You Don’t Get to Say Goodbye – Episode 6A

Blind Passion

The next day. A fateful day in May. The twentieth as a matter of fact. Love wasn’t in the air. Love resided in his veins. Arteries. Yes, heart, but everywhere else in his body as well. Loins. Oh, hell yeah! Loins! Thoughts. Intelligence.

Ray had turned eighteen five months ago. Hormones? Hell yes. Still a virgin. He’d actually met Mary Ann a week ago through his good friend Debbie. He knew Debbie had the hots for him but she was away at 4-H Camp. Debbie would have been the obvious choice. One quick check with her mother and those plans were thwarted. Mary Ann, though, had been flirty. She worked at Burger Chef. She joked about guys ordering a hamburger ATW – all the way.

Going “all the way” was the big thing sexually with teens. Most talked about it. Many did it. Many didn’t. Ray was a “didn’t” who wished to change to the other side. Less than twelve hours after nearly committing suicide over Elizabeth, he found himself driving to Burger Chef with one phantasmal question on his heart, mind and soul…

Mary Ann

“Will you go out with me?” Ray asked across the counter after ordering a burger, fries, and strawberry shake.

Mary Ann’s blush shot fear through his body followed by glee once he noted her eyes. “I get off work at 2:00. I have a short shift today,” Mary Ann responded with an unnerved look. No doubt the shock of Ray showing up to ask her out had not occurred to her in any universe.

“When can I pick you up?”

“How about now?” She stated as she slid his food to him.

Ray’s turn to feel shock hit him like a fiery blast furnace. He hadn’t expected a date today and it was only 1:10. Apparently, Mary Ann did not care too much for her job. She walked to the back of the store, told her manager she did not feel well and that she needed to go home. She called her mother from the store and told her she was going to a movie. She should be home by 10:00.

Ray sat at a table in the far, back corner. He stared at the burger and fries as though they could help him. Panic flooded his nervous system. What would he say. What would they do?

“Ready?” Mary Ann asked, jerking his focus away from the food.

“Let’s go!” Ray nearly shouted with enthusiasm he didn’t know he owned. He grabbed the food and shake and headed to his car.

One of the things Ray and Mary Ann had engaged in when they met courtesy of Debbie was blatant flirting.

“Know any deserted backroads?” Mary Ann asked.

“I know a few,” Ray responded. His heart had to be in the stratosphere.

“Let’s go to the closest one.” Her urgency fueled his. He knew. He knew she would kiss him. He also knew she would do a lot more.

Ray accelerated, turned down West Washington Street and headed through the mountain terrain toward the Wine Cellars – the most secluded place he knew. Within ten minutes, he parked the car behind a stand of trees and underbrush, making his gold car virtually invisible from the two lane road.

Within seconds they parried tongues. They kissed forever or a half-hour depending on which reality you are in.

At some point they exited the car. Fortunately, Ray’s picnic blanket still lay in his trunk until he pulled it out and spread it in a shaded spot more secluded than his car. There, they lay down, resumed passionate kisses that would make a porn star smile, and writhed as two people who had no clue how to do the very thing they knew they desired to do.

At one point, Ray found himself on top of Mary Ann. He slid his hand up her torso, underneath her work shirt. His fingers met her bra. With one movement to her right shoulder, half-dumping him off her, she used both hands behind her back to release the cloth wall obstructing his path. She rolled to her back and locked eyes with him.

He did not break eye contact. Fascination with the emotional changes in her eyes with each millimeter of ground he covered until finally cupping her right breast with his left hand captivated him. His hands were not small. She fit nicely, softly, into his palm. Forefinger and thumb played lightly with her nipple. Her eyes darkened and brightened simultaneously. He loved the reaction.

Ray lowered his head to hers, again moving in millimeters, until each felt the breath of the other, somewhere between a gasp and a pant. He grazed her lips with his, eyes still locked. Pain. Fear. Ecstasy. Excitement. Passion. So many emotions. He knew he appeared just as wild-eyed, if not more so. He pressed his kiss to her lips in ever increasing pressure until their tongues met again. In the middle of this long-lasting, passion-overrun kiss, she moaned involuntarily. Her eyes, lost in the excitement, lolled back as she closed them with a serene, flushed look splayed across her face.

Ray rose slightly. He maneuvered, at great effort, to free his right hand to in turn free the buttons of her blouse from their locked position. Mary Ann opened her eyes once again. A new look appeared. One of higher level intensity. A look Ray had never seen in his life, not even the movies. His fingers fumbled with their task. She did nothing. He continued to knead her breast with his left hand while his right toiled to bring the hidden into view.

Two years, or two minutes later, he brushed back the right side of her blouse with his previously fondling left hand while the left side of the blouse fell to the blanket, gravity being kind. He lightly plowed her bra up to her neck with his right hand, then used both hands to knead and play with those magnificent mounds of female pleasure.

He dropped his gaze from hers, lowered his head, and alternately teased each nipple with his tongue. Soft, quick swirls and licks and nuzzles from his nose. Ray felt lost in toyland with so many places to go and no real direction. She followed his passion as though a violin being played. He teased. He satisfied every thrill he’d ever imagined. He loved that each thrill revived stronger the second time he pressed for it. The thought occurred to him that he could do this forever.

They rolled around. Mary Ann shed her blouse and bra, suckled him to her breast while both hands drove his head deeper into her soft chest further than he’d dared to go. She arched her back. He knew. He knew she craved more. Her hands released his head, but he kept up the pressure. Her breathing accelerated.

Snap. Zip. She grasped his left hand. She pulled in down to the unzippered entrance. Fingers slipped under panties. Moisture.

Ray felt a rising panic. This was where Nannette’s sister and brother-in-law had interrupted. He was not sure what to do. He grazed his middle finger over her clit sending her back into a more pronounced arch. He kept flirting with the little hot spot. at one point, he pressed a little harder. Her hand shot down and lifted his slightly, guiding him to where she needed.

Mary Ann kept her hand on his, feeling his touch both tactilely and vicariously. All this increased her excitement. He could tell by her ever-growing rate of breathing, her moans coming more consistent, and her back bending she must be a near breaking point.

She slid her middle finger over his and curled it inward. The penetration carried her off to someplace Ray could only imagine. The raging, guttural moan presented itself undeniable release. He knew she just climaxed even though he’d never experienced this before.

He didn’t just like it – he loved it.

He kept plunging her further and further into blinding ecstasy until she grabbed his hand at the wrist and yanked it away. She could take no more. Ray buried his face into hers so quick and so hard their teeth clanked. Neither withdrew and the kiss might as well have been two horror movie monsters eating each other’s face off.

At some point, reluctantly, they parted, separated only by their breath but no longer locked in a soul-sucking kiss. Wild eyes replaced by unaddressed glee and laughter, they lay on the blanket, each searching for words. They had not spoken for over an hour.

“Let’s visit Debbie at 4-H,” Mary Ann exclaimed.

Ray felt an overwhelming pang of wrongness but desired to please her above all else. “Ok,” he heard himself reply. She quickly assembled her blouse back on her shoulders, fingers working nimbly to lock the buttons back up. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Ray asked, pointing at the disheveled bra tossed aside in the earlier melee.

“I thought you might like having easier access,” Mary Ann slyly replied.

A wave of intensity raged throughout Ray’s internal body. He pulled her roughly to him and kissed her with a masculine viciousness that surprised him. She caved into him, rubbing her slightly covered breasts against him so he could benefit from the reduced padding.

All Ray could think of was the fact he would get access to her naked breasts, again. Today!

The meeting with Debbie went as Ray had imagined. She stammered a bit while she recovered from seeing them walk up, all over each other, with Mary Ann braless to boot. Debbie regained her composure quickly, but the pain still lurked behind her eyes.

Ray learned something key about Mary Ann at this point. She was not above gloating. She showed him off like a carnival prize, not only a prize, but the largest, toughest one to win. He felt special. He felt buoyed by the intense attention. Nothing else mattered, at least, at that time.

When they left the camp, they needed to find someplace else to go.

“We could go to a movie,” Ray began, “and find a dark corner?”

“I did tell my mom we would be at a movie,” she responded. “And what would we do in that dark corner?”

Ray felt the puffiness of his lips. They’d already kissed so long and so hard that he felt both lips like balloons blown taut on his face. “Make out some more,” he responded.

“Works for me,” she exclaimed.

They ended up at the premier of a major motion picture which went on to change the landscape of movies forever. Ray would have to go back a year later to see what he’d missed. Neither had come up for air the entire movie despite the packed house and others able to see them necking. Fortunately, the film was so compelling, no one even noticed. If they did, not one person said a word.

They saw each other often. Wherever they went, they looked for someplace secluded to make out unless they were out with friends. Debbie was often one of those friends. Ray always felt a twinge of guilt, but she chose to go with them to carnivals, movies, restaurants, etc.

It wasn’t long before Ray moved into another realm of sexual pleasure. They were out on a “picnic” which always resembled that first date with his blanket, off a secluded road. This particular day, they’d found an ideal spot where they both felt confident no one would come around,

Mary Ann popped the snap on her jeans and unzipped them, as usual, but this sun-drenched day, she shimmied out of her pants completely. She lay naked to the world, more importantly, to him, and he dove in without hesitation.

The split-second his tongue brushed her clit, her back arched enough do drive one of those oversized Tonka trucks underneath. This pleased Ray. Mary Ann would give herself over to pleasure like a ravenous beast to food. He played his tongue along her lower lips, flitting and flirting. He’d read somewhere that if you write the alphabet with your tongue around a woman’s clit, it would drive her bonkers. Somewhere around “h” or “k” Mary Ann appeared delirious. In future years, he would remember this and thank his lucky stars he’d read the article which informed him of this special technique.

Ray and Mary Ann explored and experimented with all the sexual intimacy they could think up. Both were virgins and both lived for imaginative endeavors. When it came time for actual intercourse, however, things did not go so well.

Ray was loathe to hurt anyone, especially Mary Ann. Despite her bravado and big talk, Mary Ann did not handle pain well. Whenever Ray attempted to slide himself into her, she complained and said it hurt too much.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she stated one day. “Maybe you’re doing it wrong?”

“Doing it wrong? There’s only one way to do it,” Ray responded. They were a couple years into their relationship. He would tell his closest friend that whenever they got together, he would get lockjaw.

“She loves in when I go down on her,” Ray would say.

“Stop bragging,” his friend would say because he was not getting any sex at all.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I go down on her much better than she does on me.”

“Again, do I really have to repeat myself?” his friend responded.

“Ok, ok. I just need to talk to someone about this.”

“You probably just have to pop her, you know? Just shove it in real hard and be done with it.”

“That’s a bit crass, don’t you think?”

“Look, there’s those people who would say eating her out on a daily basis is crass. Who gives a shit. Just do it!:

After a while, Ray stopped trying to have intercourse and resigned himself to oral sex. This happened right around the time he proposed…

 

Blind Passion

You see her eyes
Not their color
Passions. Likes. Dislikes. Inner thoughts. Emotions.

You see her face
Not the eyebrows
Telegraphed desires.
Warmth of her smile
Truth of the glimmer from those aforementioned windows to the soul

You see her body
Not the proportions
The manner in which she moves
Everything
When she dances, she’s a smorgasbord of poetry in motion
When she walks she’s a samba
When she talks her body whispers and screams as needed
When she’s gentle, her movements mesmerize
When she touches, the penetration of electricity transits your nervous system’s railways

You hear her voice
Not the soprano or alto
Chords strung in tune to your heart
Strumming away at your soul as a siren invitation
Hunger-inducing
A craving to hear the soft sweet nothing whispered into an anxious ear

Knotted emotions unstrung
She waltzes your passion wherever and whenever she likes
Whether she realizes or not
Captivation a welcome dream to play with in those nether regions between sleep and awake
Dreams but not dreams
Fantasies but, oh hell yes, fantasies
Dark, playful eyes tease and please and beckon and walk away
Cradling your control every step of her way

You buy into passion
All
Every minute twitch of a lip
Every slight rise of her brow
Every sensual wiggle of her ass on the dance floor
Every demure stroll in her otherworldly gait
Every smile she conjures in you
Every smile she displays on that lovely countenance
Every breathless look she steals from you despite your willingness to give them freely
Every hope which blossoms
Every flirt she throws your way

Blind passion drives you
Whisks you against the current of reason
Driving dreams and lusts to unrealistic levels
Then questions their lack of reality
Causing confusion, delirium, more fantasy, more craving
Knowing your best move calls for withdrawal
You plunge ahead
Telling yourself, “I can handle this”
Knowing full well,
No.
You cannot.

Sweet bliss would entail lips to meet
Underneath eyes meeting
Underneath minds greeting
Overtop hearts beating
Underneath moon gleaming
All to sate one, all-encompassing reality

Blind passion…

And more?…