Sex

The first, second and third time I couldn’t. Though almost persuaded to listen to the flesh, one last heave.

Why am I putting myself through I thought inconsequentially. So many, more erotic for being less perfect, rainbow coloured fish in the sea.

As time wore on she told me more. About group and darker sex, fear and laughter. Who had taught her what. How, before her accident, she would sometimes have three, even four punters in one night. All falang were butterfly, and lied and lied which paradoxically suited her lifestyle. The contempt armoured. Except there wasn’t only disdain. She was sometimes coquette, her prey occasionally worthy, and rarely success buoyed her.

Didn’t fuck so well though. Maybe it was just that she was what everybody desired and was young or ruined. Perhaps finally because of a diffident nature, I wondered

She only admitted to orgasm once in our first few months and by then I had got used to her refusal to ‘smoke’ and lassitude on top. Allways turn to be finished doggy style because the customer comes quickly and she had to participate very little.

So shy, it was difficult sometimes to believe what was done for a living. But slowly our permafrost was melting slightly. There evolved a kind of no-nonsense gymnastic ease to the coupling which skirted real tenderness and was my conceit. Neither could I ever discount her virtually flawless beauty.

But, even so, why did I along with it? Min said it was because Surin girls cast good spells and the atavist in me agreed.

But one night, months later, after the gold, at a zigzag in our lives, we made love.

Almost in darkness she nuzzled up her electric ass, every curve mysteriously leading to the heart. Our room a pressurized cabin in a turbulent storm. Closing my eyes to stifle the senses only made an inner light burn brighter. Rolled on her back, legs akimbo, her body willing conception, dreamily siren said ‘one time no condom ok?’ This time.

She strategically hung back, absorbing all desire before adopting her particular spinal half twist, to fold one flamingo leg back on itself, body flexed to be penetrated thus.

Still we hadnt finished. To feel the flimsiest wave of withdrawal; her agenda frustrated.
She inverted the gravity and planes of our body. Where had this creature been hiding? I dared look. For the first time there was no object. Collecting the strands of her hair to be able to gaze, to see the splash of engorged corrugated brown which crowns her shivering breasts. Her orgasm anguish.

She quickly tired from this dangerous nakedness. Such exposure between defeat and love. No longer strong, her limbs splayed, pushing her forms into an obscenely prominent relief.

Coming bathetic.

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