It began one night with a simple dance. His movements were slow, lingering, and sensual. He was not leading, she was not following, yet they heard the same beat and moved together as one swaying to the gentle rhythm.
Later that evening he sent her a text: “You can come sit on my face any time.”
“What kind of text is that for a poet to send to a woman?” she responded.
And then the real dance began…he said…she said…he said…she said.
They met again and she told him stories of those who had loved her and those who had brought her pain: the rapes of her past, her mother’s laughter, her brother’s insanity, her beautiful and strong women friends. He shared stories of past lovers, his relationship with God and belief in the reality of the Holy Spirit, his drive to create music and poetry, and how his muse visited him. They shared thoughts and they shared meals and she felt there was beauty in their dance each step bringing them closer to knowledge of each other.
For days he ran his fingers slowly down her body stopping here and there to take pleasure in the firm mounds of flesh and soft valleys making her shiver with contentment. She gave herself to him freely and gloried in his touch. When he was hard she climbed on top and rode the waves of sensation without fear or shame until all of her orifices exploded in delight. When he was soft she fondled his body kissing the curve of his neck and stroking his long, thin legs that led to that beautiful ass that she couldn’t keep her hands off in bed or on the dance floor.
At times she was completely filled with lust for him and at others joyful in his gentleness. He fed her strawberries in bed and she tenderly licked their sticky juice off his fingers in the same way she had licked her own sweet juices from them earlier at his request. And, finally, she fulfilled his original entreaty and sat on his face as he licked and sucked until she came, filling his mouth with the sweet taste he craved, offering up a bit of her soul to him believing it could never diminish her.
And they danced. Oh how they danced. Onlookers awed by their chemistry and jealous of the connection they perceived between them.
Then one night, as quickly as their dance began, he no longer heard the music and he turned and abruptly walked away.
June 17, 2011