Anonymous Intimacy
by Jonathan Quince
Thursday, October 28, 2004 21:14:22
It seems such a vanishingly petite bit of cloth, as dainty and teasing as a glimpse of skin or a scent caught riding the autumn wind. The delicate scrap of red fabric radiates your presence as I cradle it in my hands, cherishing it protectively; your good taste is bespoken by the simple elegance held in this article of your most private clothing. I inhale deeply, and I feel a wave of warmth and light roll through me as a mélange of your personal scents washes over my consciousness.
An erotic intimacy overtakes me as I hold your panties to my face.
In this life thus far, I have neither seen your face nor heard your voice. Yet by the mandate of a power and a value, the decree of a king erstwhile and foretold, we have been brought together in this strangest of ways. Such piece of attire as carries the trace of your most female essence is now mine to hold and adore; it nestles lightly on my fingertips, fresh as you wore it just hours ago.
Be at peace in my arms, motek, as I hold you bodily in my mind. Trust me that I shall harm you not, that my intents on you are only of goodness as I hold, here in my palm, this sweet gift that was taken from you. Thin tendrils of your energy brush against my skin, and I can feel your presence, your wonder, your passion; come with me if you dare, now, to a realm of dreams and fantasy.
My phallus is a symbol of power, counterpoint fit to that passage of heaven betwixt your legs. I take it now in my hands; and as it is enveloped in the aura of your sex, my heart’s blood, thusly roused, pumps to harden it. Iron hath not a contest against the results of such excitement as you wake in my body and in the element of my manhood; and presently, erect and strong, I am ready to ride for whatever journey unto which a tryst with you may take me.
Clear as a drop of liquid gemstone, precum stands at the tip of my cock. I press it into the bright-red gossamer of your panties, letting it slowly brush into the cloth that has guarded your cunt on divers days of service. Sparks jump to my skin, prickling me like bubbles rising up through the crystal pool of life, goading me forward with silent invitations as the sparkle of your eye might bide me come and push inside you.
With your panties draped over my cock, pressed to the most sensitive skin on my body, I would as if I could feel you in my embrace. I feel your lips on mine as you take to me hungrily, moving to feed as I feed on you and we work together to satisfy a mutual hunger that can never be sated. Entering you, I feel you embrace me from the inside, holding me as I hold you in my arms. And as passion rises, our bodies are joined in a rising flood of life’s energy—electric warmth that soaks through our skin and our souls—liquid light that fills us, drowns us with air more fit than air to breathe, consumes us with fire as we burn, together orgasmic.
Deep inside me, I feel roused also a certain kinship. Were my body reversed, I would be your sister of flesh; and as I feel your panties set delicately about the curve of my hips, my cunt presses to your vulvar bed, and my wetness flows forth that my juices may mix with the traces of yours. I feel you again in my arms as you embrace me in sameness, and we enter into the dance of female adepts at passion, making love to and knowing each other as, by birthright, only one female to another ever may.
Whether by combination with male or female, you fit with me as a piece in a puzzle that can be assembled in myriad ways.
These, the hours before my birth, mark the time of my mother’s travails ere my first passage of this life through the wonder of the cunt. It is fitting, therefore, that the sweet gift given me this night is none other than the clothing that covers yours.
We are strangers in life, you and I; though I hope we may yet meet on one fine and fateful day, your panties are my first introduction to you, a very special handshake through your most intimate apparel. And since we are strangers, and I do not yet even know your name, that closeness your panties brings us is an anonymous intimacy that is, to me, an indescribable thrill.
Whether you read this, sweet angel, or I whisper it in your ear, let me say only this: For that special touch you have given me by this gift, I thank you.