25 comments/ 37267 views/ 63 favorites Memory By: Gigi_Rose Ok folks this is my first time putting anything out there so bear with me. Comments and advice greatly appreciated. ~ Gigi * Sometimes people don't have the best intentions, they're just evil and don't have half a mind to care. Mind you evil is not the same thing as hateful but I guess in a way they're pretty close. I'm hateful not evil but I've known several people who are. Growing up in an all-white town in Idaho wouldn't have been too bad if not for the sorry excuses I had for parents. My mother could have been described as a nomadic prostitute originally from Detroit who loved to take long rides with truckers; she got pregnant on one of those long hauls and out came me. So just that we're clear that is my utterly inglorious and underwhelming beginning; I do not know who my father is and I don't care to either. My mother's one redeeming feature is her desire to try to at least raise me well so she did the only thing she knew how; she took up with Charles who I would come to know as my "father" and we got stuck in Idaho, yay me. Now my ambition in life was never to be like my mother but time and circumstance would conspire to one day make me question whether ultimately we aren't that different at all. I'm not one to feel self-pity for all of the things that have happened in my life but I will only mention them to say that sometimes you have to be your own redemption. I don't hate the people that crumble and fall under the weight of their own reality, in truth I just never wanted to be them in the words of Lady gaga "It's not that I've been dishonest, it's just that I loathe reality." And I made my own reality and lived in it for so long that I almost missed the salvation right in front of me. Summer 1992 "Come on Sarah.... Just one kiss? What can it hurt?" Thirteen year old Deacon Sloane looked beguilingly into Thirteen year old Sarah Madison's moss green eyes with his own deep blue orbs. His look compelled her to kiss him, inside he felt like he would die if she didn't. "But D what if we get caught? Our parents would kill us!!" She worried her lower lip with her teeth and Deacon had to pray for the strength not to grab her and just kiss her. She had always been so cute, so vulnerable and from the time he'd met her he had known that she would be the one; his mate. "Maybe.. but come on who's gonna see us out here? Just one kiss Sarah, you know how I feel about you..." Sarah did know how he felt and even at the tender age of thirteen words could not describe the sense of power that knowledge filled her with. Deacon was the son of the pack alpha, Alexander Sloane, and as the daughter of his beta, Tripp Madison, she knew the kind of influence that position would give her. Mating forever was a serious matter and while she had no doubt that they would one day be mated they had forever to think about it, until then she would enjoy every moment of it. Sarah looked into Deacon's eyes and smiled. He was so handsome; his coal black hair was a little too long and fell around his eyes and ears in an unruly mop that she just wanted to run her fingers through. Right now he had it parted away so that she could see his dark blue eyes that were filled with that dark sinful emotion that was probably reflected in hers. Already he was much taller than her with a solid build and chiseled features that would one day take her breath away. All of the girls at school practically drooled over him both shifter and non-shifter alike. Their little town of Ridge Falls Idaho was filled with wolf shifters and non-shifters that managed to exist in relative harmony. The shifter population dominated the non-shifter by far however and there were times that they would have to take special measures to ensure that certain prejudices never really caused the town any grief. Sarah for her part really didn't mind humans; still, she much preferred to stick to her own kind. Deacon leaned against the tree effectively boxing Sarah's tiny frame against it. He felt like he had been holding his breath forever waiting for her to just say yes. He had brought her out here to this special place in the woods on his family's estate just for this moment. He knew that she was special, that this moment would be special and he didn't want anything or anyone to ruin it. He had been half afraid that his best friend Owen Kincaid would somehow find out and find some way to ruin it. Sarah was so beautiful to him and he just couldn't stop looking at her. For a wolf shifter female she was surprisingly small and delicate. She only came up to about his shoulders now and he knew that with time he would outgrow her even more. Her luxurious blond hair, green eyes and almost pixie like features inspired him even more to be her protector, her defender and anything else she would ever need of him. He always felt like he should look out for her particularly since she was the last and only girl in a family that already had four boys. Her mother had died when she was only a baby and her father Tripp had never and would never remarry. He knew that she often felt neglected and overlooked and whenever she turned those tear filled green eyes on him he wanted to make it all better. Right now her long blond hair seemed to glow in the sunlight and form a halo around her head. "Ok Deacon," she said as she licked her lips, "Just one little kiss..." Her sentence trailed off as he leaned forward and their lips met. Instantly he felt as if his heart, head and entire body were exploding. He was on fire and cold at the same time... and their lips had barely even touched. Her delicate pink lips were slightly moist so his slid smoothly and seamlessly over them. Instinctively he shifted position and his kiss became firmer somewhat more demanding and she melted against him. Deacon was lost, caught in a world somewhere between heaven and hell, ecstatic that she had granted him this much but burning also for that unnamed more. He began to growl softly unconsciously at the back of his throat and against him Sarah shivered. They were so lost in their own world that he almost missed it, that nearly imperceptible shift in the wind and snap of a twig in the woods and when Sarah stiffened in his arms he knew that she had heard it too. While they had been lost their wolves had clearly been on high alert. "What was that?" Sarah asked him with her tiny hand fisted in the material at the front of his shirt as she glared into the gloom of the trees. He knew that she was afraid that someone would catch them and no matter the circumstances Deacon hated when Sarah was afraid. If it was Owen out there he would kill him... "Don't worry Sarah I'll go check it out." As he was slipping out of her grasp she held him and turned fear filled eyes on him. "Don't leave me here all alone.." A smarter wolf or man would have reminded her that no matter what she would be okay since they were after all far more than human but he was in love or something like it and that idea never crossed his mind. "I won't be gone long," he whispered and had to resist the urge to just kiss her again, "but I do have to go check it out." She nodded and he squeezed her hand as he went off in the direction of the sound they had heard. As he drew nearer he thought that he could make out a small dark shape in the brush but he couldn't be sure since it took his eyes a while to adjust to the darkness in the thicker trees. When his eyes did adjust however he was certain that he could see something small and white crouched between some bushes. "Hey!! Who's out there?" he shouted and he knew he saw the bush shiver and somehow he knew that whoever it was they would probably make a run for it. "You're not supposed to be out here it's my family's land and you're trespassing!!" He was using his wolf's instincts and skills in order to sneak up on the hidden figure despite the use of his voice. He was almost on them when they suddenly popped out of the bushes and what he saw shocked him solid. It was the little black girl that lived in the old shack at the edge of town. Everybody knew them; well they knew them but didn't talk about them much, at least not in the presence of the younger ones. There was something to be said, however, about shifter hearing. Her mom had been black and dad white. The mother had died a few years ago from a fall or an accident or some such thing leaving the girl alone with the alcoholic father. There were whispers that there was something else wrong there but just what it was he didn't know and it hadn't mattered to him. He saw her sometimes at school in the yard always by herself and always quiet. She seemed to always be in old clothes and dirty. She was around eight or so and he knew that she got teased because she smelled funny. He had always thought that she wasn't such a bad looking kid. She had the smoothest milk chocolate skin that he had ever seen with huge hazel eyes that sometimes looked greener than anything and the most surprisingly soft thick curly hair but it was always messy. Deacon barely noticed any female other than Sarah but had anyone asked him he would have said that yes this girl was pretty. Pretty in a very different way to his Sarah but still pretty and she was much smaller. She barely made it to the middle of his chest where Sarah made it to his shoulders, then again she was only eight and humans sometimes turned out to be taller than you thought they would be. He was struggling to say something, anything, to even remember her name because he knew he knew it but he was frozen with shock at the sight that she presented him. The right side of her face was all swollen and bruised looking and her lower lip was bleeding. She was just as dirty as always in a tattered old white dress that had definitely seen better days and her hair was matted. She also definitely looked like she had been crying. Her name was on the tip of his tongue when he heard Sarah's voice calling out to him and getting closer. Her entire body tensed and she turned toward the sound and before he could utter a word she took off like lightening through the trees. He should have taken off after her, he could have more than caught her, but Sarah was scared and needed him. Besides he was still in too much shock since he had just remembered that her name was Skye and he didn't know how to ask her why the back of her dress was bleeding. Pain, tearing, blood and the prayer for death where the ghosts that followed the young Skye on her flight through the trees. Something was wrong and her Momma as mean and hard as she was was long gone. She had put on her fairy dress that morning the only somewhat clean one she had, it was white or at least it used to be but she loved it because the nice lady at the church had passed it along since her daughter didn't need it anymore. She was going to her secret place, Charles was drunk and in a mood and even if he wasn't he had been acting strange lately calling her a woman and looking at her funny. She usually slipped out these days and spent long stretches in the forest on the Sloane land reading her fairytales pretending and making small talk with the trees. They didn't ridicule or judge and they didn't have eyes to see that she was dirty as can be. She was just brushing out her hair as best she could when the old creaky door swung open and in walked Charles. Somehow she had known it was too late and that he wanted to do the things she heard him doing to her momma at night when she was alive. Resistance was futile but she fought him anyway and then she came here to the forest to escape. She had wanted to die she hurt so bad all over and on top of her own filth now she could smell her own blood, feel it sticky and wet between her thighs and the only thing she could think of was to go to her special place to talk to her trees and cry. She didn't expect the Sloane boy to be there, to witness her shame. She knew him from around and had admired him from afar, the pretty young white boy she used to imagine as her prince charming, but princess didn't like dirty little girls only sweet smelling little princesses like that Sarah Madison girl he seemed to fancy. The fact that he had appeared here so suddenly in the middle of her woods was enough to make her heart stop beating. In the distance she heard a voice calling out to him and her heart sped up again. They both didn't know what to say so she did the only thing that she could, she ran away again. Summer 2010 "Gentlemen now presenting the lovely Skye Rayne!!!" The throbbing beat of the music was low and seemed to only feed the air of anticipation all directed toward the darkened stage. Slowly the curtains lifted to reveal the sultry scantily clad ebony goddess as came toward center stage. This world was glitter, glue, fake, diamonds, hard cocks and sweat and she was the queen. All eyes were mesmerized by her slow sensuous movement the world's greatest courtesan had come to play. Their lust and desire fed her power guided her movements and she seemed to become sex and desire personified on that stage. She caught the eyes of all of her loyal subjects but she really didn't see them but she had gotten very good at pretending to and each of them vied for a second of her attention, showering her in a torrent of cash and praise. She gave them everything and still gave them nothing. How were they to know that the body they so desired was merely a vessel, a weapon of pain and devastating destruction to the owner but if they were to ever get too close they would find out and the knowledge would leave them breathless. She was a study in skill and flexibility, a dream that all wished to possess not dirty somehow but polished and sweet. Her face, her body would be the one they would be dreaming about for many nights to come replacing their wives in their lust with her. It was her power, he refuge and her freedom and she used it so well. Finally the music came to its slow sweet inevitable end and as the goddess on the stage moved once more to rejoin the shadows her departure was met with a sigh of such longing that it might have broken her heart if she had one. Then the spell was broken and the crowd erupted in cheers and calls for encores, Skye Rayne exotic dancer extraordinaire was done here. "Hey baby girl great work tonight!! Why don't you think about NOT denying this club of your fine services and staying on, it just won't be the same around here without you!" Hank the owner of Skye's soon to be former place of employment, Club Divine, was all business under that jovial façade. He know she was his best dancer and wasn't too keen on seeing his cash cow ride off into the sunset. If they were friends maybe just maybe she would find it in her heart to care, to make this place her home and settle in New York, but it was just a place and they were just people to her. She didn't have friends and up until a week ago she didn't have a purpose and just flit from place to place ever since she escaped from foster care at sixteen. These days though she didn't do it the way her momma did, she traveled by greyhound bus and didn't pay her way with straight pussy but her earnings from stripping at various clubs. It was a vast step up from prostituting, how her mother would have been proud. She was a name on the circuit and never hurt for work. "Sorry baby boy but I have places to be and things to do, maybe next time I'm out this way." She said it with a smile that she really didn't feel inside. Tonight she would be taking off her makeup here for the last time and hanging up her G-string, for the first time in years it wasn't wanderlust that drove her but purpose. She had someplace to be and a reason for being there. This time around on her visit to New York she had reconnected with an old friend, Ruben Church. A nice kid she had met in the system that at 14 had been lucky enough to reconnect with a long lost aunt and taken care of. He didn't forget the other kids at the old home and in particular he never forgot her. They sent letters back and forth keeping in touch even after she had run away. He had turned out nice, a male nurse with his own place and a pretty little blonde thing named Darla in his sight. Skye liked her and she had never liked many people. After years of lying, she was freelancing here, settling nicely there he had finally convinced her to come spend some time with him in the "big city". He didn't know where she ran off to all night and he knew better than to ask but she had made it abundantly clear that it was not hooking since she firmly drew the line at that. That didn't mean that she didn't enjoy sex, she really did but she used it for her own means and at her own discretion. Usually she used it to inflict some kind of pain because she loved to see that sad look of longing in the eyes of a lover that longed to get another taste. She called herself a one hit wonder because she rarely ever returned for a repeat performance. She was like that Ntozake Shange poem about the girl who wanted to be a memory, what was that line again.... "she wanted to be unforgettable, she wanted to be a memory a wound to every man arrogant enough to want her." She loved that particular poem and play like she did nothing else, ever since she had found an old raggedy copy on one of her travels. It was the story of or life, it was all that she had aspired to be, a wound. But she was trying her best not to be that kind of wound for Ruben because after all he was a genuinely good person. Somewhere in her heart she wanted him to be happy to have a good life because he seemed to be doing alright. But the thing about being as hateful as she was and as angry is that she was conditioned to share the pain and her brand involved a sharing of bodies. So try as she might even knowing that he had a good thing going with Darla within a week she was fucking him and slowly she could see that he had grown far more attached than he should have and wasn't just her friend anymore. The only hope she had to save him was to walk away early and make a clean break of it and hopefully she could save him from falling prey to her own special brand of revenge on the universe against men. Her salvation came in a letter, short and sweet. Charles was dead and he had left her with all the piss poor belongings he had ever had in this world since she was his only living "relative". If her situation was different she would have just ignored it and moved on to another town and another club repeating her never ending cycle. But in truth she had started thinking more and more about the place that she had once called home, the place that held all the pain and fear of a child trying to escape an abuser. Despite the fact that her memories of it mainly held such horrors that even she couldn't face them it was still home and she got the sense that it was where she was supposed to be. So tonight that was why she hung up her G-string she was going home and at the same time saving Rueben from himself. It was almost 4 am when she finally got in, Ruben had long since finished his shift and she expected him to either be home waiting, which wouldn't be a good thing, or out with his lady love Darla which is what she was hoping for. When she got to the front door she took a little breath and if she believed in anything she would have prayed but she didn't. If she swung open that door and he was there either awake or even otherwise in the apartment it would be too late for him, too late for the both of them. Before she could even lift her head from the breath he was already opening the door slightly disheveled but with that worried anxious look that a man got sometimes when he cared too much. Fuck! The kindest thing that she could do at this point was make it fast and clean and hope that he had the good sense to save himself this mess. She walked passed him and paused, stunned at the array of candles, roses and a warm dinner, or was it breakfast, she could see all laid out for her in the dining room. Memory "Surprise!" he said, "Happy Birthday!" She didn't know what to say at first too stunned to say a word. "Oh yeah thanks, that was today." She turned and gave him a meager smile because she was in no mood to fake a smile, this way would be kinder she thought, don't feed the problem. "No Darla tonight?" she asked, already knowing what his answer would be. "No, no Darla... um we decided to take a little break.." he said quite uncomfortably and he even endearingly rubbed his neck and blushed, she wished that she could still blush. "Shame, she's a nice girl Rube, a really nice girl." She made sure to catch his eye when she said it. Wanting him to understand and wanting him to accept it. "Not like me," she continued, "I'm not a nice girl at all." He blushed again and awkwardly giggled refusing it seemed to accept what she was saying. "Of course you're a nice girl Skye, you just don't know it yet." His eyes were pleading, he was already hurt and she couldn't help. "Let's just enjoy the meal, we can figure....things out after." She didn't fight because she was hungry and would need her strength, there would be no sleep here for her tonight it would be best if she just left on the next bus. During the meal they reminisced on old times and she could see that he wanted to ask her the truth about her present but she wouldn't let him. In the end it was her who made the last decisive move. "I'm going at first light Rube, my time here's over and I have places that I need to be." She looked at him when she said it, she cared about him as best she could but she was a direct person and he wasn't a child. The truth was the one thing she had no need to hide from. Emotions from shock to dismay and finally anger flew across his face and through it all she just waited calmly for what he had to say. "What the fuck do you mean you're leaving?! Just like that? No warning?" she just looked at him, he was asking questions she didn't need to answer to, she would just let him get it out of his system. "Baby listen..." she cleared her throat loudly then because the one thing she couldn't stand to be called was baby. "Skye look, I know you've just been roaming around the country, I even know about the club," she lifted and eyebrow at him ultimately she should not have been surprised men in lust, she refused to believe in love, did some strange things "I can live with that, I can live with all of it. We have something here, I don't know what it is but it seems special, can't you feel it?" he looked at her with those sad pleading eyes and she merely looked back. "You don't have to say anything," she wasn't going to, "Just think about it before you just up and leave. Maybe I can even find you something at the hospital? Who knows, we can have a real future together Skye." The last was said with great pleading and perhaps on somebody else it might have worked but of course on her it didn't. She was full and it was time to pack, the earlier she got to the station the better. "Rube I'm not a good girl and it wouldn't work. Thank you for the meal and letting me stay here but I need to be packing and get out of here." And so she saw the anger fix on his face. "Fine you crazy bitch, be that way then. Hurry up and get the fuck out of here. I can't stand the sight of you!" He stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him and like so many others this was how the story inevitably ended, the wound had been inflicted. A few days on a bus would drive anybody crazy but after years of doing this Skye barely felt it in a couple hours she would be home, Idaho. She could already see the exit. So many ghosts had decided to come to haunt her the closer she got to it. She wished that she was coming back a different person but in truth she was not. She was still scared little Skye Rayne from the shack. She might smell better, might even look better but on the inside she was the same and she knew that anyone with half a brain would sense it. She thought about all of the town's folk, those who knew about her shame and those who didn't and ultimately her mind lingered on the old image of Deacon Sloane and wondered how much he had changed and wondered if he remembered her, he should be married to Sarah by now. A part of her hoped he didn't remember but somehow she hoped he did, that single breathless moment they had shared was as significant as it was horrible. It was the beginning and the end of everything. Something was wrong. Deacon Sloane just had no idea what it was. He shifted uneasily and looked around. He sat in Hardy's Bar with his lifelong best friend and now Beta Owen Kincaid once again drowning his sorrows, or was it anger, about his now ex-wife Sarah Madison formerly Sloane. It was actually a scene that had grown familiar to many over the years since Sarah could drive even a Saint to strong drink. "What's up buddy?" Owen asked while glancing around also, "Well besides the obvious. I hate to say what we both already know Bud but you're way better off without her." Yes Deacon knew that now, as surely as he knew his own name, but that didn't mean that he had to say it. "Yeah Owen, whatever... I don't know though I just feel uneasy." He made another sweep of the bar but came up empty. "You mean in general, or just about Sarah?" Owen asked pausing with his beer half way to his mouth. "Definitely in general." It was a feeling that he just couldn't explain, almost as if he was expecting something. He didn't expect anything from Sarah, not anymore. They had been together since they hit puberty and at the time it had all seemed so perfect. She had been perfect but soon after they tied the knot when they had turned twenty there had been no hiding that evil bitch heart that she had in her chest. Just thinking about it made him cringe. She had left him with some deep scars and even now that their divorce was finally final she was still finding ways to cut him. "It's probably nothing. In any case we're supposed to be celebrating not doing whatever it is you're doing." Deacon knew he was right it was just this uneasy feeling and the raw nerves that just a few hours around Sarah could give him. "After everything was said and done she came over to the house, to pick up more stuff," he said, "and she brought her latest fuck boy Tony with her." He knew this wasn't what they were supposed to be doing but he just couldn't help himself. "Isn't Tony pure human?" without looking at him Deacon knew the expression he would be wearing, one raised eyebrow and a grim grin. "Yup" was his simple answer. "Ha! A little beneath her but you know Sarah, she would do just about anything to rub it in and do some damage. I never really knew whatever made you think that you could mate with her. She's a fine looking bitch and all but deep down inside she's just pure evil." He heard Owen's beer smack against the counter and glanced across. A long time ago he might have killed him for saying something about Sarah but that was definitely a long time ago. "That's assuming that I still give a shit, I'm way past that. She was never my mate and our getting married was a huge mistake and I accept that but it still hurts like hell to look at what we've become." He wanted to rage against break something against a wall and just be done with it. "Her fault, not yours." Owen said taking in his friend's demeanor and quickly realizing that it would take more than a few beers to get them through tonight. They needed to run. "Care to howl at the moon?" He asked and in silent agreement the both paid their tabs and left. Even in the dark everything looked exactly the same. The streets, the houses, even the weather were just as she remembered it. After a brief delay the bus had limped its way to the Ridge Falls stop and unlike many of the other passengers Skye had reluctantly gotten off. She felt trapped and willing to do just about anything to escape. She felt her panic meter rising and just as she was about to turn tail and run off again that's when she turned the corner from the bus stop and came face to face with her one safe haven in the entire town, the town Library stood like a shining beacon in the square. It had been her refuge on many a dark and lonely night, she had even slept there a few times far too afraid of what was waiting for her at home. When inevitably she did return it was to be slapped around and called a whore because in Charles' mind it was ok to assume than an eight year old sleeping out was due to that kind of thing. Of course in the end it was he that had made her one. Swallow the pain, don't let it win and move on, and use it on the stage. She stared at the library repeating the phrase until she felt calm enough to take a deep cleansing breath and not fall to pieces. It was still so ironic that this place could do this to her, she who had thought herself so hard. She walked calmly toward the library but passed beneath the thickest tree just before the entrance and that's where she found it "S &T" which stood for Skye and T.S. Elliot. She was such a weird kid but this man this T had given her her motto, "Teach us to care and not to care, Teach us to sit still." She found his work on a back shelf in the adult reading section, she didn't understand most of what he spoke about but that one line of his work had saved her life. Skye turned away since she wasn't ready to go inside just yet, this place was still special and she wasn't ready to breach its walls just yet. She turned instead in the direction of the edge of town she knew the way, would never forget it, her destination was that old beat up shack she had once called home. As she walked she was suddenly grateful for the night since it always hid so many things, like her arrival. She didn't expect to be greeted with any great warmth but she was still grateful to not have to go through the strained ritual of being happy to be back in Ridge Falls when she wasn't even sure if she would be staying. She didn't walk toward the shack so much as wandered toward it, every twist and turn to the still unpaved road was a sharp reminder of her past. Her steps grew heavier it seemed the closer she came to it and even with the coolness of the night she began to sweat until finally like a ghost it appeared in front of her. In her mind's eye she saw it as it had appeared to her as a child; old and broken down with peeling paint and beer bottles strewn across the yard with other assorted filth. As she drew nearer however she realized that things had changed, while it wasn't a complete makeover the yard seemed cleaner than she had remembered and the house appeared to have been painted quite recently. She stood in the darkness staring at the albatross for what seemed like forever until her heart rate slowed and she could release the breath that she had no idea she had been holding. She reached into her oversized pack and rummaged around until she found the key that had been sent to her along with the legal documents regarding her new inheritance. The key turned smoothly in the lock, almost too smoothly and as she entered on instinct her had reached for the switch beside the door to turn on the lights, when nothing happened she wasn't surprised you couldn't have everything. Pausing she retrieved a flashlight from her bag of tricks and set out to explore the place. The air felt stale and musty, it was obvious no one had been here in a while and yet the place seemed clean. At least it didn't smell like beer and cigarettes as she had expected, or sweat and her own fear. She shivered. The new addition of an honest to goodness working indoor bathroom was a pleasant surprise and it was through this discovery that she learned that while the place didn't have electricity it did blissfully have water. She took one last look around locating her own room and then Charles' but ultimately she decided to bed down in the living room, those rooms had too many bad memories. She took a surprisingly relaxing shower despite there being no electricity and no hot water. Afterward she dressed in her favorite sleeping combo of tank top and panties and decided to open a window let in some of the sweet night air to try and cleanse the house of some of its ghosts. At the window she lingered inhaling the sweet purity of the night and somewhere far off in the night she heard the mournful howl of a wolf. Memory I watch as she comes into the room, her eyes downcast and shy. The button down black silk shirt is 3 times her size, as it is mine, and she knows how much I like seeing her in it. Her tight jeans accentuate her legs and ass, making me salivate to taste her. To wrap my hands in her hair and kiss her senseless. I growl softly, signaling her to slowly strip her clothes off and stand perfectly still for me to inspect and fondle all of her velvet flesh and sensitive parts. She leans forward, resting a hand on my shoulder for stability as she teasingly slides her pants off and pulls the shirt over her head without bothering to unbuttoned it. She wears neither bra nor panties, and I caress her flesh with my eyes before rising from the edge of the bed. Standing in front of her, I slowly circle her twice, my hand skimming feather light over her skin. My eyes take in her tattoos, her sleeve, the soft white scars across her back, and the confident stance despite her down-turned eyes, before I stop behind her. She loves this game as much as I do. I run my hands through her hair, savoring the silken texture before gripping it tightly and pulling her head to the side to run my tongue along her earlobe and along the vein in her neck, tracing her pulse. Her breathe catches sharply as I lick down to her collar, tugging sharply on the spiked nylon with my teeth. Slowly lowering my hand down her body, I toy with her nipples, squeezing and kneading her breasts firmly as she begins softly moaning. Smiling to myself, I kiss the nape of her neck and lay a playful nip there as her knees threaten to buckle. Continuing my tactile inspection, I lightly stroke her ribs, running my fingernails along her stomach and lower until I find that special spot and softly tease it into wetness. Turning her towards the bed, I direct her with soft pressure to kneel forward, exposing her intimate places. She knows how much it pleases me to see her open and inviting in that position. She also knows exactly how I exploit her erogenous zones: licking the back of her legs, nibbling the curves of her ass, and fondling her pussy and ass. I watch her body shake in anticipation, her breathing slightly erratic. She knows what is to come. Releasing her hair, I trail my hand down her back and over the curve of her ass, giving it a sharp slap and kneading the pain away. She spreads her legs, opening herself for my fingers and tongue, things we both crave. Pushing a finger into her pussy, swirling it around before adding another, I begin licking her tight asshole up and down. Paying very special attention to counter the strokes of my fingers on her favorite spot with the probing of my tongue in her ass. I drink in the little moans and noises she makes, quickening and slowing my tongue and fingers based on her breathing. To me, she has no secrets, no inhibitions. We feed off each other as two parts of the same sexual whole. Reaching over her, I grasp her hair again, pulling her up as I remove my tongue from her ass and and reposition my arm to continue stroking her. Holding her against me, I growl in her ear to stroke me through my jeans, to feel what is about to be inside of her. Her hand slides up my leg, finding the bulge and kneading me through the material. Unzipping my fly, I feel her fingers reach in and fondle me, fully erect, pulling him through the fly and stroking him over her ass. Slowly, she begins rubbing the head of my cock over her pussy a few times before positioning it at her entrance. Pushing back firmly, impaling herself, moaning as she feels every inch slide and stretch her until I am buried deep inside. I give her a moment to adjust before I begin moving inside of her. Taking my other hand, I grip her throat possessively as I bite the nape of her neck. I feel her hips gyrate and grind against mine, feel her softness and heat stroke me. In this moment, she belongs entirely to me, and I to her. Releasing her hair and throat, I firmly grasp her biceps, stretching her arms back as I quicken my strokes and begin pounding into her with force, smiling at her breathing and little cries. Streching her back and locking her tightly to my chest, I growl in her ear "Do you like me fucking you? Does my dirty fuckdoll like my cock pounding that tight pussy?" She can't answer, only moan as I pound into her with long hard strokes. Biting her earlobe I growl that I'm close, that I want her to drink me. She whispers a soft "Please..." in reply. Releasing her, I grab her hair again as she turns and encircles my cock with her hand. Spitting on it and stroking it before putting it into her mouth. I begin thrusting into her mouth as she sucks and jerks me off, increasing our tempo, face fucking her until I come in her mouth. Thick, hot jets of it, more than she can swallow at once, as she continues jerking me into her mouth. Sucking the last of it out, I release her hair and watch as she licks her hand and scoops all of the spilled come off of her skin and into her mouth. I've always loved watching her clean up after she's drained all of my seed from me. She knows what her enthusiasm does for me. I rest my hand on her throat, gently pushing until she lays back against the pillows, opening her legs for my fingers and tongue. "Now its time for your treat. My fuckdoll has earned it." I tell her in the softest tone I have. Laying between her legs, I lick around her hood with broad strokes of my tongue, sliding a finger and then another into her hot wet pussy and massaging the front wall as I begin licking her clit. Alternating between soft short licks and long firm licks while fingering her, suckling on her with rapid flutters and releasing to lick her slow and long. All things I had learned over years in pleasing a woman orally, but perfected with her. I wrap my arm over her hips, holding her in place lightly as she begins grinding against my tongue faster and faster, her hand burying in my short hair as she holds my head exactly where she needs it. I suck her clit in one last time, fluttering strongly as she begins shaking against the power of her orgasm, holding vacuum as her cries escalate into a scream as her world comes apart. Her nails scratch up my back, drawing blood while her other hand leaves long scratches in the head board. I let go as the aftershocks shake her, my arm still holding her in place since it will be several minutes before she regains herself. I just watch her, a satisfied smile on my face as she tries to focus on finding her way back to herself. My muse, my lover, my best friend, all in one.