The Gemini

58 - Something Old, Something New

August 27, 1991

The sounds of lovemaking filled the room. Two lovers in the height of passion. Skin on skin. Glistening and glossy with the perspiration of desire. Sheets in a sensuous rumple; twisted from the many different ways their bodies had turned along this ride. This new position is nothing short of a limber feat. A pound blowing both of their minds.

"Yes. Yes." Jody cried out in mounting climax. "Yes!"

The stress of each word indicating a step loser to the greatest great. Each of them swiftly spoken and pitched soprano. Soft little squeaks follow after, one cutting off the other as her lungs tried to gain air. Her eyes in a flutter, to hell with appearance. She was sure that she looked like a broken baby doll whose eyes lost the ability to focus in unison.

What is a simultaneous blink anyway?

Roger in his own godly melody of low moans and rushed breaths, took the time for an exhausted huff. His humor derived from Miss Minnie Riperton beneath him. He loved it when Jody did that; the sound so pretty. Whenever she did it, he knew that he was hitting it more than right. She was on a next level kind of bliss.

"Oh fuck." she panted out before slipping back into that staccato falsetto.

Any second now.

Rhythmic: an intoxicating grunt to each thrust. Throb. Damn how he did. And damn how he tried to hold on. Roger made sure to go past his best, he had a point to prove tonight. And, dammit, he was shooting for the stars.

Speaking of shooting, Little Riperton couldn't hold her cool. Her legs in a familiar tremor, her spine in an arch, she let go of her own splashing waterfall. And then it came. A titanic orgasm that not only took Jody's soul, but Roger's too. Mouth gaping, a sound he couldn't explain escaped him when his form staggered as he pumped, pooling inside of her at full speed.

Euphoria, party of two.

Collapse. Heaving chests. Ragged breaths. When he got strength to do so, letting Jody's legs down, Roger separated from her. On his back, he commenced recuperation.

"Shiiit!"

Weakly Jody humored at his winded exclaim. Spent and completely sated, she didn't have it in her to care about the wet she laid in. She'd done it again. The all mysterious female gush.

The first time it happened she freaked out, embarrassed, thinking that she'd peed or something. And then Roger reassured her with a lesson of what it really was. And now, just like after that first time it happened, she felt numb in the most brilliant way. Positively astral.

"I can't feel my face." she drawled. "I can't feel the bed."

Chuckling, "What's your name?" Roger asked.

Giving a languid smile, "Satisfied."

Ego? Yeah, his gloated.

"You sure you wanna do this?"

"Yes...no." she dithered. "Yes..."

The other day they were in the car coming from somewhere or another when Jody randomly suggested to him, "We should stop having sex." After his appalled response, "Pardon?", she proposed that they hold off until their wedding night.

To say yes now would mean spending twenty days in the Sahara. Twenty days without this feeling. Twenty days without her addiction. Sanity. At first mention her mind was set, but that was before this stupefying lay.

"Which is it?" he asked.

"What's today, the 27th?"

"Something like that."