THE SEX REBEL OF JESUSLAND, mini-chapter 64

64. THEY SCREW

“I’ve been with a lot of women,” Adam said. “I’ve had all sorts of sex. I’ve been drawn to some of them, but I was never truly emotionally satisfied. But there comes a time when a person wants more than sex. More than good sex. At the end of the day I’ve changed since I met you. Excuse me for essaying this attempt at a thought, but I would go so far as to say that sex without love is like the Bible without Jesus.”

Oh no, thought Eve. How am I going to get him off this line of earnestness? Maybe there can be something more than good sex, but at this moment, that’s all I want from you. You train me, and then I can go looking for the man who will help me with my career.

“What about you?” he asked, and she almost drew in her breath because of the effrontery of his question.

What about her?

She didn’t know what to say. So she leaned over and kissed him.

“Good sex is good, isn’t it?” she said and smiled.

They kissed again. Long, friendly and exploratory. It avoided any answer to his question.

What about her?

He had no idea what a good question that was. What about her? She wanted him for her scientific experiment, to retrain herself, like she did her patients. He had already broken down one barrier. There was one more. Being able to come during the actual act of coitus itself. It was all very well to come with direct stimulation of the clitoris by his saxophone tongue, but could she come while he was thrusting inside her, without this direct stimulation? What did it take for a woman to come when she was penetrated?

Meanwhile, they kissed. Tongues speaking together. A new hello. Suddenly she pulled away and buried her face in his chest. She was thinking about doing this for quite a while, since they had arrived at the summit. Now she wondered if it weren’t too much of a dependent act. What the heck. She nuzzled his ribs. She burrowed down into his belly. She drank in his smell. She liked his smell. It turned her head. He began to giggle, and they giggled together, in a way that looked like it might become one of their established habits of intimacy.

“I can’t give you anything but love, baby,” he murmured.

She sang along, and then stopped herself. She was giving him sex, not love.

Giggling, he drew her lips to his again. The press of her breasts against his chest drove the blood to his groin. Then the urgency of their desire hit them both at the same time. He tongued her nipples like a madman. She tried to suck his knee into her crotch. Her back arched. Her legs scissored open under his hips. She stretched them high over past his torso and caressed the small of his back with the soles of her feet. She felt his hard sex pulse against her belly, then against an inner thigh, then rub against the fork between her legs. He hesitated at her opening, fitting himself there at the gate in a holding pattern. She cried out to him, dying for him to enter.

“Adam, darling …” What was happening to her? She had called him “darling.”

“Eve, dearest, Eve …” Now look what she had done, he had called her dearest. But she couldn’t help herself. The moment was holy. He was about to enter her, like a Beloved entering the gates of heaven to sit at the feet of the Lord.

Then he lowered himself into her. Parting her lips. Filling the opening. Moving past the first muscles. Slowly inching down the depth. In, in, in, a thick tube of living matter parting and filling her, plunging deeper into her until he could go no deeper, her sheath stretching itself to take him in, the shaft reaching down further than she thought there was room. She gasped in helpless, quivering pleasure, and folded herself eagerly around his length. He filled every inch of her.

“Ooooooooh…” as they began to move. Tentatively at first, feeling each other out, before looking for a rhythm, first simply absorbing the contact of hard flesh on wet flesh, parsing the joy of feeling each other’s parts sliding against each other, him feeling the depth of her, she feeling the length of him.

She began to make a lot of noise, and so did he. Their groins met and drew away, then slammed against each other now that they had each other’s measure. Her hips lifted in a rippling pelvic motion, jerking him off the ground, as if some new force possessed her. Their hips met and parted in great leaps.

Two birds joined them at the summit, staring at the two animals copulating blindly, eyes distended, mouths agape, tongues intermingled, saliva dripping, hips going at each other hard, arms and feet grabbing helplessly at sweaty, slithery skins, hands not knowing what to grip next, tongues not knowing where to lick, organs engorged in a blast of heat, the vagina milking wildly at the man with the squeeze and squelch of contractions, the blood-hard shaft on a breakneck mission to snap itself off in the clammy center of the woman’s sex, two bodies clawing at each other in a relentless funk, hearts and minds upended, every second of raw need driven beyond desperation by a monomaniacal hunger.

This mad coupling ended as fast as it started, like a hurricane passing through them and casting them aside. She was still trying to pull his whole body inside her, when all of a sudden another wave began gathering, a storm darkening, pressing clouds in the sweltering sky of her desire. She felt her body leave her of its own accord, and tense itself tighter and tighter into a bunched-up, clenched-up fist around her core, like a flesh-eating plant folding itself around a trapped insect to consume it at a single concentration point, like a flower folding its petals in on itself and trying to become a bud again. The tension mounted till she thought she was going to break where all the paths of her unconscious consciousness crossed. A massive splice was going to burst into a thousand pieces so nothing could meet or fit into each other’s parts again. Her body clenched, her face clenched, and she cried out so loud, a cry torn from her throat via the sudden rootless unhinging of her vagina, so loud that her chest heaved, her heart burst, and her body became pure contraction, a single pulse going off like a gunshot: she broke open like a bottle smashing against the prow of a ship, a thousand bits of her scattered, the contractions ringing inside her like a bell, clanging, clanging, a car crumpled at both ends in an accident, smithereens, a vampire dying with a spear through the heart, but the pulse would not stop, it twitched her, an electric current boomeranged her body, from her extremities to the center, from the center to her extremities, till it felt like a grenade had gone off at the still-point of her being and slammed her apart in a crucified image of the Lord on the cross, arms and legs flung to the four corners of creation, touched by the finger of God with all the force of His omnipotence splitting her, all her atoms splitting in an extravagant and world-numbing chain reaction.

The birds took off and circled over them. Spirits soaring.

It took them more than fifteen minutes to catch their breath as they lay beside each other, their bodies trembling.