Home at Last

They had been planning the relocation for a while now.
The urgency to be together was apparent, but there was so much to do before it could be actualized. They had agreed to move in together. She would move her work to his town.
She, however, felt like the library she had started so painstakingly, needed to keep running. She would not wind it up, she would find someone to keep doing what she was doing and start something similar on the other side.
What delayed their being together was finding someone passionate enough to take over the management of the library. This was her baby; she needed to hand it over to a person with the drive to keep its doors open, the children always finding safe anchor to weigh down and read a book.
She watched the last lot of children leave the library as she started to put back the books in their rightful places. It was while collecting books on a table near a window, that she looked outside…and the nostalgia hit her hard; leaving this place for a longing to be with her man meshed itself into a bitter sweetness, a sweet bitterness.
And she smiled, as she remembered their sweet collision.
It had been magic.
He was magic. Meeting him was unreal, surreal. How could this profoundly beautiful man be walking around unnoticed, untaken? The earth must have shifted, and with it every woman’s senses. They were all bonkers, allowing this travesty to take shape.
She would redeem womanhood. Put this man on the platform he needed for elevation. She was that platform.
The meeting had been as accidental as it was unexpected. She had wanted to quit the dating site for a long time, visiting it less and less for shorter and shorter periods, every time promising herself she’d delete her account.
Then, one Friday evening. She was about to doze off and unconsciously, just before she turned off her phone, clicked on the dating site app. As usual, she perfunctorily swiped left at most of the men. She wanted someone within reachable distance. She did not believe in long distance love.
And there he was looking back at her in all his coffee black glory. His penetrating gaze seemed to see right through her and seemed to dare her to swipe left.
She clicked on his profile. The perfect age. Looking for something long-term. Swipe right…send very nonchalant hello. Mustn’t seem too eager.
After about a day, they had exchanged phone numbers; numerous phone calls followed. It was evident that there was a connection between them. With every call brewed a heightened sense of urgency to meet, and so a quick first date was arranged.
They were about two hours apart, yet despite her usual standards, that didn’t seem in the least bit a challenge. The excitement that had sparked could not be contained, culminating in their meeting. The aura about them was enchanting — she was in a bubble, swimming away to ecstasy.
They had lunch, a mundane task compared to the exhilaration that was their conversation.
It was one year and some months since they had met. She could not believe that she was leaving to go and live with him on a farm. She had spent a few weekends there and loved it. She knew it was a place, together, they could call home.
She had almost moved everything she needed to take with her. On the day she moved, all she took with her were her clothes and a few books. She knew how tiring moves could be and she had made sure to avoid that.
She went by the library and was happy to see that things were going okay even in her absence. The young man she had found was already doing a splendid job and the heaviness she felt was somewhat lifting.
She arrived slightly after noon and set her luggage in the extra room. She would sort it out later. He had spread enough on the dining table for five very hungry people.
“My goodness, shall we ever finish this food?” she mused knowingly.
“Oh yes, I shall make sure our appetites match the food.” He chuckled and winked at her.
She needed a shower. The day’s accumulated grime suddenly felt too sticky to bear now that she was well-fed and relaxed. She thought about this new leaf she was turning in her life as the cold water hit her. She was excited, and knew he was too. She lathered her body with his masculine body wash; she needed to go shopping for her essentials.
“May I join you?” he asked with the bathroom door slightly open. Her smile and nipples, cheerily standing from the cool shower’s mechanical and thermal embrace, drew him in as one entranced. He dropped his clothes at the door and went and stood under the water with her. He smiled at her as he reached for the wash cloth she held. He turned off the water; washed her back; up her neck; below her arms… then took the cloth to her buttocks and thighs.
She turned around to face him and took it from him with a playful look in her eyes. She turned on the water to rinse it, lathered it with more soap and began to scrub him. His body seemed lean in clothes but when he undressed his muscled arms and legs were very prominent. She enjoyed passing the soapy cloth over his body as her inner thighs began to tick with desire. She was at his stomach now; very gradually, she took her hand lower and felt his erect member fill her hand.
He turned on the water and they rinsed themselves. He wrapped the towel around her and followed her into the bedroom. They dried each other off. She broke away from him to find her backpack, in which she had packed clothes for a few days. Pulled out a dress, underwear.
He reached out to her and took the dress away from her, his eyes on hers all the time. She could read that he wanted her. He wrapped himself around her and whispered that she would dress later. He said he needed to properly welcome her to her new home. Her chuckle was met by his warm lips. He teased her tongue with his and she gave in, sucking her in that way he knew heightened her desire even more.
He held her hand. Led her to the living room; she knew what he was thinking. He lifted her, lay her down on the seat. He had told her for eons just how much he had fantasized about making love to her there.
And so he met her lips with his as he lowered himself onto her. His hand was on her tummy, he caressed her navel. The hand now ascending to her right breast. Her nipple responded wildly to his touch and he quickly put his lips on it.
His hand went to the hairy tangle below her stomach, his thumb in the depth of the hair patch. She lifted her buttocks in desire, her clit erect, his thumb accosted by the wetness of her readiness.
She flipped him on his back so fast he was surprised she had that kind of strength. She sat on him, her feet astride. She wanted to ride him. It was her fantasy to do so, and particularly to ride him on the sofa. He was ready for her, she could feel it. She lifted herself up and let him enter her.
“Oh god!” she gasped softly as his cut tip parted her fleshy lips and stretched her inner pink flesh.
She set her legs on the seat cushion to lean back and get leverage on her strokes. He was dazed with all the desire he felt for her, and in his eyes she could see it. So she drove him insane, riding him slowly, finding her rhythm.
She knew she didn’t have a lot of time, and neither did he.
They were both so charged by now. She increased her speed and lifted herself faster. She rode him like a steed in need of a win on the racecourse. And she was winning. She felt herself approaching the finishing line, felt him raring to go by her side. Reaching the rope together would be beautiful. His thighs held her, strong. He was just about getting there. He lifted his hands and held her shoulders.
And she ruptured as he went into a fit of release. They met, a year ago and some months, as they finished. She fell on top of him. Sated.
Happy.
Home at last.

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