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THE Sun Shines
“Gods, how I love you…”
Even if she had not said it aloud, I could feel it ring true all over my body, right down to the bones, as I held her close while the convulsions racking both our bodies diminished. The waters gently lapping against the sides once more, as we both reveled in the afterglow of our lovemaking.
“What now, Jaguar Knight?”
I smiled with my lips and eyes at the question. The way that she said the words, Jaguar Knight, was not in a mocking tone, but rather formally, which elicited tiny twitches of life from me. Of course, being the man that I am, I did not think that far ahead. The smile did hide the clogs turning in my brain however. I needed to come up with some sort of finale to our playtime. And being the man that I am, I just could not make my brain work fast enough while relaxing in the warm water in the embrace of the woman I love.
Then it hit me. It was a lame idea, for sure. But at this point, an idea was an idea, even if it was a lame one. Besides, I would be the first to say that a man at my age can only go for so many times in one a night. I admitted to myself a long time ago that the days of seven to eight times a day had long since passed.
I dried her and myself quickly. My hands were itching to linger on her body, even though the towels separated us. But I licked my lips in anticipation for the slow finale, which was about to begin. I have read, that one of the best smells is that of a freshly bathed baby and has been powdered with simple sweet smelling Talcum powder. It was the same baby powder that I liberally applied to our bodies, before I led my beloved Connie to our king-sized bed.
Let me say first that I too love chocolate. Especially those bitter kinds. Especially those bite-size bitter chocolate chips that are used for baking. Connie sometimes had me scour the nooks and crannies of the kitchen for a mouse that steals those chocolate chips from her pantry cupboard. I do sometimes wonder if she knows that the bigger mouse, me, was the only stealing her baking chocolate.
Anyway, as she lay on the bed, with her eyes closed and arms spread out, I carefully laid the chocolate chips all over her body. On her stomach, I laid them out like a design I saw from the Aztec website.
Then whispering, “Connie, mate of Fields, you’ll now be sacrificed to the Gods. On this, my altar to the Gods, the source of the sacred xocoatl, will be devoured…”
I proceeded to “devour” the bitter chocolate chips, planting kisses on her smooth body as I went along, from her neck, to her breasts, and onto her flat stomach, all of which elicited suppressed laughter from her lips. Some of the chocolate chips dropped amongst the sparse curly hairs that hid the path to her Secret Garden, which eminently suited me just fine. I used my hands slightly to part her thighs, while nuzzling my nose closer for a more thorough search of the lost sacrifices. Of course what search would be complete without the use of a sensitive tool, the tongue.
Searching, so that the Gods would not be angry, I linger perhaps long enough for my own passion to rise to attention once again…
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