Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility)

He made his way over to the wall adjacent to the end of the bed, turned on the television and murmured, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”


True to his word, Azmir returned two commercial breaks later with a tray of food. The aroma caused my stomach to growl as I lay there exhausted, fully spent, and physically and emotionally depleted. He placed the tray beside me and fed me eggplant parmesan, pasta, and merlot until I could eat no more and declined. My arms throbbed viciously from being raised over my head for so long. He lifted an eager Azna onto the bed, who quickly found his space of comfort and fell asleep. When Azmir left to discard the food tray, I realized I couldn’t take the throbbing stiffness or sleepiness anymore, so I stretched out my arms and legs, lowered myself in the bed and succumbed to siesta.

I don’t know how long after, but I could feel him slipping in the bed behind me, pulling off my housecoat and when he was done, scooting over to spoon with me. I had then realized the television was off. I slipped back into my coma, but not before feeling the trail of passionate kisses he endowed from my shoulder to my neck. I was too tired and fatigued to make sense of it.

~~~~~~~~~~

My eyes flickered open to the soft night lights of the marina casting through the curtains of the bedroom. I felt soft lugging at my body, but was too much in a fog to immediately catch on to Azmir summoning my body from sleep. He was rubbing my breasts and breathing into my neck. I looked at the clock that was straight ahead and saw it four sixteen in the morning. It seemed as though I’d just shut my eyes for the night. Seconds later, he was mounting me. My thighs opened to him instinctively. He found his way into me via his finger, making sure to awaken my canal.

It didn’t take long as I heard, “You’re so wet...so ready.”

He pushed himself inside of me, communicating his regrets and apologies. It was like slicing through smooth butter, my body had just welcomed him in despite the late hour. My stomach spasms started from the unrelenting pleasure of his lazy thrusts. His stride was strong, slow, and purposeful. Even at the inconvenient hour, he took his time working me. His pulls were gentle, his plunges less. His ragged breathing was rhythmic in my ear and his grasp of my torso was needy. Azmir was making love, meek and gentle. His body trembled with trepidation at every plunge. He was afraid. Frantic, even over his thrust.

Out of nowhere, I began to cry again. The tears wouldn’t stop. He felt so good on top of me, pushing his love inside of mine, trying to once again become one with me. He commanded my body from scent alone, but this... We were so connected. In and out, in and out…he stroked me gently with his elbows buried in the mattress aside my ears. Azmir’s tongue chartered my mouth hungrily as if on a mission. He made sweet love to me as I lay beneath him, bruised and vulnerable. It not only stimulated my body, but it also sent my mind on a flight.

All this time, I felt that he was leading me on my journey of self-discovery and motivating me to seek out my purpose and push my demons behind me. But in that moment, I felt that I didn’t know who guided who—who was sent to help who. I’m not sure it mattered because I knew I needed him. I needed him just as he professed needing me. I had no where to go. Yes, I’d had my home that was now occupied by his mother, but it wouldn’t have been any more of a home had it still been vacant. Azmir was where my home was. More than the abundance of space this apartment provided, he was every bit of the substance that made it a home—my home.

I still didn’t get it all. I was still confused about so much, but one thing was for sure and that was my incredible, magnetic, and most powerful connection to this man. I felt it in my heart, and somehow in my body, as he penetrated me. My legs started to stiffen.

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