priceless.

So let me hold you, honey. Let me pull you
close, pull you tight and inhale your scent. Let me run my fingers
over the texture of your skin, let me learn the pattern of your
body. Sex is the foundation, but intimacy is what’s built on it,
that special closeness. Do you have any idea how you rip me open,
how you spill my soul across your bed? This isn’t the game we
started with honey, this is too true for that. The road has turned
a corner, and now the journey begins for real. You open me when you
open yourself, and I have no more choice to respond to you than you
have to me. We’re in free fall here, with nothing to do but hold on
tight and pray for a soft landing. Let me hold you, honey, here in
midair, in this dark and warm and timeless place, suspended in your
mind. Let me hold you and feel your warmth, your touch, your soul.
Let me cup your breast, lay my cheek on your belly, while you run
your fingers through my hair. Can I trust you honey, really trust
you? Do you want me, or just the fantasy I’m spinning here for you?
And yes the fantasy is me, but it isn’t all of me, and I need you
to know all of me, want all of me, love all of me.

Yes love, I said it, that dangerous four
letter word. I can’t be with someone without loving them, some way,
some how. I can’t be with someone without giving them part of
myself. Sex is about procreation, the closest commingling of two
people that can ever be. DNA unwinding is the ultimate unzipping,
the exposure of raw codons for the intimacy of crossover, the
consummation of fertilization. Sexual bonding is no accident; it’s
built on the biological core of the act.

We call it love but you can’t describe it,
only experience it, and you know exactly what I mean. Surrender and
possession, capture and release union and reunion. There’s more
truth in the final moment of climax than in all the words ever
written. Love is a force of nature,
the
force of nature.
Birds do it, bees do it, and yes honey, you and me do it. That has
nothing to do with whether you want a baby or not, your body
doesn’t know about birth control, all it knows is how to respond to
the presence of an alpha male. That's something too primal to think
about, you just have to act.

Have I scared you, honey? Ruined your demon
lover fantasy? Do you want to avoid emotion and intimacy and stay
with primitive instinct - keep the image and lose the person behind
it? The trick here is they aren’t so far apart, love and lust,
fantasy and reality. Not so far apart, but on opposite ends of the
universe. I need all of you, and I need you to need all of me, rich
or poor, sick or healthy, everything I am. I need you deeply, not
just the depths of your open and willing body but the very depths
of your soul. I need it all. Can you give me that? Will you give me
that? Because yes, honey, that’s what I want, that’s what I
need.

Yeah, you know me honey, you know me better
than anyone else and I am as open to you as I have ever been, as I
have never been before. And I could seduce you right now, could
slide you into the decision I want with the same fluid words that
have kept you glued to these pages all this time. But I’m not going
to, because I don’t want you because I’ve seduced you, I don’t want
you because I’ve clouded your mind with desire. I want your
decision, clear eyed and clear headed. I want you to choose, not
have me choose for you. The door is right there in front of you,
and you have to decide if you want to go through it, or turn away.
Every door in the world is our door, and every time you have to
make the choice to go through it.

So think it over, honey, take some time.
Think about what we’ve had here and what we’ve done here and decide
if you want more. You can see where this little adventure is going
now and you know it’s getting more and more real with every page
you turn. It’s for you to decide honey, yes or no, stop or go,
carry on the journey or close the book and forget it ever happened.
Go ahead and weigh it honey, don’t cheat yourself, don’t cheat me,
by zipping on ahead. Make your decision a good one, because one way
or the other there’s no going back. Take your time, I’ll wait on
the next page, an hour or a day or forever. I’m patient that
way.

And here you are honey, through the door,
going down the road, and let me hug you and kiss you and tell you
how glad I am to see you. Let me pick you up and spin you around
and just be overjoyed at your presence. Let me put you down and lie
down beside you and kiss you and hold you and cherish this moment.
You and I. Us. Beautiful.

Bike Girl III

Kneeling, trussed,
used, abused and
degraded, a stranger’s cock in my mouth, his sperm sticky on my
face, it occurs to me to wonder where Ninja Girl has gone. Did she
watch my subjugation? I find myself hoping that she has, that she
enjoyed it, that it made her wet. I expect to find out soon, expect
my ordeal to be over now that he’s finished, but I’m wrong. They
leave me there, hanging, sperm drying on my face, my juices drying
on my thighs.

The arousal fades and leaves discomfort, in
my knees, in my shoulder, in my back and most especially in my jaw,
which has been hurting since it was first forced open by the cruel
ring gag.

I can hear voices in the background, the man
and, yes, it’s Ninja Girl. I find some satisfaction in her
presence. Their voices are casual, not quite loud enough for me to
make out the words, and I imagine them with drinks in the hands,
dispassionately contemplating my violated body as I hang there, on
display for them. I am an object, and the discomfort of my position
and the lingering pain in my tits and crotch combine to underscore
the fact that my desires are simply irrelevant here. I shift
position as much as I can to take the strain off my knees. I can
take more strain off them if I transfer weight to the rope attached
to the harness holding in the ring gag, but that forces the gag
deeper into my mouth and makes the ache in my jaw excruciating.
There’s nothing I can do about the pain in my shoulders, or my
wrists, or my ankles.

I need to urinate, badly, but I refuse to. I
am not yet so fully degraded that I’ll surrender control of my
bladder.
Not yet.
It occurs to me that sooner or later even
this threshold will be crossed, if that’s what they want to happen
they’ll just leave me hanging until it does. It’s no longer my
decision whether I soil myself or not. I shudder at the
realization. I wanted to be out of control and now I am. Despite
the discomfort the thought is exciting.

At first it’s exciting, but more time passes,
and I drift into a strange place, talking to myself in my head
about nothing, willing myself to get through the next hour, the
next minute, the next ten seconds. I am dizzy, disoriented and the
time seems unendurable. I was crazy to want this, crazy to
volunteer for it, and I promise myself that if I ever get free I’ll
never go riding on the full moon nights again.
I promise, I
promise, I promise.

The pain won’t go away and so I endure it,
moment by moment. I’m still promising myself when fingers rub
against my clit and out of nowhere my orgasm hits me with brutal,
overwhelming force. I scream through the gag, and scream and scream
and keep screaming as my body bucks hard against the restraints. My
skin is on fire and my limbs are numb and the world goes red and
then black. I have never had such a release in my life. I am dimly
aware of hands on me, and I float away on a cloud of euphoria, as
I’m lifted, as my tortured limbs are released, and at some point I
drift off to sleep.