The Gift That Keeps Giving

Ever notice how beautiful the world seems to be this time of year? I have. The lights strung all about, the decorative wreathes on doors, the white fluffy snow covering the earth’s floor and the overabundance of goodwill? It’s absolutely magical. Looking out the balcony window of my downtown loft, this year seems to be no different.

I walk down the hall to my awaiting bubble bath taking a glance at the prints on my wall. I’ve just finished my new show debuting my collection of works titled “Beyond the Moments of Time”. I’m a photographer by trade and capturing the beauty of the world is a passion of mine. I slip into the bubble bath hardly being able to contain myself. I wanted to get my favorite toy "Vicky" out and let my imagination run wild; I resisted. Jacob is on the way. Who is Jacob, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you. Jacob is a fellow artist, photographer if you will. We met 10 years ago at a show of his. I would never tell him, but his caramel skin, jet black hair, beard with a touch of gray, and deep as the ocean voice, reminds me of an African god. There has always been a magnetic energy with us. It’s been a love/hate thing. Mostly hate, some love. We do run in the same circles trying desperately to one up one another. One Christmas Eve night 7 years ago after a review of mine, he invited me to his hotel suite (he never stayed in one place too long) to discuss a collaboration. He promised no funny stuff unless I begged. I assured him that would never happen. A true gentleman to his word, he didn’t take me to bed until I asked… in the naughtiest of ways possible. Starting that night, we spent two weeks together; from Christmas Eve until New Years Day where we part ways and go about life as we normally would. No significant other, family or friend has ever stood in the way of this. We may not spend our days together, but we certainly spend our nights.

I get out the bath and begin to dry off. I’m brushing my coily hair when the doorbell rings. Could it be him already? It’s only 5 and we plan to meet up for dinner around 8. I walk down the stairs to check the doorbell camera. It is Jacob, holding a bouquet of purple Azaleas. He never forgets. It’s my favorite flower on the account, it’s my name. I buzzed him up wondering if I got the time wrong. I hold the door open, while I hold my robe closed. He smiles, handing me the flowers and kissing my cheek. I could tell it was different. I asked had I gotten the time wrong because I could be ready in minutes. He assured me I didn’t, and he just couldn’t wait to see me. He sits on the couch and watches me put the flowers in the gold vase I bought specifically for his yearly flowers. We agreed we didn’t want to be in a relationship. Our freedom was paramount. But for two weeks this man was mine and I was his. I would let my mind wonder what it would be like to have a commitment. We had the best talks, shared similar interests and the sex was always amazing. But at the end of the two weeks, he never stayed, and I never asked him too.

I looked at him out the corner of my eye and caught him biting his lip. My robe had slipped open a bit and I was indeed naked underneath. He stood to take off his coat and motioned for me to join him. I complied, walking over to him slowly. I hadn’t adjusted my belt. Jacob tactfully opened my robe to expose my breast fully to him. He always said they were the perfect size for his hands and mouth. He pulled me down to him, sat me on his lap and kissed my neck. I asked what about dinner, he says he’ll call the owner and have it delivered. I melted; I didn’t mind that at all. With my robe now around my waist, I started helping him out of his things. It had been a year since his hands have been on my body. And this year, except for my vibrator, no one has made me cum. I see Jacob throughout the year at shows but its more of a hi/bye situation. We never get more detailed than that. I don’t know why but it is kind of an unspoken rule of ours. What we have is just between us. Only the curator of our favorite museum knew and that’s because she’s a friend and well… she caught us. He wasn’t a chiseled man but he’s perfect. Chest exposed, his gift unleashed, I straddled myself on top. Even with starting slowly I couldn’t contain myself. I came all over him. He joined me… He’d never came inside me before, and instead of us stopping it sent us into a frenzy. He threw me down on my furry ocean blue rug in front of my fireplace.

The dark exposed brick, the smell of cedar and his cologne put me into a trance. This man is not fucking me… He’s making love to me and surprisingly, I’m not mad at it. Jacob is giving himself to me, something we both agreed would be dangerous to do. Why love someone you can’t see a future with? Despite this, I dive into the madness with him. As I wrap my legs around his neck, he’s enjoying my juices. I’m cumming over and over onto his face. When he’s had enough, he spreads my legs and enters my gate. With every thrust Jacob tells me he wants me; he even tells me he can’t be without me. I know it’s different, but I don’t care. I just don’t care. I was enjoying myself too much. He whispers, “I love you Azalea, I love you” and folds. I shed a tear because I loved him too… We were in trouble…