Liberation: A Salt and Honey Tale

The curtains were shuttered tight in the bedroom, casting a darkness that hid the detritus of everyday life. Most of it was Salt’s mess, he realized. Everything was a mess these days, and today’s shift was only passing by because he had the knowledge that seeing her, even for a few minutes, would subdue him and his demonic anxiety. At the threshold of the bedroom, Salt paused to take in the scene. The battery-powered tealight flickered in the crystalline votive. The scent of sage burned hours before still hung heavy in the air. And there, illuminated by the candlelight, were her hills and valleys. His Goddess.

The nightshirt she wore was partially unbuttoned, exposing a line of caramel skin that ran from the hollow between her collarbones to her navel. He eyed the curve of her breasts visible beneath an arm draped diagonally across her body. Every nook of her body was a sanctuary for him to hide in. To hide from reality, no matter how temporary.

My Goddess.

Underfoot, a candy wrapped crackled as he went to take a step, and his goddess groaned in her sleep. What a light sleeper she was. And for a fleeting moment, he wondered if she had sensed his presence long ago; if she knew how much his body was aching for her touch. Again, he stepped, inching closer and closer to the bed of black satin sheets and charcoal gray blankets. The only worthy pedestal for a dozing muse.

It hadn’t been long since this woman—this deity—had stumbled into his life. Yet, from the moment he had laid eyes upon her, the radiance had blinded him. Left him entranced. Devoted. The sight of such of her in the ramshackle apartment sometimes made him pinch himself. The horrible pick-up line “when you fell from Heaven, did it hurt?” crossed his mind, and he attempted to smother the chuckle that escaped him. Though it had been but a breathy release, the noise was enough for her eyes, like pools of honey, found him.

She didn’t seem shocked, but she didn’t say anything either.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “if I woke you.”

The voice of the Goddess known as Honey was rough from sleep, but there was a thrill in her words as she said, “You didn’t, lover.”

Independent of his will, a hand reached out to caress the curve of her thigh. He leaned close to bring that hand to her cheek before cupping her neck to feel the warmth of her skin. The throb of her pulse. His other hand started to twine into her hair, bringing her face closer to his. The smell of her skin made him dizzy.

“I couldn’t wait to worship you again,” he whispered against those rose petal lips.

For a moment, she resisted him long enough to ask, “Is this your lunch break?”

“Yeah.”

“And your hungry for something other than a sandwich, I take it?”

He didn’t have time to answer, because she gave him a zealous kiss, one that stole his breath from his lungs. Made him forget where he was or why his existence mattered.

“Mmm” was the only vocalization she’d be getting after a kiss like that.

His name was pointless, so he didn’t ask her to say it as he kissed her again, hands running through her silky hair. There was only the desire to worship her and everything she stood for. Grabbing the woman by her shoulders, he pushed her down against the nest of pillows. Hunger was indeed surging through him, but it wasn’t one of emptiness. It was a need to bury every atom of himself inside her. To diffuse his essence into her body. Dragging fingers over her nipples then stomach, he reached that sweet place between her thighs, heard her tiny moan of surprise, then laughed. Teasing her, he brought that hand back up her body, towards the column of her throat.

Heat rose from her body. Desire shimmered in her eyes.

“I’m only myself when I’m with you,” Salt confessed as he came forward to kiss her again.

The Goddess arched into him in response. The world condensed into that single moment, until everything but the intersection of their tongues was an afterthought. Underneath him, she danced, her hips moving in want. Sliding down her, he unbuttoned her shirt then licked at both nipples, getting them to rise to attention, then went lower. And lower. The pace at which he moved made Honey sigh and tremble.

Then they locked eyes for just a moment. “May I take a sip of you?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

His looked at that most sacred part of her—then drank in deep.

A beautiful sound was emitted from her throat. So, she had been yearning for him, too. She needed him as much as he needed her.

The taste of her was like sunshine. Like honey melting into green tea. Like cinnamon and butter. His stomach grumbled, his heart raced, and his hands quested for purchase among the planes of her torso. Lapping at her put him into a trance. This was the beginning of the ritual. This was where he paid homage to her, showed how much her pleasure mattered to him. A shudder in her thighs matched the wavering of her breath, and that sound was enough to drive him mad.

Drawing back for a moment to take in the imagine of a goddess entwined in his arms and sheets, he said playfully, “Tell me what you want, Honey.”

“Just you, my love.”

Just you.

Simple, but he could interpret that one million ways. It was more than permission to do what he thirsted for.

Just you.

Those two words were what he lusted for: to love and be loved.

She ran her free hand up his tense arm. She beckoned him closer to her, so those fingers could work their magic.

This was the second part of the ritual. The invitation. Every time those fingertips touched him, he was electrified. She knew it, too. With that hand, she tantalized him by tracing the muscles of his chest, his toned abdomen, bellybutton, and finally, his hard shaft. The instant she caressed him there, he quivered and sharply sucked in a breath. Cracking open an eye, the Knight saw the excitement limning the features of his Goddess in the pale light. Her pupils were wide, and that cat-like grin was nothing but trouble. In the manacle of her hand, his member twitched, eager to be buried inside her.

“You know I want you, my love. But how much do you want me?” Her voice was a seductive purr.

Ensorcelled by that soft sound, he could barely do more than whimper. That wasn’t the answer she wanted, so she gave a squeeze and asked again.

“It’s not want,” he huffed. His entire body was on fire. “It’s need. I need this. I need you.” All of you.

That appeased her—his capricious Goddess. Her hand slacked, and she started to position herself for comfort; but he wasn’t in the mood for waiting. He moved quickly, spinning her around, and went for the flower between Honey’s legs. The wetness, the readiness, shocked him as he slipped inside. The first thrust was enough to shatter her will. Her head tipped back as she moaned loudly. For a moment, he relished the feeling.

The joining was the highlight of the ritual, bringing him to the point where the worship edged closer towards Nirvana. Together, there was nothing around them. The world fell away, and all that mattered was the rhythm of every stroke he took. The divine picture before him sent fire through his veins, making him hotter. Hungrier. Her eyelids fluttered, her breasts bounced, and her fingers tightened on the blankets.

The pleasure went from a slow burn to a raging flame. The instant it peaked, Salt couldn’t prevent it from shattering him. He took one last deep thrust into his muse as his release poured into her, returning the vitality that he had sipped so ravenously. With a ragged breath, he looked into the pacified face of his goddess. Honey’s hands came to either side of his neck, pulling him closer, even with him still in that sweet spot between her legs, and she kissed him deeply, her tongue tracing the shape of his lips.

She was the Source of all that exhilarated him. And he was the Thirst, never fully quenched.

Between her legs, he felt himself grow hard once again. She nipped at his lower lip then drew her mouth away from his, but only far enough that she could speak.

She said, “You’re break is almost over.”

“I’m trying to get fired anyway.”

“Then worship me for just a little longer,” said the woman. To emphasize that, she licked the column of his throat as her fingernails ran up his back.

Salt gave a clipped laugh, for the sensation of growing hotter and more demanding while inside her was just too much. And so the ritual continued on.

If only he could be with Honey like this without limitation, forever.

(Disclaimer: LIBERATION: Chapter One: Nightshift was originally published on Medium.com by Honey T. Subtle differences are applied to each version.)