Big Blue Sky Mining

I got to thinking about yesteryear,

and recalled a time when I sat on a porch, watching and waiting as a storm approached. Barely sheltered beneath the overhang from the blistering heat of a summers day... 

We were living in Kambalda, a small mining town in Western Australia, of roughly five thousand people, mostly men. The majority were housed in the cell-like barracks of the single mens quarters. Because we were married, we were lucky to have a small house owned by the company, for a nominal rent deducted from our pay check once a month.

The town itself was a little odd in that it was actually two towns, East Kambalda and Kambalda West and lies approximately 380miles inland from Perth, 80miles north of Norseman and 35miles south of Kalgoorlie. The 'claim to fame' of the original town of Red Hill, where East Kambalda now stands, was gold. Percy Larkin, a prospector, discovered in 1897 large shoots/veins of gold that started a goldrush and produced over 30,000 ounces over the next ten years. By 1908, the gold, and the hopeful had long gone, with the land reverting to scrub and bush once more.

Not until 1964, the year I was born, when Western Mining Corporation began an exploratory drilling program to prove up Kambalda's nickel reserves, discovered ten years prior, did the people start to come back. By 1966, full production had begun at Silver Lake Mine, which sparked the great Australian nickel boom of the 60's and made fortunes for some speculators on the stock exchange...and lost fortunes for others.

I don't remember now when Western Mining Corporation began drilling for gold, but I was there in the late 80's when they were.

The people that lived and worked in Kambalda, were without a doubt the hardest working, toughest and some, the most downright ornery SOB's I've ever met in my life! They played hard too, yet were family orientated and loyal. Once you became a member of 'the mining family' you were treated as such and it was something that we all relied on. Especially when times got tough or when someone needed help. A more generous, compassionate, caring and fun-loving bunch of misfits from around Australia and different parts of the world, who were far more than just the people we worked with, I've yet to meet. They were our friends, our neighbors, our extended family. 

For recreation, we had Lake Lefroy on the doorstep. A massive salt lake covering over three hundred square miles, perfect for land yachting and for the optimistic contenders looking to break and set new land speed records.

The first time I saw it, was on the day I arrived. Coming from Kalgoorlie, I came over a rise and saw what appeared to be the ocean spread out before me. It looked breathtaking, with the water glittering so brightly in the sun that I had to squint. It went on forever disappearing into a mirage of shimmering reflected heat.

Yet I soon learnt that most of it though, is only a few inches deep and not even that in the summer. The water would evaporate in the scorching heat and the top would dry to a thick crispy whitish crust that rusted metal like acid. One lesson I never forgot as I learnt it the hard way came at a tough personal cost to my tenderest body parts. Stuck in the bottom of the goldmine pit sampling and cooking in the 48C heat (118F)I watched as the water truck came down the sloping dirt road into the open cast pit, spraying down salt water on the road to lay the dust. Desperate to cool off, I jumped on the running board of the truck as he came closer to where I was and asked the driver if I could get wet. He obliged and I was duly saturated from head to toe and grinned a mile wide at the instant relief. Until I started to dry. An oven-like dry heat that sucked the moisture from your skin, soon had my skin, hair and clothes dry in minutes. But I had forgotten about the HIGH salt content. As I dried while I worked, moving along behind the drill rig and taking samples from different depths, the salt began to crust behind and around the shell of my ears. Between my thighs front and back, under my arms and my neck. It felt like ground glass with every movement, scouring the skin raw over the last hour of my workday until I could barely move from the pain... I learned to rinse off after that in FRESH water.            

There were places we'd swim, left over pit mines, that because they were below the water table, they'd stay filled with salt water and became pit lakes. Some were impossibly deep yet the salt saturation was so high you virtually couldn't sink. Amazing how quickly even the bizarre became normal. It was great for learning to swim in or how to windsurf... Even if it did totally mess with your head.

One day, while heading between jobs, I stopped the ute by the side of the lake and watched the Oils, -the rock band Midnight Oil, do some takes for their music video, Blue Sky Mine... Totally surreal watching this big tall bald man hopping and bopping around on the salt flats, looking for all the world like he were doing a parody of a rain dance. The other members of the band beating their instruments, assistants and the like gathered around and a track had been laid with a rolling train like contraption that a cameraman appeared to use, to pan around them. Fabulous music video and shows a lot from the town too including the Red Hill lookout. The song follows...even better loud!

We also had the local speedway, the horses we kept and rode and the music club. That was fun. A Sunday arvo at our place, would mean a house full of muso's and their instruments surrounding our collective children, as they banged away on drums, triangles, kazoos, whistles and harps. Even a few upturned cooking pots with a wooden spoon or two made a good racket in a pinch. We'd cook a 'few shrimps on the barbie' and jam the day away, until we were hoarse and the little ones had conked out. We were pretty good too! Even did a few gigs at several pubs...

Then there were the incredible places worthy of visiting like the run we did down to Esperance on the Great Australian Bite, with it's perfect, perfect! Empty white sand beaches and waters so clear it was like looking through glass...   

So I sat on the porch after working all day... The heat felt alive, rising up in waves to envelope and exhaust me of energy on contact. It even seemed to displace the very air itself, so hot and dry that it always left me slightly breathless, even after three years of living there. I thought about how that same heat which left my skin and eyeballs parched from the extreme aridity, sucked away any and all moisture, so that I rarely sweat. On this particular day, I was minus my steel cap boots and thick socks, my cargo shorts with every pocket crammed full with tools, bits and bobs, my t-shirt and hardhat. Sitting there in nothing but my bra and knickers, nursing a cold brew in one hand and a cigarette in the other, staring off to the horizon. Watching the storm approach. 

My clothes were littered by the backdoor, the chair I sat back in was old but comfortable and I had propped my legs up and crossed on the wooden railing in front of me. Hadn't even entered the house proper to shower, but had reached through the back door instead, flicked the fridge open and grabbed a beer. My hair, face and body where my work clothes didn't cover, were filthy with a thick layer of red dusty grime from the opencast gold mine pit where I worked.

That day I'd been a sampler, following along after the drill rig, taking samples of ore from each level and bagging them for collection. If you check out the music video at the bottom, you'll see the blasting, where the holes the rigs made, drilled into the rock every few yards or so, were filled with explosives, topped with blasting caps and wired back to an ignition box by the bombing crew, that came in after the samples had all been collected.  

A bit simplistic for sure, as there was no doubt more to it...

It could take them up to a week, just to fill all the holes... and scarcely seconds once rigged, for detonation to complete their work. Then the big trucks would make their way down, with the huge shovel rigs that filled them, to clear away the ore... and the process would begin once more...

Being a sampler was hot, dusty, dirty work with the sun constantly beating down upon my back. It was all I did for the first year. Just about sent me around the twist! Then I was assigned as a Geo assistant for a month when his hadn't turned up and followed him around everywhere instead. Climbing up and over the huge blasted and broken slabs of quartz, carting his charts and paraphernalia, recording notes, taking readings and the like. Maybe he put in a good word for me at the end, because I was rotated regularly to different jobs after that, going wherever I was needed. From lollipop girl, spotting for the trucks where they crossed the road, weighbridge operator, lab assay assistant, truck driver, roller driver, and general dogsbody/go-to/go-fetch/gofer girl... I loved it all! It was great!

I also worked as a barmaid at the local pub, with the longest bar I've ever seen in my life! And I started a bistro at the local golf club and ran that four nights a week.

I guess I'm just one of those people who can't do any one particular thing, exceptionally well, but I can turn my hand to just about anything without too much fuss. Something I've done a lot of over the years. Lucky for me, it was a 'skill' that was recognized and utilized by WMC accordingly and I was grateful because it kept my job interesting.

But right then. At that moment. I waited for the rain...

The storm had been steadily rolling in for the last few hours. To the east it was still cloudless, sunny and HOT. But to the southwest and coming swiftly closer was a dense black and purple wall that stretched for miles, flashing with fire and brimstone. It tickled me no end that one half of my vista, was bright day yet held the same space as the other half, dark as night. A false night perhaps, but thrilling, terrifying and majestic in it's fury... 

And then it was suddenly here. Everything was black now. I could smell ozone in the air, felt the soft hairs on my body rise erect with static electricity moments before a huge jagged bolt of lightening ripped through the roiling, churning blackness to strike at the earth, with an impact that I felt from where I sat. My eyes had gone 'funny' from the flash, I could literally feel the drop in temperature as it swiftly plummeted and the first fat drops of rain thunked on the corrugated iron roof in a quickening rata-tat-tat-tat. Then... like the breaching of a dam, the deluge poured down in an unbroken torrent, instantly soaking and darkening the dried and dusty red earth. The sound of it swirling around me was a deafening roar...

I stood in the rain with my head back and eyes closed, my underwear instantly drenched and plastered to my body. Holding my hands up level with my chest, the cupped palms were overflowing in a heartbeat as I opened myself completely to the moment. Reveling in the maelstrom. In the absolute chaos and pandemonium of the moment. The sweat, the dust and grown in red dirt of the desert and even the bone deep tiredness were dissolved in an instant. Washing me clean in the blink of an eye. 

It felt incredible. Rejuvenating. Invigorating.

Must have looked a sight, standing in in that storm with the lightening and thunder booming and flashing all around me. The rain was easing and catching movement, I looked back towards the porch where my husband stood with his arms and legs crossed leaning against the wooden post watching me. We grinned at one another no doubt for different reasons. He, because his mad wife was laughing like a loon and standing out in a storm and me, because I couldn't resist the magic of it. And just like that...the storm had passed.

Within moments, the sky brightened once again as the black mass moved off as quickly as it had come towards the north east. The landscape around me settled heavily into a wall of rising heat making the soaked earth steam and shimmer. The deafening cacophony of cicadas restarted and apart from the steady drips that fell from the eaves, it was like it had never been. 

I knew that there'd be wildflowers everywhere soon, orchids and the spectacular kangaroo paw, milkmaid,  poached egg daisies, blue pincushion, pink mulla mulla, orange immortelle, acacia, hakea and Sturt's desert pea. Transforming the red brown scrub land into a virtual paradise overnight.

Nowhere else I have lived since, has compared to the night skies. So clear and filled with stars that seemed close and bright enough to reach out and touch, without the lights from a nearby city to mar their splendor. Or for the storms we experienced. For their staggering fury, the sheer unbelievable intensity...and yet their brevity as well. When living in that teeny tiny town, in the middle of nowhere...

Lunchtime Interlude.

Once upon a time, a hundred years ago...

I worked in an office in Auckland city close to a public park. With lots of beautiful trees, duck ponds and private areas to walk or sit. Idealic spots to enjoy the ambiance and beauty of such a magnificent place, with spectacular views to the Hauraki Gulf beyond where the great conical snout of Rangitoto rises up from the sea. On any given day there'd be yachts aplenty with brightly coloured sails and depending on the wind, spinnakers flying free and high as the sunlight sparkled like diamonds upon the ocean blue to bedazzle the eyes of the viewer.

I loved going to the park during my lunch hour. Lived for the chance to escape outside and went there daily, come rain or shine. When it was warm, I'd be there after a quick five minute walk, sprawled on the grass removing the wide brimmed straw hat I donned. Then my high heels, suit jacket if there'd been a nip in the air and lastly would let down my hair from the knot I normally kept it in at work. My daily treat. To just relax completely for forty minutes or so and 'veg out' in my 'favourite spot' where I'd eat my sandwich and read my book in peace...

The place I chose was actually quite private and shady with all the trees around and just 'off the beaten track.'  It gave me the perfect blend of privacy, sun and shade and was in a slight depression so that I was almost invisible lying there in the grass, unless you happened to walk on top of me...

On this particular day, I'd been reading about Ayla and Jondalar from one of Jean M Auel's marvelous books from a series about Earths Children and had reached the part where Jondalar was sharing a ceremony with Ayla and the Mother's Gift of Pleasures. After peering around to be sure I was indeed alone, I immersed myself in the story once more and stirred to excitement as the erotic scene unfolded in front of me, was tempted into action. I undid a couple of buttons on my skirt and reached through and beneath my panties to stroke myself...

I was lost in my own world, captivated by the words on the page that were vividly playing out in my mind. Laying on my side, the book now discarded beyond my outstretched hand that flexed and grabbed at the grass, I had arched my neck back and closed my eyes to the shafts of sunshine that caught me in the face through the tree branches. Panting softly, I felt the heat rise, juices flow and surrendered to the fantasy and the sheer 'naughtiness' of the moment.

On the verge of climax, the sound of a zipper unraveling instantly startled me into awareness again and I found myself staring into the eyes of a handsome young stranger about my own age. He lay on the grass opposite and facing me, my straw hat tucked firmly under his arm. Perhaps the light breeze had picked it up and flung it his way...

He'd slid a hand into his underwear, released his cock and was stroking himself slowly from tip to root and back again in front of me...

Frozen, stilled into shock by his sudden appearance, I simply stared at him. How could I not have heard his approach? I remember the rising heat of the blush that flamed my neck and cheeks, how I couldn't breathe yet felt my heartbeat thundering in my veins. My first instinct was panic, to flee. To leap to my feet and run off. I was a long distance runner in those days and what I lacked in speed, I made up for in stamina. 

But he smiled at me, brought his fingers to his lips in a shushing motion, then gazed to where my wet fingers still lay and the view beyond.

Something passed between us. 

Though we never said a word to one another, by some mutual unspoken agreement, we resumed our play. We watched the other. The excitement of 'seeing' and the thrill of what we were doing in broad daylight in a public park no less, not to mention we were perfect strangers, had us both on the verge in minutes. Biting the knuckles of my free hand, eyes glued to the mesmerizing movements of his hand as he quickened the rhythm in a fascinating show, I came. Hard. Still too loudly, even with the fist I'd jammed in my open mouth. Then he was groaning his own enjoyment and spurting on the grass between us, thrilling me completely.

After resting for a moment, we grinned at one another, tidied ourselves up and walked away in opposite directions.

I never saw him again, but the following afternoon I cautiously returned to 'my spot,' where I found a fresh bunch of freesias. They lay in a posy where I'd laid on the grass. I looked about me warily, still somewhat startled by my brazen behavior of the day before, yet relaxed when I realized I was indeed alone. Bringing the flowers to my nose, I drank in their perfume that to this day, still makes me smile in remembrance.  Were they from him? Who knows... I’d like to think so.

The Gift of Surrender.

Sometimes it's the sight...

of someone else, making memories of their own, that sends me back in time with a shiver and a smile to a perfect moment...

A perfect day...

A perfect recollection of yesteryear and a favoured cafe on Ponsonby Road, where we got engaged and planned our future together. The seafood platter we would order and share of red snapper, green lipped mussels and the fat scallops with their bright orange roe that we fed to one another. And the oysters in their half shells, do you remember how I licked the juices from your chin? The thrill that ran through me as you’d groan in my ear, your fingers caressing my throat with a promise of more...

I smile as I write, remembering it all as though it were yesterday. Time. Time when we spent hours, days, weeks at a time, loving one another. Trying with our bodies to show the other how deeply we felt, to fit in each moment, each minute that flew by too quickly, to when you would be winging your way back across the Pacific. Taking my heart with you, never knowing when or if you would return...

I remember coming to your hotel room in the heat of a balmy summer night, in a short halter neck silk dress. My hair tied back with a matching long silk scarf...

Your smile as you saw me and drew me inside and into your arms, how hot and hard your body was pressed up against mine. How deliciously naked you were and the hours you seemed to take, just to undress me, laving, licking, biting and teasing my skin as it was revealed. How you stopped the words that started to tumble from my lips with your own and how the fire, already burning under your onslaught turned nuclear.

Lost in passion. Unraveled and completely consumed by the fiery lust racing through my bloodstream, as you kept my hands immobile with one of yours wrapped around my wrists. Took me as you wanted and tapped into a hunger to be dominated in bed, that I never knew I had. All I could do was feel and melt around you, as your mouth, your tongue, your teeth and the fingers from your free hand drove me so high...that I touched the sky in a blissful surrender. Long before you ever slid inside me...

Your hiss of pleasure as my hands, finally free to roam at last, gripped you to me tight, my nails digging into your back, your ass, the slow friction of our bodies as you set the pace, almost unbearable in my need. Your eyes on mine, the laughter in them as I went wild beneath you, but still your hips kept the slow steady pace you set.

Reaching for the scarf, you ran it over my skin. Down my neck and slowly over each breast, my nipples so hard that the sensation of the silk over the tips, sent me crashing and screaming into oblivion again. I tried to take you with me, but instead, you held yourself still and deep, your eyes closed and your mouth open as you groaned through my climax. My beautiful man...

Before I even had the chance to come down, my foggy brain realized you were tying my wrists together and I panicked. Struggling, bucking against you as I tried to get free, only to have you still my fears once more with a kiss.

Tethered to the bed and spread-eagled my legs, all I could do was watch you in shock as you then took that away too and covered my eyes. Fear was my first thought. We hadn't known one another that long and the fleeting thought of a headline, my name, murdered, flitted through my mind as I moaned weakly at my own stupidity. Until you blew it a way with a soft caress stroking down my face and whispered words in my ear telling me to relax and...enjoy...

Utterly vulnerable. Open. Unable to hide me or my responses from you, behind a chosen mask. All pretenses gone as I submitted completely to your control. Trusted you implicitly to see to my needs.

Never had I ever felt anything as much or felt ever truly as alive as I did that night.

I had thought the exquisite agony of bearing a child was the ultimate sensation I could live through.

It was nothing to what you gave me, showed me, shared with me........and still do. 

Thank you my love.    

P!nk - Try

Neon Trees - Everybody Talks

Once More Into The Fray.

Her Story

Del sat nervously waiting at the bar... 
Glancing up now and then to check whether or not her date had arrived yet. Couldn't help but wonder yet again, why she was here at all and how she'd let Brea talk her into agreeing to meet him in the first place. It was ridiculous she thought, surely she was far too old for this sort of carry on? As her eyes had flitted restlessly to the young people surrounding her, dressed in even less finery than she remembered wearing at their age. The music came through loud and insistent from the next room, blasting into the comparative quiet every time the doors had opened. It sounded primal, urgent, with a throbbing sexual beat that stirred the blood and called like Pan's pipe. A very wicked Pan...as she'd glanced down and seen her rebellious foot keeping rhythm of its own accord.
I guess there really is no fool like an old fool. The thought had tumbled into her brain, but it was enough. Standing now, she took one more quick look around then resolutely picked up the small glass of liquid courage and downed it in one hit. Deciding then and there to get her ass back home where it belonged and forget the whole damned thing.

Almost made it she thought, when she'd felt the touch of his hand on her arm. Looking up and into the mirror behind the bar, she'd caught her breath and nearly swooned.
Only to laugh instead, just from the sheer joy of seeing him again.
Saw them caught in a moment to the exclusion of all around them, reflected back from the glass; he tall and striking, still fit and strong even with the silver wings over his ears now. It had only added to his sheer presence, and those laughing eyes she remembered well. The specs were a nice addition and that sensual wicked mouth did nothing to hide the sheer masculinity of his handsome face. Good Lord, the things that flitted suddenly through her mind, making her ache down deep and think of things she'd not thought of in years...

He was dressed in a very expensive lightweight suit, with a crisp cotton shirt open at the throat. He wore it with a practiced abandon, a self confident assuredness that oozed from every pore. He had kept himself fit, the body beneath looked hard lean and uncompromising...like he'd have the stamina and drive to go all night long... She shook her head, where on earth had that come from? Yet he seemed oblivious to the hungry eyes he drew while she struggled to remember how to breathe and find her balance for her shattered equilibrium.

Del watched through lowered lashes as he looked her over and was pleased by the appreciative tell in his eyes, the answering grin. She stood tall too, but not quite as tall as him, a little curvier now than the once slim beanpole she'd been way back when, her hair still dark for the most part hanging loose and lush down her back. Though her face, or so she'd been told, still looked the same with a softness that Dave had said was always her most attractive feature. Dark brown eyes with just a hint of mascara, as she'd felt too nervous to experiment with more, having long since forgotten the fine art of applying makeup. A few lines at the edges of her eyes too, her life and laughter lines Dave had called them. High cheekbones and full lips that she painted the same red as her dress. It clung in all the right places and was made of a soft stretchy fabric that draped in lovely folds from the halter neck down over the swells of her breasts, before nipping in at the waist and flaring out over her hips to end just above the knees. Legs still shapely and long were nude and she'd finished the look with a pair of high soft suede black heels that matched the small clutch she held in one hand.

Turning into his waiting arms, her nipples puckering stiffly as he drew her in, the soft hairs on the back of her neck rising, her skin suddenly sensitive as she felt his smile against her cheek. She made an effort to still the tremor at his soft breath against her ear and his murmured. "Hello Del, you're still just as beautiful as I remember"

Such innocuous little words, yet they made her feel weak at the knees and had her laughing and blushing at the same time.

Del had not seen Alistair Daniels since she was twenty-three. A lot of miles between and water under the bridge, and yet here they were, standing surreal in a mutual fog of nostalgia. Distorting the present with recollections of another time and place.

She never remembered what she'd replied to him, just that he'd taken her arm and led me from the bar to a quaint restaurant nearby. Where they sat and chatted into the night, reminisced about days gone by and attempted to fill in the blanks for the years between. She became aware of the interminable ache to be filled, and not by the boy of yesterday, but by the intriguing man before her, who captivated her with his voice, his words, his light touches. A tall dark stranger in a familiar package. They'd been lovers once, then discovered they enjoyed each others friendship more. Yet it was somehow different now. A subtle something that had flared like a match in the darkness, making them both keenly aware of what was to come. Yet as if by mutual concession, they relaxed into the flirtation of senses, enjoying the building anticipation, patiently keen to draw out the lovely expectation of more.

Alistair talked of a marriage that had ended in divorce a few years back when his wife had fallen for someone else. The two sons and the daughter, all grown up and living their own lives. She smiled as she listened, hearing his voice soften with love for them. She talked of Dave and losing him, her sadness at never having a piece of him in a baby they might have made together. He'd touched her hand as she had tried a smile and said it hadn't mattered, not really... Then he'd spoken of people and places he'd met and seen and she'd been caught up in it all.
She could have listened to him all night, his voice had deepened from the young man she'd once known as she fell into the abyss and was lulled...

Then he'd taken her hand as he led her to his car, opened the door only to block it with his body and pull her flush against him. He was hot. The heat of him dispelling the cool early morning air, only to feel every delicious inch of him press against her softness. His mouth at her throat and that soft chuckle as he breathed against her skin ...and finally his mouth on hers, demanding, thrilling...


TBC....

His Story

It had been years since he'd heard from Delwyn...though once in a blue moon he'd thought of her.

Gabriel's Mile

Chapter 2.

            Gabriel became Thomas the minute he enfolded Mina into his arms. With her touch, every memory, every moment ever shared between her and her dead husband passed instantly to him. He simply was Thomas.

She clung to him desperately as he held and stroked her gently, murmuring words of endearment and comfort while she cried, too overcome as yet for words. But he could slow time for Mina. Give her every minute; every second and every millisecond of what there was of it that remained. He would use it all so she would not awaken from this reality, to be yet again old and alone. Never again.

     And then he allowed Thomas, the essence of Thomas to come through. Smiling now as he watched the colors and energy of the love these two had once shared expand and fill the space between and around them. Watched, as it grew bigger still mushrooming outward, pulsing like a beacon as pure light and power converged. They were simply glorious.

If only mankind could harvest but a fraction of the energy of their emotions, there’d be no need for the constant search for a sustainable source. Yet they did not even realize the enormous potential of the life force that powered up from the moment of conception. Nor did they see it drain away from it’s casing in that instant of death; dispersing like dust to the four winds. Didn’t see. Couldn’t, wouldn’t see, until the very end that very same energy all around them, had always been there. That all living things were simply part of the stream of connected consciousness, flowing throughout the universe. For humanities vanities and variants dictated their actions as they waged war on their own survival throughout the ages. Seeking not the pleasure and purpose of the here and now, but in constant craving of their eventual redemption in what came after.

So he held Mina in his arms and stroked her sorrow into passion, watched as it flared and enflamed with such an aching beauty that it still after all this time, had the power to enthrall. He lifted her high above him as she clung to his shoulders and nuzzled against the warmth of her belly, tasting her skin and groaning with impatience. He was starving for what she alone could give him and he had no compunction about taking it all. Yet in the taking, he could make it worth her while. He would give her that. Again and again until her exhaustion eventually won out and the fragile tether that held her in place to this life separated.

Inhaling and closing his eyes, he reveled in the warmth of her blood rich flesh and sensuous femininity. He could smell the heated arousal of her pussy softening and readying for his mouth. His cock and abruptly, he could wait no longer.

Carrying her from the pool, he lay her down in softness upon the bed as the flicker of candle light cast a gentle glow over shimmering wet flesh. It drew his eye to the loveliness of her as he moved to lie beside her, gathered her close so they lay on their sides and brought his mouth to hers.

The kiss went on forever. He was sated with her energy long before their wet mouths parted. Could have stopped there. But he didn’t. Fascinated by her response to his touch he let his hands tease and torment. Pinch and grasp and watched her face as she melted into him in appreciation. She was glorious and generous in her giving and he wanted. Needed it all; the way she arched her back and thrust her breasts against him when he yanked her head back by her hair. The way she lifted one long smooth leg and draped it over his hip and rocked against him. He directed the flow of energy to fill and swell his shaft harder. Fuller and thicker as he pushed back against her. Rocked it between her slick lips and teased her until her juices flowed over his cock in a heated rush and she cried out. With eyes wide open, her mouth an ‘o’ of ecstasy as her rosy cheeks blossomed under his onslaught. And he hadn’t even tasted her yet…

Her nipples had turned to stone as he bent and slid one into his mouth, drawing hard upon the sensitive tip and sucking it deep. Not letting her body come down, but fanning the flames once more. He pushed the flesh together and ran his tongue across in a lazy sweep from swollen tip to swollen tip and relished her startled whimpers and her building cries. On and on, still stroking his cock between her velvet soft lips, from root to crown until she mewled in frustration and tried to force the head inside her tight sheath. Until her words poured free as she begged him to fill her up. Told him how she ached to feel his cock stretch her, abrade her most intimate flesh again and leave her sore and satisfied as only he could. To feel anew the splash of his seed as he branded her womb, her heart and her head. For he lived there still.

“Love me Thomas…it’s been so very long. Free me from my torment my love. My beautiful man.” Harsh whispered words that broke into a sob. Just words that he lifted and cradled. Eased with a soft “Shhhhhhhhhh there sweetheart…there my love, I am yours ever and always love. Ye can take me in you. Squeeze my cock and beat your sweet feet upon my ass, flay my back with your nails love, bite me. Fuck yes! You feel so hot, so sweet and saturated my love…..I could never…ever get enough of you! I love you! Love you Mina. Even when you’d suck me cock dry with your scalding wet pussy, all I ever wanted…..needed, was to love ya again.