Fixing Her

Part IX

"The reason it hurts so much to seperate is because our souls are connected." Nicholas Sparks

Part IX

Making love to Damian was...indescribable. It was as though our bodies were made to please each other. Something about the way he touched and kissed me made it all feel like a dream. The feel of his hands caressing my body, touching me in ways I have never imagined and just holding me ever so tenderly, it made me realise just how much I liked him.

 When he was buried inside me, it was as if I had suddenly been shipped off to another universe where dreams and fantasies collided with reality. The way he pleasured and treasured me, it was nothing like I could have ever imagined  even in my wildest daydreams. He was just too perfect.

Whenever we kissed, touched and pleased each other, it just made sense. Before Damian, too many things seemed senseless and as much as I tried to decipher most of such nonsenses, I had always found myself failing. But with him, it was all right somehow. It was alright to bare my soul and emotions to him, to be as vulnerable as I wanted to be, to cry if my heart desired and to be me without worrying about what he might think.

I had always perceived sex as something magical, something that should only be practiced by two consensual beings who loved and adored each other. To be that vulnerable and exposed before somebody's eyes, it had to be more than the physical aspect that defined such a sacrificial and sacred act. And so lying here, with Damian driving me to the peaks of my pleasure, failing to hold back the moans and groans that escaped my mouth. 

When he found his release, crying out my name, I could have sworn I felt my insides melt. It was strange really, to feel so connected and close to someone like that. It was rare and too precious for me. I didn't want to see the end of it.

"What are you thinking?" His voice was a bit low and croaky as he asked. I had my head on his chest, his arm holding me a little too tight in the after math of our lovemaking.

I kissed his taut chest before replying, "Nothing really. I'm just...happy that I'm with you."

"Yeah?" He tilted my head up to him so that our eyes were now gazing into each other, searching and exploring each other's souls.

"Yeah. You...uh...make me happy." And it was true. Every minute with him was unbelievable.

"I'm glad to hear that." He replied simply, grinning down at me and it was infectious. I planted another kiss on his art-filled arm.

"So, your tattoos..." I wanted him to tell me the story behind every single piece of the beautiful art on his body.

"What about them?" He couldn't stop smiling. It was heart-warming.

"What's the story behind them?"

"Well, I'm a tattoo artist, surely that's story enough."

"You mean you got all this ink on your skin because you're a tattoo artist?"

"No. I'm a tattoo artist because I got all this ink on my skin." His response made me roll my eyes at him. He was such a dork when he wanted to be.

"Which was your first tattoo?" I asked curious, trying to shift the atmosphere from romantic to just playful and carefree. But Damian seemed to have other plans in mind.

Abruptly he flipped me over so that he was hovering over me, his lips only inches apart from mine. I blanched as I felt his erection press between my legs. His eyes suddenly turned dark and lustful and he was just staring at me.