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Rated: GC · Short Story · Erotica · #1669523
A contrite man atones for his misdeeds.
I couldn’t sleep that night, the events of the evening weighing heavily upon my conscience. It should have been the happiest day of my life and my head still reeled with the impact of the powerful orgasm that had rocked my body as I spilled my seed into my darling Vina, the sweet black girl whose angelic smile and small form had captivated my heart for long.

My eyes would look for every opportunity to devour her lush curves and deep cleavage. I would writhe in bed at nights, undressing her in my mind and imagining the smoothness of her hips. I fantasized about kissing her full lips and tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Most of all, I dreamed of the delicious sensations I would experience when my hardness would be embedded within the unyielding softness of her sweet vagina. All my wishes had been fulfilled that evening, but the esctasy quickly transformed into grief as guilt and remorse overwhelmed.

I believed that once I partook of the abundant offerings of her femininity, my mind would be liberated of its insanity. How wrong I was! The nectar of her slit lingered on my mouth and the pulsations of her quivering flesh continued to torment my manhood, long after we disentangled. If matters would have rested there, I would have still reconciled. These were after all mundane physical needs which could be easily quenched. The ardor of her parting kiss left me in no doubt that she was easily pliable to my advances. What tormented me were simpler things; her smile, her scent, her sighs, her taste, her touches all of which tickled my heart. It was a malaise for which there was no cure.

I desired to cling to her for life, confess to her my deepest secrets and beg for her forgiveness. True, that the pleasure I had received from her lithe body, testified her wilful submission to my needs. She was after all an adult with a mind of her own, but I shuddered to think of the consequences if she would have resisted my advances. Tears of regret cascaded down my cheeks as I recalled the animal that had gripped my mind and for the first time in many days I was clear about what I needed to do.

I put my plan to action, first by writing home that I would travel into the interiors where my phone would not work. I granted both my driver and maid indefinite leave. Feigning illness, I stopped going to office and switched off my phone. My atonement had begun.

I stared at the stranger in the mirror, the gaunt remnants of a man who once prided himself on his fidelity, scrupulousness and respect for women. All that now seemed like a façade of falsehood. How else could he succumb so easily to the pangs of desire?

“You love her,” a voice spoke from my inside.

Would have believed you if I wouldn’t have…, I argued.

“You didn’t force her."

I would have.

“What should you have done?”

Been her silent admirer.

“What will you do now?” the voice sighed.

Always be united with her in spirit, but not in body. Feel her at all times in my mind, but never set eyes upon her again, I said firmly.

"Though you she know she is yours to love and enjoy."

"Yes. That is the punishment I deserve."

The voice faded away.

Slumping upon my favorite rocking chair, I meditated upon the charm of her face and the softness of her lips, the luster of her hair and the warmth of her skin, the fullness of her breasts and the roundness of her hips, the dazzle of her smile and the innocence of her eyes, the sweetness of her kiss and the heat of her womanhood. My body pined for her and my arousal formed a painful tent in my trousers. The intense unquenched want tormented my body like a sore. The pain showered my penitent soul with relief.

I forsook both food and water as tortuous minutes became painful hours which eventually transformed into endless days. With my darling's image in my eyes, the flavor of her delicious spends on my mouth and the scent of her heat on my nose, I meditated upon her, my Goddess, my Vina. My lips formed an O as I mentally kissed between her thighs, remembering the divine taste when my tongue had delved into her dripping womanhood and had lapped the essence of her core.

Hunger and thirst finally took their toll on my body unaccustomed as it was to such harshness. My head spun with vertigo, my breath slowed, my heart throbbed, but only feebly. A tentative knock stirred the stupor in my mind. I reached the door with unsteady steps and opened it. I struggled to hold back my tears at the sight of the black angel who stood there. The compassion and concern in her eyes were my last memories before I swooned into her outstretched arms.


Word Count: 840
© Copyright 2010 Prof Moriarty tries to return (profmoriarty at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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