Mea Culpa

This did not feel right. He could feel it in his bones and even in the limp boner he got to serve her every once in a while when she got the chance to get on top. He was busy on his laptop and could tell it was her on the stairwell through her nonchalant steps and a pause after every landing. He got up to greet her at the door. There was a long pause and right before she could catch her breath from the climb, his tongue was too far down her throat and his palm was hi-fiving her butt cheek into a slow grab. More like low-fiving but that is besides the point.

He was quick with it just enough to scramble any ill thoughts she may have carried coming here. He was no fool. He could tell the fire was dying down right from the shorter conversations to her indifference and subconscious apathy. He could already see the trajectory and as much as he was ready to let go, there was no way 4 good years could just go up in smoke. He knew for sure the recovery would be slow and painful and she was the only one who seemed to get his weird nuances. Why he loved dropping his clothes right where he stood, down to how he loved his ingredients were sliced and diced in the food.

She met him while he was still reeling from his previous break up. It was puppy love but he was so invested in it. She could tell from how he explained why he found it hard to love anymore with so much pain and conviction. For some good reason she turned him around on this notion he had about love. His fissures still showed no matter how well she polished him. He was like a chipped fine china. You’d still drink from it but there is a chance it might leak or burn you with the spill over. 

He didn’t understand how she was into action movies but he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was fate. He, however, had his reservations about a few of the twists and turns that the relationship was taking. He always had his bouts of depression that made her hate how much she loved him. Even though she never left, there were times she wished she could. She always came through for him. In depression, the world looks so bleak and dark that you can’t even see your hand if you were to put it in front of your face. She was her light in a house of mirrors. He always felt lost but at least there was a light that never doused for a moment.

It can be testy to love someone who doesn’t love himself. The emotional drain, the love you need to have for him and ultimately yourself. The constant lifts every time he slumps and also understanding that it is something he has to go through to get through. No one person deserves to live through such uncertainty. He was in a better mood today. The ass grab gave it all away and she was greeted by a jolly young fellow. Isn’t it weird how anyone looks beautiful when in love or while smiling? She could use the change from the tetchy melancholic who never saw the good in anything. She silently wondered how they even wound up together. What kept her going was that she knew they were both loving the highs they got in-between the lines of a life they both never needed.

“Know you’re loving the highs you get in-between the lines of a life you don’t need.” Tove Lo

He’d always break down at the weirdest of times. She’d always never see it coming while he was on top and getting it good on that advanced missionary. He’d suddenly turn into one dark and heavy cloud laden with burdens she never had to take on at all. The waterworks made her cry every time too. Not because there was a little sense in why he’d say the things he used to say, but because she also saw their happiness to always be transient and very fickle. Today happened to be one of those days that the light came in through his cracks and she wanted to be there for the brief moment of sunshine.

His passion always did him in. He was always heavily emotionally invested in everything he used to do and it opened him up to every form of disappointment this cruel world could deal. This would be the number one reason why she would never leave his side. His family wasn’t even as close to him as she was. All they ever did was make sure he got his anti-depressant medication on time. He didn’t always mean to be grouchy and apart from the few light moments when they took walks in the park, the playful date nights and romantic comedies she learned to take joy in helping someone find a ray of sunshine regardless of the toll it took on her.

She hang her jacket on the hook at the door and as she went in for a hug, her lips met his index finger and instinctively opened to let him in. She rolled her tongue about his finger as if promising to always blanket him from the world. He drew her closer by the hook of his finger and she obliged. He added the middle finger inside the mouth and rubbed her lips with her thumb before he pulled her in closer by her cheeks. Her lips tasted like fresh milk and a hint of peanuts. Probably what she had had for breakfast.

He took a whiff of her neck and took in some of her Givenchy Play and it was game on as he took momentary bites and nibbles in between the kisses. All this while, he relieved her of her clothes and undid her bra. He suddenly had an appetite and took turns circling the areola with his tongue in between the sucking against his teeth and gentle bites. His hands parted her cheeks and lifted her so she’d wrap her hands around his neck and her thighs around his waist.

He let her down ass first on the bed with the lips still locked. Her booty shorts were a bit too tight around her ass so it took him a while to free her well-rounded, jiggly ass. She turned around for ease of removal and it came down alongside her G-string with a small pink patch at the end of the laces. He took his time to take her scent in as he came back up from the back of his thighs and watched her muscles twitch every time he exhaled. The kisses were not helping her case and she almost kicked him from all the tickles. She turned and her ass faced him in all its glory. His hands cupped her thick cheeks with difficulty but he learned to do his cheek lifts from where the thighs meet.

She heaved on every ass lift as his kisses circled in on the target like a kettle of hungry vultures. He turned her around and tried to rock the little man on the boat with his tongue. The little man was drowning in no time from his slurps and her juices. He sat on the floor right by the edge of the bed and took her thighs on his shoulder as she lay her left ear on the bed. His hands around her thighs and on her ass parting the cheeks and paving way for the almighty tongue. There weren’t enough sheets to grab or pillows to bite on. His tongue accurately flirted with her lips making a distinct labial sound on her minora.

He pulled out from between her legs and sat on the edge of the bed as she took the turn to clean up his face awash with her honey. His swollen lips, glistening goatee, mustache, and dreamy eyes were so inviting. They kissed with half-opened eyes and he could see hers roll all the way back as she rubbed her mound on his manhood. The tingly sensation when the cold air rushed past his moist glans every time she rocked back almost gave him a seizure. Their bodies moved in harmony as the breathing got even more laborious with her every minor fall and major lift.

She came back down to his face and both sets of her lips took him in. His shafting was slow, probably from the fatigue from all the foreplay and heavy petting. The tempo was going nowhere but up and his tongue wandered from hovering lightly over her lips down to her areola as she faced up in relish. She lifted her hips in his rhythm and there was a matching cadence in her voice and gyration as her insides contracted. Her butt clenched and that was it for him too. Two last quick strokes as her walls did the rest of the suction.

There was a reflective moment there as they both rolled over in a slump in content lethargy. She needed a few minutes to get her legs back before she ran out for lunch. There was only one meal he had every time she visited. There is a way she’d make the beef with beer and this would sure buzz him up after the piping and tongue he had just delivered. After all, nothing beats a good ugali and beef right after a proper boning. The whole walk down the stairs she wondered what stroke of bittersweet luck it was to have him and sighed to herself. He was too broken and she was running out of duct tape.

She took a while at the neighborhood shop but finally managed to get to be served. It was the only shop open on a Sunday so the whole neighborhood tended to flock. She struggled with the luggage at the door which was weird considering the cordial reception she always received. She figured it was probably such a good lay that he fell asleep right after.

She cooked in silence as she hummed something indistinct even to herself and walked right up to where his body lay only to find the extra anti-depressant pills his body couldn’t take in a damp patch of saliva. The medics were on time to bring his lifeless body back to the living. A tear rolled down his eyes as light and life filled his dilated pupils. He wanted to die. Nobody deserved him like this. Or so he thought. All she was left to do was wonder if she hadn’t loved him enough to love himself.

 

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This is a tribute post for the #MentalHealthAwareness Month

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