Limerence is Bliss

I came to his house in the middle of the night. My husband drove the car we'd been sleeping in over the mountains to this guy Richard's place. All I hoped for is that he wouldn't kill me. I just wanted to sleep a whole night without waiting with no breath for a rap at the window. 

I'm always taking in strays. She was no different. I thought nothing of it, Ray sent the two of them over. A young married couple who'd been sleeping in parking lots. People come and go. They come for a reason and they leave for a reason, it never has anything to do with me. Except for her. She came here for me, she came here to split my timeline. She came here to fuck me up.  

One night turned into let's stay. A simple introduction turned into numerology as job interview turned into let's work trade turned into you can have the spare room on the weekdays turned into I want to cook what I'm cooking for us for him, too. I asked my queer, nonbinary partner Pete what he thought of Richard, he said without hesitation "I love him." I wanted to say the same but I didn't mean it the way he did, so I choked. It wasn't like that at first. I'm not sure when it became like that. Slowly, then suddenly. He was a complete stranger, then he wasn't. 

She's so pretty it hurts. Was she this pretty when we first met? Those eyes. They burn. It's been a while.

You ever get the impression a guy's sitting on a rocket? Not just a big one, I mean yeah, but I mean a rocket, full of enough fuel to push ten tons straight up. And if it's not going off, it's sitting there, all that fuel, ready to launch. Ready, eager, desperate, finger on the button. This fucker's sitting on a rocket.

Everyday I see her. Everyday she's here, having coffee, caring for the house, talking to me. She asks me how I am, she's the only one who ever asks, and I'm too honest with her. Everyday I watch every single man be mesmerized by her. I beat myself up for being no better than them. The best I can do is keep my tongue in my mouth and try not to give myself away. The view of her ass while she's making something I'm gonna eat is too much. I wanna make another baby with this fucking bitch but she has a man. So what the fuck am I doing? Just trying to breathe and not stare. I should stop jerking off to her but I just can't. She's twenty nine. I'm so out of line.

He invites me to thrift shop in Palm Springs. It's just thrift shopping and hitting up the dispensary, what I'm usually up to with my gay friends back in LA. We get a free iced coffee at the dispensary. "Oh fuck," I say after one sip. Cookies and cream. "Oh fuck," he says too, echoing me. We smoke and we chat, he drives his Jeep, my feet up on the dash. He tells me I need to see myself as a radiant fucking being. Putting two fingers up on the dash he reminds me I am an 11, each finger a one. We’re talking about opening portals. "Pardon me for saying, but your genitals would be part of that portal." He parts the two fingers, a v for a pussy. He's fucking with me. Right?

This girl is mine now. She's my woman. I'll buy her whatever she wants, give her whatever she needs. Protect her, keep her, honor her and fulfill her. She gets only the best, she gets exactly what she asks for. I'm the one to give it to her. She has no fucking clue what a man like me could do to her. I won't condescend to this chick, she's grown and she knows what she's doing when she leans in close. When she passes the blunt to me I feel her fingers linger. I taste her spit but she refuses to taste mine. 

"Pull over here." 

I heard myself say it, as if I was outside myself. Did I really wanna blow up my life over this guy? This is the guy?

We were doing about twenty over the limit on the winding mountain roads back from Palm Springs, full of blunt. He pulled over without questioning me. No discussion, just execution. He did what I asked. We screeched to a halt, kicking up red dirt on a tucked in patch by the highway. 

He put the car in park. "What is it?" 

I undid my seatbelt and faced him.

 "Would you like some head?"

I couldn't help it. It was what I truly wanted to know, what I truly wanted to do. I day dreamed about his dick too much not to offer. And I usually hate dick. 

"So you really are fucking psychic." Already bulging, he undid his belt and took it out for me. Execution. The girth made me gasp. I hadn't sucked dick since college.

Bent over with my head in his lap I slobbered and sucked the thickest dick I'd ever seen. I took him as deep as I could down my throat. He grabbed my hair tight and, whimpering, he coached me. "Use your hand, too," I stroked him using my spit while I frenched the tip. He sucked his teeth, "good girl." I gave him my eyes, lavished them on his, allowed him to stare into them like he likes. I let my pink tongue pass through that smallest of slits. Holding my head tight, he slid it in deeper, slowly filling my mouth, my brains. Then out again, I laid my tongue flat against it. Again. Again. Moans escaped him as he started to lose his cool, his control. I kept stroking and rested my jaw, he saw his opportunity and surprised me. 

Our first kiss and I know I must've tasted like his dick. Soft and sudden, this is what we had both been wanting for a while now. Yes sex, yes fucking, yes lust, yes flesh, and yes being as close as fucking possible, yes something to do with our souls. I kept stroking, making him moan in my mouth. "Baby I've been wanting you so bad I've been touching myself nonstop." Did I say that? He travels down my neck, kisses become bites, become biting me til I squeal, he doesn't stop. "I could tell baby, that's why I got you alone. This dick is for you baby, it's yours." "My dick?" I'm hungry again.

She sucks me off until I come. I'm shaking when I come. It's been awhile. Her mouth is lined in the same flesh as her pussy, warm and wet and soft. It's the same mouth I watched pout around a fresh strawberry this morning, the same mouth that talked back to me when I was out of line. She's a filthy angel, too good for me, and I almost blacked out I came so hard. And she swallowed all of it.

Now I'm a gentleman and I'm fair and I take care of a woman who takes care of me. So I drove home as fast as I could, threw her on the table and ate her pussy like it was my last meal. That thing tastes like fucking rosewater, I swear. Sheer liquid. Better than I ever imagined. The portal to my salvation. I fucked her with my nose, she started bouncing and purring like a porn star. Out of breath whore shit. I knew she was a fucking slut, I knew she needed dick, I knew she needed me. I knew she needed it bad. She got so loud I covered her mouth, someone could come by at any second, and see what only I had earned the right to see. The lesbian hottie using my face to juice herself. The one girl everyone wanted but nobody could get. Because I earned it. Because I did what needed to be done, I did what she needed. I gave her what she asked me for. And none of these other dudes who clamored for her could possibly have given her the dick she deserved. Right now the dick was my nose, my chin. She pleased herself against me and when she came she cooed like an angel and her pussy pulsed and that's the shit you can't fake. 

Back to roommates for a while after that. Back to dopamine loops I can't stop because I don't want to, back to trying not to stare at her even though she's the prettiest girl I've ever seen, back to jerking myself off in the shower, kicking myself for not fucking her too, back to wondering what the deal is with her husband, back to wondering what the fuck she meant when she would say "you're gay for me" then turnaround and tell me to get her pregnant. She's the opposite of violence, that's why I wanna be with her. She's the antidote. Why does she stand by me like that? Why does she want to have my back? Why does she have to have a nice ass and soft lips and a husband and do my fucking dishes and suck my dick—why is she fucking with me like this? She's the opposite of trauma and I want to live there, with her, inside her, seed her, need her, please her. Please can we fuck? I pray she hears me and I cum. Hot water washes it away. 

Yes I can hear him. I masturbate in the same shower God damn it. In my mind we have the place to ourselves and we fuck on every surface. There is something dense between us. He and I are the same you see, vers butch queens. We're two cowboys fooling around under the blanket. If he was in this shower with me right now, he could wash me and then we'd do it in the ass. Of course we can fuck again, baby. 

Waking up in my own sticky cum because I'm a dirty perverted piece of shit. I remember now, I dreamt of her asshole. Lubed up and massaged, I fit my cock in easily. She muffles her own moans while I fuck her into the flannel blanket. It's freezing cold in our tent and we were huddling for warmth when she started coaxing me to fuck her in the ass. It's like I'm fucking my best friend, I'm shy and excited, confused as fuck. Fucking her in the ass because she asked me to, she told me what she wanted. I want this to mean she's my boyfriend, that I can trust her, that I can lean on her. That she'll protect me. She's stronger than me, just look at her taking this dick like a man.

I get up and throw my clothes in the laundry and I wish it was real and I wish she was mine and remember she's right here but still not close enough. I'm still the luckiest loser here. I want her to see the cum stains on my laundry. I want her to know what she's doing to me.

I try to focus on the work. I plant sunflowers, I install chicken wire. I turn a trash heap into a dorm room. I ignore him. I stop sharing blunts with him. I pretend I care that it's inappropriate and ill-advised. I pretend I don't want him. But my body betrays me every night. Sometimes twice. This makes me a cheating fucking bitch right? How could it not? 

I collapse on the new dorm room bed, nothing but a dirty mattress on a cot. He walks by. "Oh sorry, I never would have made all that noise if I knew you were napping."

"Come here." He doesn't need to be told twice. He's here with me, me and him and a bed. All I need in this world. He sits down and takes my hand. He places it on his heart.

"Do you want some angel pussy?" 

"Yes." 

I sit on his lap, where I belong. Kissing him is the most vulnerable, the most dangerous. It's my favorite.

I reach for his belt but he swats me away. Is he serious? I reach down his jeans, he presses me into him so I can't move. He's too damn strong. He has all of me in one arm.

He brushes the hair from my face with warm hands, reflecting my heat back onto me. He stares into my eyes like he likes. He's the only man here with permission to stare. He denies me a kiss. 

"I adore you." I don't know what to say. The secret to this fuckery is something super dangerous, love.

"Then give me what I want." 

He grabs his dick. "You mean this? Oh you want this?" 

"Please baby?"

"Only if you give me what I want."

"What do you want?"

"I want your truth. I want your soul. I want to see the shit you hide from me."

I'm speechless. And wet. Surprised, unprepared, but the truth is what it is, so the words come.

"I'm crazy about you. I think about you everyday. I miss you when we're not together, I wish I could be with you, I admire you, I respect you, I feel compelled by my body and by source energy to pursue you. I feel it was fate to meet you. I'm scared of you. I know you are hurting, I know you know how to hurt. I know you're a killer. Still I want you. My husband and I are queer, we do things differently. I want to find a way to make room for my feelings for you. These feelings overwhelm me, they make me nervous. But they won't go away. All I do is crave you, I want you inside me so bad. I want to make part of you part of me. I hear all of your liminal messages on the wifi of my fucking ovaries. Richard please, please give me what I want."

"Say it."

"Please, Richard, baby you know I need to get fucked. Will you do that for me?"

"Anything you ask."

I'm throbbing. He's teased me enough god damn it. I feel the rush of blood. I feel thick and fluffy like a pancake.

Finally. I use two fingers to spread my pussy. Two fingers, the eleven, the portal. I love him in my portal, I squeeze his dick a little out of love. Oh fuck I am falling in love. He kisses me sloppy, tongue lapping, he speaks into my open mouth "thank you for the angel pussy baby. I'm so lucky." His cock is so slippery now, gliding and filling like it should, churning me like butter. He pulls my hips up off the bed, fucking into me from above, using the springs to bounce. "Is this is what you want, princess? You want me to make love to you? You want it soft and sweet?" I struggle to speak, the fucking is soft but it just doesn't stop. My clit is tickled by the springs.

"No baby, I want it nasty. I'm your whore." So he spits in my mouth. 

"Then go to work like a fucking whore." I take all my clothes off. He sits astonished, at last, at lost paradise. I watch him rub it while I spin around and split my ass. "Fuck," he moans through a slack jaw. He lights up and takes a drag. I get on my knees.

She's naked. Soft butter. She's touching herself, staring into my eyes. She knows what I like. How does she know? 

"I hear you call out to me. I hear you come to me. In the shower." She quivers. "Do you feel me come to you? Do you dream of me?" I pass her the blunt and she smokes it with her free hand. 

"So that really was you in my tent? Wanting it in the ass? Are you invading my dreams girl?" 

"Duh."

She climbs on top of me, hogging the blunt. She's something strange I can't define. She's like me. 

Getting spanked is what I deserve. I'm so out of line for fucking him. My boss. My landlord. My keeper. My master. And Pete still doesn’t know. Again. It stings and my ass turns red, then purple. Bruised fruit. I'm bad. It's the release I need. He pulls my hair. Hard. "You love it. Oh you fucking love it." Sting. It hurts. Sting. He shakes out his hand. It takes a lot of ass to wear out a marine's hand.

Dripping wet, he's exploring me with his fingers. Filling. Stroking. Building an orgasm in me. I'm close. His other hand coils around my throat. My dream man. Tomorrow I'll make him breakfast. He fucks me so hard my eyes water. I can barely breathe. I don't want to breathe. I want to be fucked. 

"I need air," he lets go of my throat. "Pause, pause," he stops. "Want me to pull out?" "Yes." He pulls out. So behind my thoughts in time, I'm overwhelmed. So much pleasure, it hurts to feel this good. He breathes with me, in… out. My heart rate slows. We breathe together. In… out. I don't know how much time goes by. My body needs to catch up to how much my mind wants. My eyes are often bigger than my pussy. I wake up scooped into him, his hand on my heart. 

"Do you ever dream of me?" He sounds so small.

"Yes." 

"And what do you dream?"

"This." 

Tongue and lips I can escape into his kiss. I have to keep "I love you" inside my mouth. I have to keep him inside my mouth. He tries to swallow my breast, I want to see him choke. Choke on my love, gag on the sheer surprise of us. I want to come inside him, put my orgasm in him so he knows. I love you. 

I ride him so hard he can barely hold on. I control him with my hips, I call the fucking shots, I ride out an orgasm for both of us. I squeeze him again. I won't let him pull out. 

"Now you can make love to me." 

Kisses all over. My neck, my ear, my shoulder, my nipples, my belly, my ass. He worships my body and realizes I'm worth all the outrageous hype. His hands are cracked and huge, I can feel their texture against my silky skin. I can feel his tongue swirl around my nipple. He disappears into me, soothing himself. He wants to hide in me. I want to let him. Line out the fucking door and I picked him because I like an outlaw. I'll probably fuck you if I see your ass cash the check your mouth wrote. That's why he gets some angel pussy. Filled with his cum I sit and hold him in rare stillness. He's tired, his soul is weary. I kiss his eyelids, I kiss his scars. I don't know why or if he deserves it but I would take a bullet for him. I want to take it all for him. Why?

She's the softest creature on Earth. I wanna wake up next to her. I wanna rub her belly filled with my baby. She let me hit it raw and I honestly hope it's one and done. She looks so fucking knock-up-able. But I can't have another kid what the fuck am I saying? Start all over again? Another wife, another ex wife, another mom to another kid? But how else can I make her stay? How do I make her my girl? Money? Is that the only reason she's here in the first place? Fuck, do I love her? I want her to stay.

So I blew it all up and I pushed her away. I already told you, she's too good for me.

~~~

Six years later

Now 35, I still think about Richard sometimes. The co-op takes up most of my time, Hollywood was a stressful success, now I live fat off those checks and this land. I ran into Ray, Duffy and Rich, but I never saw Richard. I heard he was doing okay. Six years into an open dynamic, my husband and I found what works for us. My sexuality bloomed in front of my eyes, I spent nights with all genders, except binary men. I always feared they would do what Richard did to me. I knew what he did was arbitrary, it was meant to push me away. It worked.

I heard rumors she had finally moved to Aguanga. I heard she was doing well. I heard she'd only gotten hotter. So I stayed home even more, where I was safe. Safe from her heart-breakingly good pussy, safe from her dangerous mind and safe from the trigger of her radiance. I stayed inside with the curtains closed, like a vampire, like I was dead already. Fuck me, I left the house one time. And there she was.

Aguanga was my beloved home, I felt myself. I slowed down. Visiting the farmers market became my wildest outing. My waist exposed in my white twin-set, and my tits and my tan. On my hip I carried my nibbling, a co-op child I babysat from time to time. Hardly two-years-old, this baby held tight to me as they sat on my hip. I supported their baby butt as we swayed to an old man's guitar. I was spinning and twirling, when I stopped and looked ahead, dizzy. And there he was. Older. Saltier. Staring right at me with those same sad eyes. I stared right back. Instantly I remembered the turn, the flip, the switch. How scared I was. How the eyes that once beheld me were suddenly daggers. This man had severe PTSD, a head injury, and a misogynistic side. I loved him even though he was injured, traumatized, scarred and wrong. I was too. But I learned that day that he was not safe. There was much to Richard that was like a petal, hold it still and don't bruise it. Let it be beautiful and soft. I used to want to hold the petal of him so badly. But that petal could turn into a bullet in a second, and that would always be the case.

So I took co-op baby and I spun my ass around. "Let's go find your mother." I said it loud enough he must've heard. I still wanted him to know they weren't my baby, that I was in an open relationship with Pete, that it wasn't too late. Why would I want that? I never regretted choosing not to have his child. Did I owe him that truth? After he threw me out on the street? 

I pretend like I didn't see her. I force myself to have no reaction. I stay in motion so I can't think. That's what my therapist said. I focus on my kids. My daughter, she calls me out for not being more progressive about gender. I know she's right. She explains non-binary gender to me. Is this what she saw in me? Is there something to see? I show up for my son, we get high and talk about the unbearable pressure of being men. I bring up that maybe we're not men, necessarily. I want my kids to feel a relief I never felt. I don't know if I deserve that same relief. Years later I still cringe, I hurt, when I remember how I demeaned her, how I disrespected her. How much I frightened her. And I did it on purpose. I crushed the safety and the vulnerability between us. I used to convince myself I did it to protect her from me. But I did it to protect myself. I thought about her dancing, in her white cotton clothes and her tan tits, the baby on her hip that should be my son, or my daughter, or my non-binary child. I still wanted all the same things. Me and her all day forever with our amazing and inevitable kids because when you're getting it in as much as we do, kids just happen. That's life.

It's all in my head, it's all a fantasy. The good that I see in him is an illusion. The connection I feel with him is not spiritual, it is codependent nonsense. Telepathic sex is not real. He is bad news. I say this to myself all day.

At night, I dream I'm sleeping at the bottom of the sea, an eel coils up my leg. To deny that I want him is to deny an incredible amount of pure source energy. I know these things because I'm an 11 and I can sense things through my portal. I don't want to give birth. I don't want to be a mom. I wish I could tell him that something was indeed conceived between us. A life force. I'm sure he forgot all about our bullshit two weeks of nothing, no way it was as big a deal to him. He's an asshole. 

I remember everything she ever said. She was here for so little time but what she gave me was so big. I remember the way she didn't give a fuck, the way she called shit out. I remember the tiny scar on her forehead like a smile. I remember her smile. I remember her saying "Hey Richard can I talk to you?" after I threw shit at her car. Why didn't she just leave? Why come back and try to talk to me? Cunt. It took a lot to scare her off, she's too brave. Like me. I remember early on, one nothing morning, I passed my hand down her back. I did it naturally. She looked back at me for just one moment which almost made it real, and I could tell she accepted it naturally. This was long before we fucked. She's more gorgeous now. Her hair is down to her ass which got fatter. Walking around like God sent her. Evil fucking bitch. I remember this pain.

"Hey" 

At last. 

I'm stoned to the bone in my pajamas at the Dollar General. I look up and it's Richard.

"Hi."

"How are you?"

"I'm good Richard, how are you?"

"I'm on my path."

"That bad huh?"

This slut is high and wearing lingerie at Dollar General. My wife.

"Well, take it easy man." This is what I say to every man when I'm trying to brush him off without getting attacked. What I'm trying to say is "see you around fellow stoner bro, safe travels and sick waves!" Which I honestly do wish him. I love him.

I walked out of the store and never saw him again. One time I thought I saw him. But no.