Memories of You

Written especially for Ingrid44, winning bidder in the Auction to help Christchurch, NZ held on LiveJournal in early 2011. I am posting this publicly due to her generosity. She enjoyed this little drabble so much, she wanted me to share it with you all.

Special thanks to @HollettLA who stepped in to beta this for me (and pens the best summaries).

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I loved the feel of the wind in my hair. I had from the first moment of my first run after waking to this life. Stretching my legs felt so good after my confinement and I pressed myself to go faster, jump farther as I headed for home.

As I rushed past a cluster of delicate fairy slippers, I stopped and made a mental note of my location. Calypso bulbosa were my lovely wife’s favorite flowers and such a large natural grouping was unusual. I would have plucked a few blooms, but Alice would have had my hide for disturbing them in the wild.  So instead, I looked at them carefully while making a clear decision to bring her here knowing she would see them in her mind despite my distance. I could almost see her bouncing and clapping with joy.

Turning again toward home, I began mulling over the infinite options of reconnecting with her after being gone so long. When my musical muse struck, I had to sequester myself away in a remote mountain cabin far from any voices, sights, or sounds that could distract me. There I would remain until my composing coma lifted and I was ready to reenter the world. Sometimes, it would be a few days, other times a week, or two – I never knew. This time, I’d been gone for several months, the longest imposed isolation ever in my long life. It had been a very productive and fruitful time, and had brought forth my best work to date.

Strains of several melodies passed through my mind. I had written an opus to Alice, an entire concert series devoted to her many beautiful and intriguing facets. My love for her continued to grow in myriad surprising ways, and images of our coupling joined the notes drifting around my mind.

A candle lit tub full of rose scented bubbles, her eyes filled with promises and dark desires. . . .

Pressing her lithe body against a tree while pinning her arms over her head, thunder and lightning electrifying the sky. . . .

My clothes in shreds around me as she mounted me desperately after her first kill. . . .

A smile split my face unconsciously as I reviewed that memorable night. The trees uprooted, boulders split, the rain pounding down around us washing us clean of mud and debris. I had no choice but to slow my pace as my cock hardened, making running gracefully and fast a painful challenge. If I weren’t so desperate to get home, I’d stop long enough to rub one out, but I continued to press for home.

How many beds had we broken? The last was solid iron cast in one piece to avoid any weak spots. I thought that’d be unbreakable for sure. She really showed me, didn’t she. . . .

Her face above mine grinning devilishly as her body pounded mine into submission. The determination to win some stupid bet I could no longer remember as I struggled to hold off my impending orgasm. Her eyes sparkling with triumph when my control slipped and I could no longer hold myself back.

That was a good night. I grinned to myself and considered returning the favor.

Alice kneeling before me in a red corset and nothing else but a black silk blindfold, hands cuffed behind her back, soft suede flogger in my hand. . . .

Me, bound spread-eagle on our playroom bed, while Alice drove me insane with a crop and a cane. . . .

In the meadow behind our house, surrounded by wildflowers, her breasts stunning as they sparkled in the sunlight, our lovemaking tender, slow, sweet, and deep. . . .

During the darkest part of the night feasting on her sweet, sweet pussy, her legs spread wide atop my piano, the notes plinking discordantly as we moved. . . .

So many options, so many memories. Were I human, I couldn’t count them all much less remember them. My crystal-clear memory was a most precious vault, holding every moment of our lives together. Life before her wasn’t worth remembering.

Sifting through them all, I tried to figure out what she might like, how she might like to be reunited. I wasn’t close enough to hear her thoughts, see her visions, to know for sure.

“Surprise me!” she squealed, her eyes merry and twinkling with laughter.

I laughed aloud then as now, since that was easier said than done. After considering several more options, I decided to turn those words back on her and let her surprise me for once, knowing that was equally difficult. Clearing my mind of all imagery, I made the straightforward decision and threw down the gauntlet. Then, I allowed my feelings to come to the fore. Joy and love immediately poured through me, and I was nearly giddy when I entered the far edge of the forest that bounded our home.

I listened for Alice’s voice, and was instantly warmed when I heard her reciting the Book of Coming Forth by Day in Latin. She was blocking her thoughts from me and a thrill of anticipation shivered through me, as I crossed the last few miles between us.

When I was on the far side of the river, I could smell warm melted wax in the soft evening breeze. Muted music reached my ears, as I cleared the rushing water. The tangy fragrance of fresh mountain lion blood I’d done everything in my power to ignore grew stronger, and I wondered just what sort of welcome my tantalizing wife had prepared for me.

As I crossed the meadow, I came upon a garment imbued with her intoxicating scent. Picking it up, I found a note attached. I fingered the delicate silk as I read her words.

Welcome home, husband. Prepare to feast on all your favorite things. Leave a garment behind every time you find one of mine. Look for clues and hidden finds along the way.

I stroked the paper tenderly. Just like Alice to delay my gratification and her own while spoiling me thoroughly all at the same time. . . .

Slowly, knowing she’d have seen my actions, and wanting to gift her as she was giving to me, I removed my shirt and dropped it to the ground, adding hers to the pile. As badly as my cock and I wanted to make a beeline to her, my nose and my thirst had other ideas. To my left, a glass sparkled in the moonlight and I was irresistibly drawn to it, the heavenly scent too close and too strong to ignore. I carefully lifted it from the rock upon which it rested and brought it to my lips. It was filled to the brim with fresh mountain lion blood that was amazingly as warm as if I’d just killed it myself. I drank greedily, making sure not to waste a single precious drop. Slightly shameful, I even licked the glass clean as I heard my love’s laughter ring out from within the dark house.

After setting the glass back on the rock, I turned and saw another garment closer to the house but across the meadow from me.

“You are torturing me!” I spoke quietly, knowing she’d hear me. More laughter is all that greeted my ears as her mental recitation continued.

Two can play at this game, I thought as I clearly decided to palm and stroke myself through my pants. Her recitation stuttered and I heard her gasp. Reaching her skirt carefully arranged on the ground, I stopped and heard her breath whoosh out. I decided to run my hands across my body in a most erotic manner, ending with my hand down my pants before I stripped them away, revealing my cock standing at full and complete attention through my the fly of my boxers.

“See what just the thought of you does to me, wife?” I whispered to her in the darkness. A hum of assent reached my ears though her internal recital didn’t waver.

On the back stoop, another full glass of lion’s blood with another note. “Your stamina needs to be at its peak for what I have in mind. . . .”

I couldn’t control the groan that escaped my throat, and I gulped the cooling blood eagerly. Turning as if to dash through the door, my movements were halted by her silvery voice.

“Ah, ah, ah! Always so eager, my love. Patience!”

A flash of Alice in her full dominatrix regalia, whip in hand, flashed through for a split second causing my dick to strain even further in her direction. I licked my lips as I kicked off each shoe alongside hers, dropping my remaining garments as I followed the trail of hers through the door.

The melted wax smell was intense and the music, louder and sensual now, vibrated through me.  I thundered up the stairs and jerked the door to our playroom off its hinges in my fervor to reach my wife. I stood there dumbfounded – the room was empty, dark, and smelled of disuse.

Alice’s musical laughter rang out followed by her voice. “Fooled ya!”

“You did. You got me hook, line, and sinker.”

“Look down, silly.”

I did, and at my feet was a trail of rose petals. In my impatience, I’d completely missed them.

Her voice throaty and full of lust now she breathed, “Come to me, Edward. Don’t make me wait for you any longer.” She opened her mind to me at last, and I joined her in our bathtub before her thought was finished. Her head, hand, and one knee were all I could see above the bubbles in the bath before she arched her back and pushed her breasts at me.

“Oh, Alice. . .” I started, “I’ve missed you. So. Much.” I finished against the skin of her chest as I pressed slowly into her.

There were no other words, only sighs and moans of surprise and pleasure. Words were not needed between us, not because we knew the other’s body like it was our own, though that was true. No, words were not needed because we communicated in a superior, more intimate way with our needs and desires. A way not available to any other – through the images and thoughts in our minds.