{{let's be alone together}}

✾✾✾...ACT 6...✾✾✾

I lean closer and I taste the forbidden fruit again.

It's not forbidden any more, not tonight. I'm paying for it.

It feels like cheating, that intimate touching of someone else.

I have never cheated on you. I have never even thought about cheating on you. Not until tonight. Tonight... I lost myself. I am not me any more.

I can't be me if you're not here. You were the thing that held me together.

My mouth is sucking on her juices, my tongue is drilling into her, and she is groaning, and I do hope that she's sincere. By force of habit, I am too aware of my hands, because I've done it all before, so many times, and I know that I cannot mix my hands.

The right one slides over her, reaching for her sensitive nipple again, and she lets a small "Ahhh!" when I stroke over it with my fingers, getting a firm grip then, but not squeezing too much, I don't want her to be in any pain. My right hand then travels down, caressing over her ribs, over her belly, and I pull her in, and back, and closer, burying my tongue deeper in her heat. She moans and puts her knees apart more, for better stability.

My left hand is caressing over her buttocks, touching over the skin of her thigh so lightly that she shudders. Reassured by her erotic love sounds, I caress more boldly, until my fingertips reach her small butt-hole, as they almost always would. I touch very lightly, but she immediately turns her head back, and now stares at me with slight panic.

I wonder, what sort of traumatic experience she has had before, if her reaction is like this? I pity her, for the loss of potential pleasure from one of the strongest female erogenous zones.

Poor girl. Poor Pearl.

I stop my heavy petting and reassure her; my voice is cracking, I am too turned on to speak:

- Relax. I remember your rules. I just want you to feel good.

Slowly, hesitantly, her sudden tension disappears, and she relaxes again, burying her face into my pillow, probably ashamed, or maybe afraid.

After all, what kind of hooker is she, if she's not doing any anal? All men are so crazy about it!

Well... all men, and me. I guess I had to be a man all my life. Just plus the boobs, and minus the dick.

Would you have stayed with me, if I had been a man? If I had been rough with you, abusive, violent? Was this what you needed? Not my love, but my contempt? Was this how badly your parents broke you?

My questions go unanswered. I just want to make love to you again, be soft with you again.

I want the impossible.

So I fuck her instead.

She is kneeling apart now, and her butt-cheeks are more open, and I use this small pause to let some spit fall onto her small, throbbing pink ring. I bury my numb tongue into her, and I push into her faster now, but my fingertips massage her opening lightly, going in slow circles, not daring to press too much, but just enough to turn her on.

I listen to her pant. Ever since I started pleasuring her little hole, she just stopped her moaning, but I can hear her gasps and her heavy breathing, and I feel her shake with pleasure, her blood is boiling, just like mine.

I must not mix my hands.

My left one is teasing her butt-hole, and I let my right one slide lower over her smooth skin, over her belly, and reach for her clit again. I want to give her all the pleasure in the world. I want to give you all the pleasure in the world.