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In My End Is My Beginning

In the days of my hedonistic youth
I set my sails to cross the wine dark seas
To find the lands of the lotus eaters,
There to sate my sybaritic desires
On the luscious fruits just waiting for me
To pluck and gorge in a carnal orgy
Of untrammelled depravity and lust,
Living only for each new sweet climax.

For a decade or more I spent my life
In search of yielding luscious bodies
To conquer and possess for my pleasure,
Plundering the sweet pulsating treasure
Of whoever would succumb to my charms,
Taking equal delight in despoiling
The nubile flesh of innocent virgins
Or compliant voluptuous matrons.

I have plunged headlong into drug enhanced
Orgiastic revels in sacred groves
On many jewelled Aegean islands,
Floating on waves of naked dancing girls;
And fucked with wild abandon to the throb
Of jungle drums in Haitian taverns,
Drowning in the heady fervid darkness
On the profane altar of writhing limbs.

With the passing years my jaded senses
Grew bored with simple pleasures of the flesh,
Needing ever more arcane amusements
To excite my libidinous palate
And rouse me to the pinnacle of lust,
Tumescence and release only achieved
By resorting to the stimulation
Of a tincture of coca leaf in rum.

Somehow I washed up in London’s East End
Living alone in a seedy doss house,
Just one more wreck among the detritus
Without hope, a shadow of that bold youth
Who had set out in search of higher truth
In a life of libidinous excess.
I was near to death when she redeemed me,
An angel of mercy sent by heaven.

She was one of that new breed of women,
Well educated and with a mission
To seek out those who were lost and broken,
And restore them to full humanity.
I cannot comprehend why she chose me,
Or what she could see amidst the wreckage,
But slowly she nursed me back to full health,
Without trace of sentiment or judgement.

Over the months that followed my rescue
She revealed to me a more profound truth,
That life is more than sensuality,
And real fulfilment an elusive goal
When carnal pleasure is divorced from love.
Mutual love developed between us
Until we reached a point of convergence
When marriage became the logical choice.

We refrained from sexual union
Before the knot was immutably sealed,
But conjugal vows made, to my delight,
In the privacy of our marriage bed
She revealed a nature as passionate
And gloriously unrestrained as mine,
And in our thirty five years together
We mounted unimagined peaks of joy.

Somehow it seemed, as I awoke that dawn,
The first morning following our nuptials
That in less than the blinking of an eye,
From the small death of sleep I had entered
Into a rich vision of paradise,
More full of lushly sensual delights
Than anything that I had ever known
In the passing years of my former life.

Even before the shrouds of slumber cleared
Blissful memories of a night of love
Diffused their warm radiance through my mind,
Another night of mutual rapture
As my lover led me on a journey
To the high summits of deepest pleasure
The harmonious fusion of our flesh
The beginning of years of perfect joy.

Since that day she has been the only one
With whom I have shared the many delights
Of sexual pleasure, but more than that,
My goddess has been for me all women,
A courtesan one day, skilled in the arts
Of lighting a bonfire of ecstasy
In my burning loins, a bright flame so fierce
It consumed my flesh in torrents of bliss.

At other times she was like a mother
Tenderly caring for my wounded soul.
Sometimes she would subordinate her will
To my urgent desires, a sacrifice
On the altar of lust, while at others
She would become the leader and master
Of my soul, my body the instrument
To carry her aloft on waves of joy.

My happiness was cruelly punctured
On a baleful autumn day late last year
When fate stole her life to leave me bereft,
Another victim of the Spanish flu.
But when I woke on this my natal day,
The seventieth since the light first dawned
On the mewling babe who became the man,
I was blessed by a miracle of love.

I was roused from the arms of Morpheus
By a thousand exquisite sensations
Running like bright tendrils of liquid flame
Through the flesh of my naked torso,
From the centre of my drowsy manhood
To envelope me with lustful stirrings
And the promise of ecstasy to come,
Her special present from beyond the grave.

The source of this wondrous awakening
Soon revealed itself as the delicate
Meanderings of sensitive fingers
Tracing a dance of intense excitement
Electric with erotic potential,
Along the soft length of my inner thighs
To cradle the tender flesh at their crux
With the expert touch of sweet arousal.

Pausing awhile to tenderly fondle
The soft root of climactic energy
That lay nestled between my parted thighs,
The ghostly fingers traced their teasing path
Along the blade of my burgeoning sword
To circle the crown in a band of fire,
Enticing the first steps of that journey
Whose goal was pleasure incomparable.

Then a husky voice whispered in my ear
Thick with desire and the promise of bliss,
The seductive voice of the courtesan
Filling my mind with visions of rapture.
And a hot tongue snaked lasciviously
And licked slowly down the line of my jaw
Before penetrating my open mouth
In a kiss of naked passion and lust.

The lips to which the sexy voice belonged
Then made their way down my writhing body
Towards their goal, decorating my flesh
With innumerable tiny kisses,
Building a delicious nervous tension
In every limb and sinew of my flesh
And carrying me closer to the heights
The heaven of exquisite sensation.

Soon fingers were replaced with tender lips
Enveloping me in their warm embrace,
Sliding slowly down my throbbing manhood
Until the entire length of my glory
Was engulfed in the wet darkness of lust,
Increasing my level of arousal
Closer to the threshold of intense bliss
In the heaven of sexual delight.

Then with a subtle change of position
The warmth of velvet thighs against my head
Enfolded me in a their soft embrace,
And my olfactory senses were teased
By the musky perfume of arousal,
The delicious pungent female nectar
Oozing from between the swollen petals
Of her dark erogenous centre.

With otherworldly virtuosity
My luscious ethereal visitor
Summoned intoxicating harmonies
To cascade through every vibrating nerve
Of my rapturously naked body,
Using every transcendent artifice
Of her succulent lips and probing tongue
On the throbbing flesh of my rampant shaft.

Transported now beyond this mortal realm
Into a paradise of intense delight,
My entire existence concentrated
On a single point of pure sensation
Rising inexorably from my loins
In waves of exhilarating pleasure,
Each growing surge carrying me closer
To the edge of orgasmic ecstasy.

Time had ceased to have meaning or substance
As I hovered on the crest of release
Enveloped in the smouldering embrace
Of wrippling folds of voluptuousness
Within which I waited to be reborn
Into a blissful region beyond thought,
Redeemed from the pain of expectation 
In an eruption of ultimate joy.

My succubus thrust me over the brink
And a fountain of glistening silver
Surged heavenwards from my pulsating core
In torrents of inexpressible bliss
To shatter in crystal shards of rapture
On the clouds of eternal ecstasy,
As I entered the realm of redemption
And endless peace in the sweetness of death.

 

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than storiesspace.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2020 by Keith Paver

All rights reserved, including all copyrights and all other intellectual property rights in the contents hereof.

The compositions and contents herein are not to be copied, reproduced, printed, published, posted, displayed, incorporated, stored in or scanned into a retrieval system or database, transmitted, broadcast, bartered or sold, in whole or in part without the prior express written permission of the sole author. Unauthorized duplication is strictly prohibited and is an infringement of National and International Copyright laws.

All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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