Wine is seldom appreciated by those unacclimated to its taste. The complexity of its flavor overwhelms the palate, causing its layered subtleties to be lost on those unaccustomed to the vintage. Thus it is, that despite songs and poems being dedicated to this most ancient of arts, most would fail in sensing the difference between a fine French Bordeaux and a glass of common table wine. On first taste, many might actually prefer the simpler, less hearty bite of the screw-top variety. Alas, the failure of something so beautiful to be appreciated for the empty sweetness of something far more base.
The truth of it is that wine is an acquired taste. Passion for the grape rarely strikes the neophyte when its fragrant perfection first graces her lips. Indeed, any passion worth the cost of obsession isn’t easily acquired. If it were, the idea of love at first sight would be met with far less cynicism than it has throughout the ages.
Even I, a man whose love of romance never waned, had passed decades without belief such a thing could be more than the poetic vapor it so clearly seemed to be. I had hope. Oh, lord, how I did I cling to that. But that hope was little more than a distant reach of belief, much like one might have in the luck of a four-leaf clover or in having their very own Fairy God Mother.
Of course, a man does have needs. Drives and desires that comfort him while love eludes. As anyone who has read my previous work might guess, I was no saint. While I dedicated my online moments to the site I served and the art I pursued, I fooled myself into believing that lust could replace the love I so desperately desired. It was with this misguided notion that I cynically committed myself to pursuits that had more in common with lecherous leprechauns than finding my hard-sought Juliet.
Ah, but therein lies the twist. For when one holds no belief in the leprechaun, he will inevitably fail to realize he’s standing at the bottom of his rainbow. So it was for me when the lightning chose to strike.
I was online that day, flipping through the forum in lazy distraction. It was then that one of those ubiquitous black boxes appeared. Gazing at the name, I realized the sender was one I had not seen before. Her avatar, a teasingly seductive, bespectacled beauty caught my eye. The rhythmically pleasing name, Simplicity, headed the otherwise bland and monochromatic box of text.
A man might get a rise in his blood from being contacted by a fair beauty, but alas, it was not for love or desire that she clicked ‘send’ that day. In those overly brief and limited communiqués, she explained it was for my help that she made her presence known.
For those who might recall, on Lush, I was a man of some import in those days. Quickly tapping out in black letters on white screen, she explained that her most recent story had received that dreaded ‘1’, the mark of bane all who post here silently fear.
Normally, I would have politely brushed aside such a complaint, regardless of the tasty little morsel making it. What kept my interest was the scathing comment accompanying the score. It was one full of venom and rage, not about the quality of Simplicity’s work, but rather of the very content she chose to relate. Well, Cheating may be a sensitive wound for some, but as a subject, it is only to be respected on this site, should anyone care to compose a story in that vein.
As a moderator, I knew this was a violation of site policy. Opinions can be stated freely as to a writer's work, but the site frowns on lowballing stories simply because the reader detests the category it was written in. Tapping away at my iPad screen, I followed this member's commenting history, a simple task not requiring moderation tools to complete. It wasn’t long before I realized his comment on Simplicity’s work was one of many hateful and vindictive diatribes he had left that day. Clearly, he was on a mission to punish by proxy those his irrational rapture had led him to despise. This, I dutifully reported and, voilà, said comments, and their accompanied votes, were soon relegated to the void of digital nothingness that is the final doom of all internet misdeeds.
Yes! I could then return to this new, sexy minx of sexual energy and have my way, could I not?
Um, no. While Simplicity was grateful for my help, she gave no hint of being game for the cyber-quickie some men might have desired. Indeed, at another time, I might have been such a man, but not that night. My quest for love had just before led me into another woman’s arms, and my hope for love with her meant my veil of professionalism toward Simplicity had to remain in place.
More is the pity, but still, we did chat. Innocently. And for hours. My God, did we chat.
Simplicity, who had no interest in dirty minded release, was instead open to relating to me who she was. Incredibly, her quiet honesty broke down my walls, and we shared our deepest and darkest pains into the early hours of the dawn.
When I finally signed off, I was smiling like a fool. I felt high in a way no drug or drink could match, yet despaired because this amazing woman existed only in pixels on my iPad screen. Fate is a fickle bitch, and right about then I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry.
As I mused above, love at first sight was a vapor to me, a thing to be dreamed but never to be believed. Doubly so in the all too often insincere and fantastical fantasies of a sex-for-play, cyber world version of Peyton Place. I loved Lush, but I could never believe my heart would be snared in the first banter of black box conversation with a woman I’d never before heard of. Impossible, I said afterward, and oh, so many times repeated this to myself as the lie of it all rang increasingly hollow.
Back I went to the relationship I was in, trying my best to make it real and knowing with each passing month it was not. I was faithful and put my heart into it, but its failure can only be blamed on the fact that I already loved another. Men aren’t perfect, and Simplicity will be the first to note I am no exception. I can truly say, I never acted dishonorably toward my ex. I simply ended that relationship once the truth of my feelings could no longer be ignored.
To my shock, Simplicity answered my direct expression of love with the quiet surprise of a woman who suspected the truth all along. Nevertheless, she was insistent that my slate was clean before accepting my romantic overture. In our case, passion was not the first stop on the express train our love became. Sexual fantasy grew entwined with our love, guiding us, and being guided by the ever increasing gravity we felt for each other.
We had many friends in those days. Most of these shared in our happiness, but others found fault in our devotion. I’ll never understand why some around us chose to cause us pain, but the damage done was severe. Simplicity was shunned by so many that she might have doubted our path, but to her credit, her love for me never wavered.
As for myself, I was cocky in my success and perhaps ignored signs I should have seen. Forces were testing us, as if actively trying to make us part, but our love grew stronger with each powerful, but equally futile attempt. We felt anger in response, but in the end, we were always thankful to Lush for bringing us together,
In those days, Domination and submission was very popular. In the fantasy world of our early relationship, we delved into this lifestyle with every intent on making it real once we met in the flesh. God, my anticipation was palpable as the day we would meet grew near. I was convinced that this dream of bonds and chains; of pouts and presents, would become as real as I knew our love to be.
In this belief, we made our vows, sharing our love with several friends in a collaring ceremony carried out on the site. It was something so public I could hardly believe I’d agreed to it. Knowing Simplicity as I do, I am shocked she did as well, but such was the love we felt. We were dedicated to each other, and believed this lifestyle would give us the greatest chance at happiness.
Well, best laid plans and all of that. The day we met at the airport in Raleigh would quickly prove that D/s wasn’t for us. None of that mattered anymore. From the moment I saw her waiting for me at the gate, my only thought was that she was more beautiful than I ever dared hope.
Here dear reader, forgive my deception, but I’ll not relate her true name. Allow me, instead, to call her Juliet, for she is that to me, and I her Romeo, though I’ll not claim that name for myself. What I will say is that I knew her face from the many photos we’d shared, but those cellulose simulations did no justice to the glow of her smile that night.
We kissed at the gate, lovers separated by distance, finally allowed to be together. It was a whirlwind of touches, tastes, sighs and laughs. A whirlwind to be sure, for Juliet drove through the fury of a hurricane to meet me there that night. We ate our first meal together and laugh today at the ease I felt when I stole a shrimp from her plate. It was just as we said it would be. By the time we arrived at my hotel, there was no doubt where she would sleep. We, who had taken our time at cyber play, wasted none at all when our caresses could be real.
I remember the look on her face as I helped her undress. I had gone first, removing my own to let her know the moment was shared. Soon afterward, her clothing followed mine to the floor.
“Turn around, my Juliet,” I whispered as I encircled her throat with the collar she’d agreed to wear. “Now, you are mine.” It was just the D/s scene we desired, but in that moment we both knew this wasn’t for us. Nuzzling her neck, I kissed her skin, tasting her, not as her master, but as simply the man who loved her.
Juliet shuddered, from nerves as much as excitement. “I didn’t expect us to, I mean, didn’t think we’d be doing this tonight.”
“No?” I replied, unbothered by her hesitance. “Would you prefer I stop?”
Juliet’s breath was coming deeper as the heat of my skin warmed hers. With her back to my chest, she leaned into me while her hand slid back onto my hip. “No, I don’t think I do.”
Pressing harder into me, she caught my cock between us and I ground it ever so slightly into the small of her back. My hands slide up her belly, cupping her breasts as my tender kisses became a stinging bite on her neck.
Hissing inwardly, Juliet was writhing, responding with magnificent harmony to my every touch. Turning in my arms, we kissed deeply, my tongue exploring her mouth in a ravenous expression of my desire. I led her to the bed, climbing over her as my kisses descended from her clavicle to her breasts.
I am not talkative in bed, and I soon realized she shared this penchant for verbal silence. We were inside each other’s mind, tapping into the honesty we’d shared in hours spent on the phone and making love as two who had spent years in the same bed.
No, that’s not right, for that might lead one to believe the glorious exploration of a new lovers touch was absent from our play. Nothing could be further from the truth. Every sound she made, her quick intake of breath as my teeth sank into her nipple, or the gasp of pleasure she made when my fingers delved into her depths, were loud then and echo in my mind today.
She was slick and wet, her sex responding to my explorations with a hunger she could have never denied. Using my fingers, I plunged deeply, testing her and driving her ever closer to the edge of bliss. I devoured her breath, sucking at her lips as my touch stoked her fire into a heated need for something more.
The taste of her skin filled my mind and my body grew hard as my desire to make her cum grew in my blood. My fingers were playing quickly over her cunt, strumming it even as my knees forced hers further apart. Drawing my lips down her neck, I bit her hard, pulling her flesh into my mouth. Juliet gasped, whimpering as the pain scorched her mind and then, she came.
Oh, my god, how she exploded under me. Her sex flooded with juice, coating my hand and soaking the sheet. She flexed and rolled under me, succumbing completely to the pleasure I sent coursing through her. It was fucking incredible.
Drawing her legs up, I brought my cock to her sex, gazing into her eyes as I sank into her. Wet heat, slick and tight encased my length and her lips parted in satisfaction as my balls slapped against her ass. For so long had I dreamed of being inside her and once there, I almost hated to pull myself back.
Almost, that is. My instincts were primed and right then, I doubt I could have made myself stop. Pull back I did, only to slam forward again, driving my cock into her with all of my strength. From high over her, I rocked up and back, dragging my cock through her sex with a passion I couldn’t hope to contain.
Juliet held me tight, dragging her nails over my skin as we made love for the very first time. My orgasm built quickly, and when I came, I was wedged deeply into her, no condom or barrier to separate what was hers from that I was gifting her.
We paused afterward, holding each other and sharing the wonder of the moment. It was incredible, but the need we felt was not so easily quenched. Juliet rolled me on my back, taking my cock into her mouth and sucking me with a slow, insistent pace that had me hard and ready again. I thought to once again slide into her, but she did not relent, sucking me with a patience that made my blood run hot. My cock grew harder, throbbing into her mouth as her lips massaged my shaft. She cupped my balls, holding them and squeezing until the torture was more than I could bear. I came again, flooding her mouth with the essence of my body.
We made love on and off all night, not surrendering to sleep until the sun was rising over the Atlantic. I had so many visions of what the night would be like, but none of them came close to its reality.
We spent the next five days driving the length of Interstate 40, sharing our hearts with a freedom I would never have thought possible. We were newly together, but we felt like a couple with years spent in becoming close. I loved her deeply when we arrived in California, but truly, I fell in love with her the first time we spoke, sharing our deepest secrets in a little black box on a sex site called Lushstories.
And that, dear reader, is Gods honest truth.
