Lovers Res

Morning songs sung by birds woke me. The sun shining bright through the thin layers of the tent made it hard for me to open my eyes. The small squints and blinks blurred my vision. Small tears ran from my eyes. Not from sadness or pain but from the intense sun that blinded me for a good minute. The first thing I saw clearly were beads of morning dew. I could smell the early morning breath of the earth filling my nostrils like a perfume only Mother Nature possesses. As I turn my body to get comfortable, there he is. His warmth replaces the suns lack of heat that’s missing from the shine it illuminates. My wiggles wake him. And just like the earth, his morning breath has a distinct smell. Not stinky or revolting. Distinct. It’s his. There’s something comforting about it. I want his morning lips on mine, as if his breath holds the smell of everything that goes on in that brain of his. It’s the sweat and labor of his thoughts and intelligence while he sleeps. As I feel his body and absorb his warmth, I caress his groin. He’s ready for me. Always ready for me. I suck him off like he’s my morning protein shake. Milking him onto my tastebuds, his eyes roll in the back of his head. One down. Many more to go. The adventures of that day would only lead to a night I’ll never forget. This night will be forever imprinted on my soul like a brand seared onto a sow. The beach was incredible. The blue sky was clear above us and the wind was cold but tolerable. I ran to the water. I had to feel it. I needed the Ocean to wash away the thick layer of stress and sadness my home possesses. Fish run from me as I stomp my way in. Splashing water in every direction. I collect rocks and a sand dollar to forever remind me of this “baptism” of freedom. He sees my collectibles and snickers at my inner child antics. He teases but admires my wild child ways. Almost as if he envied the child that still lives within me. But not completely unaware that the child that dwells inside me finally feels safe to be a kid. Our next adventure lead us to one of the quietest places in the world. The hoh rainforest. Our hike into the woods would have us come across a dried up creek. We walked all the way up the creek until til we found a nice little place to put a blanket down. No matter where we went we couldn’t escape the mosquitos. But that didn’t stop us. We were determined to enjoy our time out here. And that meant, more sex. He bent me over and fucked me til I came. Afterwards, like usual, he lit up a joint and we got high. Enjoying the feels of our body after orgasming and getting stoned as the tingles continue. But none of this compared to that night. We both took a small dose of mushrooms when we got back to camp. We laughed and talked while the sun slowly set. And right before the sun was down, he laid a towel right by the fire. We took our clothes off. The silhouettes of our naked bodies lay in the grass illuminated by the fire. I laid my body down and he climbed on top of me, and made love to me by the fire as the sun was setting. The mushrooms started to kick in by this time and the combination of the heat from the fire on my right leg; the cold from the air on my left, and the feeling of his furry body rubbing up against me made my orgasm that much more intense. No other man has made me feel this intense. This safe. This seen. This. As he’s about to finish he slips it in my ass and cums deep inside me. His O face gives me this feeling of satisfaction that can only be fulfilled by the literal filling my ass experiences when he shoots his semen inside of me. And as if that wasn’t an experience to remember, it still wasn’t it. We sit by the fire, enjoying each others presence after making love, and he starts to speak. Reminiscing about the night before. Reminding me of the conversations we were having, it starts to build up. I don’t see it coming though. I honestly didn’t expect it for a long time, if at all. But as the light of the campfire dances across his face, he looks at me, and says it, “I think I love you too”. And with every fiber of my being, I believed him. I didn’t have to question it. His actions had shown that for a while, and I was okay with that. Actions speak louder than words anyway, right? Besides he’s not the type to just say it. He doesn’t say anything unless he means it. This man loves me. And it may not be in a traditional sense, like in a “man and wife” way. But it doesn’t matter. Love comes in all shapes and sizes. His love is one of a kind. And it’s a love I’ll remember for the rest of my life.