It’s an unspoken sense of understanding that so rarely occurs that when it does, it bears remarking upon — not to mention, documenting for posterity.
I mean, it’s not news to any of you that sex can be absolutely fucking awesome. Not always, it’s true. Sometimes, when the mood is wrong or the chemistry isn’t there, or even when the stars simply haven’t aligned for you that particular time, the sex can be utterly disastrous and downright depressing.
There are those who say that with sex, even a bad one is good — as Mel Brooks might say of a nectarine. Not me, but others. You know the sort. Those whom we refer to as “them”.
However, there are times, when the sex exceeds all expectations. When the sense of “holy FUCK that was amazing” is doubled, even tripled. The stars have aligned, the chemistry is A+, and it’s there. That indefinable unspecifiable spark of something that converts great sex into a divine experience that leaves you googly-eyed and speechless for hours.
It’s when thoughts convey the deed to be done, and no words are required. It’s when the minds meet and concur and the bodies simply follow suit, like the good submissive entities that they are.
Following a protracted period of spent bliss, where his hands have stroked her skin until she can no longer breathe for joy, he moves himself oh so slightly, but enough that she immediately understands, and moves in harmony to meet him. Not a word, nor a look has passed between them, but they both know what this means.
He slides in from behind, and she shudders with repressed ecstasy. She doesn’t even need to tell him “Harder!” — he knows. She doesn’t need to push her nipple at him — he’s already there, pinching it to extract the sound from her that spurs him on yet further.
Man and woman, body and body — harmony personified.
When such an occurrence happens, which it tends to do with Dodo-like rarity, it’s one to be kept with the memories to be stored up for the old age home. I personally look forward to shocking the staff at the facility, as they wipe the leaks from whichever end of me to they are currently paying attention, with stories of fisting,
anal sex and the panache with which I used to execute my world-famed blow job — not forgetting the jaw-ache
that followed, and the rueful grin with which I then turned to the ever-grateful recipient.
But most important of all, I record said incident for posterity here.
Don’t tell me I never do anything for you.