Practical Alchemy for Lovers
How to Play with the Space/Time Continuum
This morning after everyone else was gone, we were finally able to really take our time together. We started with a long, hot, meteor shower, kissing each other in the spray until my love got star dust in his ear and we switched to shampooing each other’s hair. I adore the feel of him massaging my scalp and running his fingers through my hair, his big, strong hands both gentle and firm. One of our first times alone together he gave me a foot massage and I knew then that I wanted those hands all over my body. When we were much younger and I had long, long hair, he used to brush it for me, long sensual strokes that made me purr with pleasure. There is magic in his hands.
These days my hair is short enough to air dry and so after I’d toweled it off I retreated to the nebula and stretched out comfortably. My love joined me shortly afterwards and crawled on top of me playfully. He kissed me gently and told me, “Your lips are so soft. I love the way that you kiss,” as he continued to kiss me sweetly and playfully.
After a time he rolled over and lay beside me. We ran our hands all up and down each other’s bodies as we lay next to each other, just as if we had all the time in the world. In truth, we did not. Eventually we both had places that we needed to be, but for now, we didn’t need to be concerned with that. Besides, right in this moment we were creating a bubble in the continuum — a beautiful place where there was plenty of time; plenty of space.
After a while, my love moved down a bit so that he could lay perpendicular to me. He spread my legs and began caressing my vulva, gently and tenderly, looking with wonder at the opening that he’d seen a thousand times before, exploring with his fingers and after a while, with his tongue. We lay like that for the longest time, my tenderest parts being gently bathed and stimulated. I reached for his cock and began stroking it with my hand, rhythmically and somewhat absently, letting my fingers and our long history together tell me exactly what to do.
“I want you in me,” I told him at last. “I want to feel you deep inside. But not just yet. Let’s do this for just a little bit more.”
My love smiled at me then, knowing that as much as I wanted him, I also wanted to draw things out and savor them for as long as possible. The tension of the wanting, the desiring — that was just as delicious as the actual having. He also wanted to see my orgasm first; to feel it; to taste it. There is nothing my love enjoys more than my orgasm, being front and center as my pussy builds up pleasurable tension until it goes supernova. He loves to bathe his face in my juices, like a sacrament of holy waters. My moans and cries are like a primal symphony, a symphony that he helped to write and like any powerful music, it sweeps him up in its embrace and transports him to glorious places.
Only then is he ready to enter me. As he lays himself gently atop, I wrap my legs around his hips, offering him my deepest self. Not only the deepest parts of my body, but all of myself — my love, my soul, my commitment to be together every day, for all eternity. This is what I open up to receive him with as he plunges his lingam into my yoni and we melt into each other. It’s no longer mere body parts that we are joining; they are now cosmic vessels of energy and intertwinings of soul.