Tlll marriage that is. I was having a lot of trouble inserting even one finger, but kept at it. After the brutal tit pulling, aarti had learnt to stay quiet I guess. Her protests were less vocal, as I pushed one finger deep enough for my knuckle to hit her crack. I pulled out, eliciting a scream and a sigh. Soon though, two fingers began the same journey,and this time she actually began to scream. The journey took surprisingly less time, and I soon had a third finger going in. when a fourth also succeded inspite of aarti’s now hoarse screams, I decided to go in for the real deal. Taking the fingers out, I began to place my cock at the entrance.Aarti realized what was happening, but resigned herself to her ass rape. The ass, for all my work, was still quite tight, as I remarked struggling to accommodate my dick. “ Gopal, what are you doing ? I’m being….aahhhh….ripped apart. How can you do this to me ? I love yo…..ah…….” part of me again wanted to apologize and stop, the other part was. ’ And he closes his eyes. The bind that ties us brings us together even while we deny that it’s there. Static electricity, circumstance. Again, loneliness. But not that. Then I feel his touch once again and I lose myself, drowning in his soul, always just beneath the surface, giving over all that I can, breaking my heart again, all just to feel his magic, his heart, one more time. I dream of his possession, the freedom of belonging to this person. And I whisper to him, ‘You are all that I am not, all that I was lacking.’ And he smiles. Because what I lack, he contains. Where I am weak, he is not. A power for a weakness, a give for a take. In his eyes, I see the truth. I know that there is doom and pain ahead, and still I inch my body toward his, aching for that poison. Aligning myself with him, tipping my head to look into his eyes, indeed his very soul, laying my hand on his chest, I know I’ve found home. I haven’t the right. I want to step back, to leave this man, this poet, for.
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