Contours of Darkness Read Free Page B

she said, 'just fuck me.'
    For her there was nothing but the waves of heat, particles of cold, currents of air, vibrations of earth. Sensations as fragile as hummingbird wings blended into a single sense of ultimate yearning. She was at the outermost limits of her ability to maintain her awareness of herself as an entity. She evaporated into the consciousness of the enormity of existence and in her careening amorphousness felt the chill breath of death upon her forehead.
    'Aaron, hold me,' she said.
    Her breathing a ragged sighing, he lifted and lowered himself onto her, his cock bathing in the churning froth of her gaping cunt. He fucked her gently, not letting his feelings flood his awareness of the person who provided him with such unspeakable sensations. They fucked together, each in touch with the other, both in touch with themselves. Where there had been only a him and a her, there was now an us, and in the security of that knowledge they began to fly more freely, like acrobats who have finished their preliminary testing of one another's reliability. He searched instinctively for some deep crevice inside her by following the arc of his own excitation. His cock homed in through its own intelligence. His conscious mind was relegated to the background, to act either as cheering crowd or critical audience. Her legs spread wider, her toes flexed, her heels pushed towards the ceiling. She gave him all the cunt she could.
    His pelvis dropped and he brought his cock in from a lower angle. She made a cry like tearing silk and clutched his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin. He pushed his cock harder into her, and held it against the spot where she had been transfixed. A long moment passed in which there was no movement, and then a long low groan began deep in her throat, and erupted as a cry of primeval pain. She felt as though she were giving birth and being born all at the same time. An electric current zipped through her and she bunched herself around him. He slid his hands under her buttocks and shook her arse until the rocking motion spread from her crotch to her belly, loosening her spine and setting her head to rolling from side to side. She wept without tears and spilled herself out in a hot splashing orgasm which fell upon them like a thundering waterfall.
    While inside the vital passage through the centre of his cock, the sperm trigger trembled for the full duration of her climax, threatened to fire, and then subsided into a state of quiescence. He did not come. He could continue to fuck. And he wilted at the thought of repeating the same delirious cycle again.
    As he collapsed on top of her, as though on signal, she once again wrapped herself around him and started the low shovelling movement which signalled the beginning of another ride. He became soft in her arms, his mind as throbbingly vacant as a nodding junkie's. In the same way that it had taken spanking and forceful fucking to bring Cynthia to the point where she could contact the feelings which flowed beneath the characterological tensions of daily living, so it required her orgasm to relieve him of all sense of duty and allow him to relax into an unstructured exchange, one in which he did not have to dominate. She rolled him to his side and then on to his back. She sat on top of him, her legs bracketing his hips, her cunt mouthing his protruding cock. She lowered her weight onto his body, and kissed him, her tongue greedy for the inside of his mouth and the responses in his lips that her pressure would give rise to. His lips were slack, and she took advantage of the relatively rare moment when he was no longer doing, but was content simply to be. His passivity translated into defencelessness for her, and all her tenderness was aroused. She slid her legs down outside his, and then on top of his, and moved between his thighs, forcing them to open wider. Her hands cupped his arse and pulled him into her. He traced the outline of her face with his