Generotico

Andrew was the man I had loved more than anyone else in all my 27 years. But then, on the first day he and I had moved in together, my first true love dumped me for another woman. Since that first night, identifying with my sorrow and pain, Mr. G fell in love with me.

It all started that same day. Who could forget? I had decided to get an apartment, leave my parents and be independent so that we could share our lives together. But Andrew decided on that day of all days to move in with someone else and that started for me the strangest experience of my life.

That day I had been waiting patiently for Andrew so that we could start celebrating our new life together. Instead of him I got an e-mail telling me the truth, the awful truth about him and I. The table was already set. It was surrounded by boxes from our moving but ready for a romantic dinner. I spent the whole night crying on the old couch I had just bought. That’s when Mr. G saw me for the first time and got connect with me.

Mr. G too had been dumped. Like me he felt overwhelmed by his grief and was not sure he wanted to go on living. Andrew stole my heart and soul when he left, but Mr. G was about to recover both for me and for himself.

During the next week I was sad and very depressed. I did not want to see anyone or do anything. I couldn’t stop crying. I cried as if Andrew had died. In fact I decided to kill him off inside of myself and bury him deep. That made for another thing Mr. G and I had in common. A short time after his lover left him she was killed in a car accident. We had both buried our eternal loves. Ever since the day I had decided to kill him off in my mind I have called Andrew ‘El Morte’, the Dead One. Little did I know, I was about to meet another ‘El Morte’.

Mr.G stayed with me at all times. He didn’t want to leave me alone. He was afraid I might make a very bad decision. I was so locked away in my grief I never noticed how he was taking care of me, wiping away my tears every night and watching my dreams. Every time I woke up sobbing in the middle of the night he was right there to hug me, taking me in his arms and rocking me until finally I could fall asleep again.

It was on one of those nights that he dared to kiss me for the first time. I was deeply asleep and dreaming of him: a tall muscular man with black curly hair and a thick, dark beard that covered half his face. His eyes… I don’t quite remember them. But his deep eerie voice often made me shiver. We were together in the living room and I was staring wistfully out the front window when he approached me from behind. One of his big rough hands touched my shoulder. “Stop waiting and searching for him. He is never coming back. He told you that,” he said in his deep hoarse voice.

I turned around and saw him as if for the first time. His arms were already spread open to hold me. I accepted that embrace and within seconds that embrace had become a long, deep and passionate kiss. His warm lips slid over mine as if soft velvet were caressing my mouth. His tongue, firm and soft at the same time, slipped inside my mouth and dueled with mine. But he gave me more than those tender lips…with that kiss he gave me his soul.

I woke up breathless after the kiss. I touched my lips and still felt his velvet softness surrounding them. My lips were hot, moist and swollen and my mouth had that special dry taste it always gets when I am aroused.

From that day on he became my only companion helping me with everything, even when I was cooking. If I forgot to turn off the stove he would do it so the food I was cooking wouldn’t get spoiled. When setting the table any time I forgot to put something out he did it for me. In my bedroom he even took special charge of Andrew’s picture, hiding it in the bottom of my closet so I wouldn’t see it and start crying again every time I glanced at his image.

Things between Mr. G and I started to heat up. He thought I was ready to move on and start living again. One night in my sleep he took me in his arms. I was lying face down as usual. One leg was straight and the other was flexed forming a perfect figure 4 with my knee. One arm was under my pillow and the other was above my shoulder embracing the pillow as if I had it draped over Andrew’s chest. That was the position we were always in when we used to fall asleep.

Mr. G started touching my hair, entwining his fingers through my long dark hair as if he were braiding them. He moved his face closer to my hair smelling my scent and burrowing his nose into the nape of my neck where he started to kiss me. His tongue ran over my neck, side to side, making little licking stops on my ear lobes. A tickling sensation ran down my skin, making me bristle. I quickly pulled my legs together closing the entrance I was sure he was looking for.

I wanted to open my eyes but a heavy drowsiness had invaded me, weighing me down. I felt lost and confused and couldn’t guess his next move nor think how to stop him. I nearly started to panic but felt aroused at the same time. His hands were over my back touching my light cotton sleeveless shirt I had worn to bed. I felt his hot breath against my freckled dermis as if he were stopping at each pore trying to steal the musky, sexual odor I knew my body was exuding. His fingers continued their journey down my back finally reaching the base of my spine.

With his fingertips he traced out the curve of my ass cheeks. Then his desire drove his lips down to kiss them, to rub his wet velvety lips over each firm, pale rounded orb. I felt the wetness of his mouth, the roughness of his hand and the warmth of his tongue as he licked and probed between them.

The phone rang! I jumped and before I could reach the receiver his touches and his presence vanished. It was a wrong number. I stayed sitting up in bed trying to find him inside the darkness, trying at least to see his moving shadow cast by the reflected outside street lights. But he wasn’t there. Somehow he had managed to hide and escape from my locked bedroom. I lay down again, this time facing the ceiling and grasping my covers tightly as if someone might pull them away.

The drowsiness came again. My fingers lost their tightness as did the rest of my body. He returned, this time he started with my toes, kissing and licking each, surfing from one foot to the other and his hands ran over my ankles. I moved my feet away from him, pulled both my legs up into a fetal position hiding my head under the covers until I couldn’t resist any more. My body gave in again.

Mr. G was behind me now and a strong hairy arm wrapped itself around my waist and pulled me against him. His mouth was again on my neck and this time his hand found its way under the front of my shirt. He cupped both my bare breasts with his huge hand and played with both my stiff hard nipples, the right one with his pinky and the left with his thumb.

After living together with me for over a month he knew exactly how and where to touch me, how to kiss me and just what I needed to get aroused. He knew precisely how to physically seduce me, how to get me to overcome my fear and reluctance enough to allow myself to be taken by someone I wasn’t sure was even there. But the sensations, the excitement and the passions I was feeling were there and real.

He started to rub my nipples in circles, soft almost imperceptible circles, drawn by his fingertips that made each one instantly erect and my pussy flood with a delicious wetness. He performed the same maneuver upon my neck with his tongue. As my nipples swelled up so to did his cock. I felt it grow between my ass cheeks as he ground his pelvis against me with hard urgent thrusts.

His fingers continued to play with my swollen nipples. I started moaning. My tongue was out over my lips searching for his mouth. I wanted to feel his tongue twisting and dancing with mine inside me performing the same erotic tango in my mouth as he was now doing in my ear.

I wanted to move and face him but he made me lie face down, pinning me with his heavy body. Then he moved me slightly and brought his big hands around to cup my breasts. Still on top of me his rampant cock found its way into my cunt even though my legs were still squeezed tightly shut. In my desire I let him enter me. It took only a single hard push to feel my wet and swollen pussy become filled with him.

He started to rock back and forth moving relentlessly in and out of me. I started to moan and cry out. I strained to catch a glimpse of him in my headboard mirror but he pushed me back into the pillow. I felt his hot breath on my neck coming faster, more urgently. He made no sounds, uttered no words – all I heard were the hot raspy noise of air being sucked in and out of his chest. It blew warm and moist across my neck and cheek. Then I felt him spasm, a long and heavy spasm which made him raise his heaving chest up from my back. I felt him come.

I felt the onrush of my own orgasm. I raised my head up crying out in my own passion and saw in my headboard mirror that Mr. G was not there. I lost my breath as I was coming but my climax continued to pound through me until, in darkness, fear and confusion I fell back onto my pillow and lost consciousness.

The sunlight woke me up. All the covers from my bed were on the floor, my shirt was pulled up over my breasts and between my legs I was soaking wet. I tried to remember what had happened the night before, and finally the last moments came to my mind. Someone had made love to me last night.

No, someone or some thing had fucked me last night. It had no shape, no face and no body but I felt it. God did I feel it! Did I have a wet dream? My door was still locked just as I had left it before going to bed. Nothing seemed out of place –except for the covers, my shirt and a large wet spot on the sheets.

During the whole day I tried to figure out what had happened. I tried to explain and convince myself I had had a dream, just like the one I had had when I first kissed him in the living room. But I couldn't forget his lips, his big, rough hands, and the sensation of his hairy body against my smooth skin. I still could feel his cock inside my pussy, pushing and sliding in and out of me as if it had been real.

It was dusk when I fell asleep in the couch. The whole living room was lit by the rays of the setting sun when he woke me. Thanks to the low light I only could see his shadow. Then there came his voice, deep and compassionate. "Don't be afraid, Denise, please. I won't hurt you ever, “ he told me. “I'm not like Andrew. I will not ever leave you, please believe me,".

I was in shock, I didn't know what to say. His hand, that heavy rough hand that last night had grabbed me and held me captive was caressing my face.

"I love you, and you will always be mine," he murmured in my ear.

Then a smell, that same smell I hadn't quite perceived before, like mothballs... I went to talk when he kissed me to seal my lips. As the sun was going down, we made love again and again there on the same old couch I had first cried my eyes out over Andrew. On that same couch I surrendered to him completely.



Déborah Tourné