Ecstasy is my forte!

Love isn’t black and white. Between the light and the dark there’s shades of gray. Look closer, peer inside the murkiness, look at yourself in the stillness of the color. Really look. When you’re done dive into the gray and open your eyes. See the colors, every color imaginable and beyond, then breathe. Breathe it all in until the colors consume you.
To die and feel as if you’ve never been more alive sounds like a paradox and yet that is how she makes me feel.
Before her I was a sheep being herded by the paws of Time. I did everything I was supposed to because it was expected of me. Graduated at the top of my class in high school, again in college, obtained a Master’s. High paying job, married a beautiful wife, had two kids, a boy and a girl. Big house, family car, maxed out retirement accounts every year, contributed to kids’ college fund, family vacation at the same time every year, in the same country, in the same fucking resort. My God.
But that all changed when the company paired us, their top performing employees, to revise the entire company’s vision for the next ten years as part of an attempt at revitalization and to maintain relevancy.
She walked into my office the very same day of the announcement, crackling with life like a lightning rod.
“Hello. May I close the door?”
“Hi. Sure,” I had said, wondering what on Earth this creature could be and even more so, how it can be.
“I’m Bijou.”


“Right.” She took a seat. “Look, I’m going to be transparent with you. I don’t give a shit about this,” she said leaning close and whispering conspiringly as if sharing a secret, “but the bonus that comes with pulling this off is pretty nice, so let’s say we do our best?”

“I expect nothing less from number two.”

The small movement her body made when she laughed, taken aback, made me want to leap across the desk at her and ravish her. A mixture of interest and pleasant surprise lit her eyes. There was also confirmation? As if she read me and I met her expectations and then some.

“Number two? Fuck you, mister. I’m number one in the company.”

“Actually we’re tied, but since I started before you I’d say I’m number one.”

“Oh, is that right? That’s how you want to play?” she said teasingly. “We’ll see about that.”

When did I become this clever? So witty? Never. Or maybe that part of me was always there and it took someone like her to bring it out.
Could she understand what I wanted? The complexity of it? Could she accept it?
How could I not have wanted to experience this… such a life force? Especially when compared to Melinda who, in sharp contrast, stood on the opposite spectrum. Where Melinda was a walk on the beach on a clear, comfortable day filled with clear skies, Bijou was a gale that foretold the promise of a storm. When speaking with her, there was always an undercurrent of danger, a shark fin gliding in the water. I would later learn that Bijou could be empathetic and soothing one day, brutally honest the next, and somewhat irrational another day, but despite her tendency for overemotion I would love her for it. All of it.
Bijou also possessed an air of physicality about her that tended to make her intimidating, amplified by occasional bouts at the gym lifting weights and having a slightly above average height; whereas Melinda, who stuck almost exclusively to yoga and pilates, looked like she possessed a fragile strength as if she would break like glass if you held on to her too tightly.
Even in looks they couldn’t have been more different. Melinda was shorter with curly, chestnut hair that turned wild if not tamed by countless products whereas Bijou possessed long, straight, crow black hair. Melinda’s breasts were a heavy D cup whereas Bijou had a pair of supple B cups. In all, If Melinda was Hera, Bijou was Aphrodite. Both remarkable in their own right, but one with the advantage of otherworldly allure.
After our first meeting it was long nights at the office exchanging ideas, creating proposals, phone calls with each other going over company procedures, both new and old, early morning meet ups at cafes to make sure we were prepared for meetings. She was the perfect distraction, the perfect excuse to take me away from the drudgery outside of work. My world literally revolved around her and I embraced it. She made me feel new again.
At first it was difficult composing myself after seeing Bijou. The sheer high I felt, the intensity, was nearly impossible to come down from. Whenever I saw Melinda I saw Bijou. It was as if one image was superimposed on the other. After some time I started to adjust, but never fully. When Bijou laughed at something I said, she had a tendency to lean back and adjust her hair, legs uncrossed then crossed again, one heel dangling for a few seconds over a slender foot. The sight always made my mind go blank, as if I couldn’t quite comprehend her godlike aura. When one day Bijou suggested we meet at her place for dinner to discuss drafting a new proposal, I knew right then and there, with certainty, that she felt the same way. She was a lioness drawing her prey closer and closer to a trap. Perhaps she felt my eager willingness to follow, otherwise she wouldn’t have made such a move.
She greeted me at the door wearing loose patterned shorts that stopped halfway up her thigh, a tank top, no bra, face flushed, and with wet hair.
“Hey,” she said and went in for a hug. We always hugged, it became customary between us after spending so much time together working and talking about our outside lives, but this time it felt different, more intimate. I felt her nipples press against my chest, the warmth from her body like never before. “I just came from the shower.”

“Should I have showered?” I asked wryly, stepping into her apartment, giving her the bottle of wine I brought with me.

“I don’t know, should you have?”

Her apartment was small, furnished lightly. Directly next to the entrance was the kitchen. She set the wine down on the kitchen table and looked at me expectantly. I didn’t know what to say besides the truth.

“I showered already.”

“Good,” she said simply, not before giving me a look that lingered a second too long. “I hope you like what I cooked,” she told me from the kitchen.

“What did you make?” I followed her and sat myself at the kitchen table, watching her ass shake slightly as she stirred whatever it was that was in the pot. When she was done she turned off the stove and walked over to the kitchen table, sitting next to me.

“Okonomiyaki with miso soup on the side.”

“Well it smells good. And I’ve had miso soup plenty of times before with you.”
“Yes, but not Okonomiyaki.”

“I’m sure I’ll like it.”

“I hope so.”
I could tell she was nervous. It was not like her to be uncertain. Bijou placed her elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand, looking at me. I looked straight back at her, playing her game, taking in her beauty. Bijou’s skin was so clear she looked like she was wearing makeup when she wasn’t wearing any. 

A silence passed between us as we played a game of chicken. She smiled when she had enough.

“Well, you’re acting weird right now.”

“Me?” I asked, chuckling. “You’re one to talk.”

“Yes, you,” she said, ignoring what I said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just getting used to my surroundings.”

She nodded. Then she said quietly, “This is the first time we’re alone like this.” I nodded slowly, not taking my eyes away from her. There was a soft light in the kitchen that cast a shadow over Bijou’s face. It made her dark eyes appear darker. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No. Trust me, I’m not.”

“Do you want to leave? We can have dinner someplace else.”
“Of course I don’t want to leave. Thank you for having me here.”

She let out a deep sigh and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what was happening.
“What?” I asked. You don’t believe me?”

“I do, it’s just . . . what are we doing here?”
“You know what we are doing here.

“Is it right?”

“It feels right.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The gap between her seat and mine might as well had been light years apart. I bridged the space by reaching over to her and taking her hand in mine. I pulled on it gently, signaling her to come over to me. She did and I stood to meet her.
“It feels right, but I’m scared, Dustin,” she said, looking up at me with a pained expression on her face. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Neither have I, but I know I want to do this with you. I know you’ll protect me and I’ll protect you. We have our other lives, but when we’re together it’s just us. It’ll always be just us.”

Bijou’s lips quivered and she wiped the tears from her eyes. I took her head into my chest and hugged her tightly. I knew I would love this woman forever. After a few moments she looked up at me, shrugged, and smiled. “I guess there’s nothing else to say,” she said.

“I guess not,” I told her, for the first time able to look at her the way I’d always wanted to look at her.

She tippy-toed to kiss me, our lips finally aligning themselves together. My mind went blank as my heart, mixed with raw desire, took over. We started kissing gently at first, but more and more intense. I leaned into her hard, pressing her on top of the kitchen table. I grabbed the back of her head and hungrily kissed her. She started to moan, flicking her tongue back and forth in my mouth, her tongue tasting like mint.
Overwhelmed with want, I didn’t have the patience to take all of her clothes off. I leaned down and took one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking them through the fabric while my other hand tugged on her other nipple. She cried out, “Yes!” while she leaned back, so I could get a better angle. I steered to the right, kissing her sternum, then down to her stomach, then her navel as I lowered myself to my knees. She pulled her shorts down and placed one leg on my shoulders while keeping the other one at a ninety degree angle for easy access. My God, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

She tasted like Bijou. A transparent creaminess that tasted both salty and sweet with a hint of something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on that seemed unique to her. I devoured until she shivered uncontrollably in my mouth, crying out so loud I’m sure the neighbors heard.

She pulled me up and forced me to lean into her, but instead of kissing me she licked herself off my face with complete abandon. Emboldened, I unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants and undershorts. Seeing this, Bijou wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me toward her. With a hand she guided me inside and together we became one.

It felt as if I melted into her. If you had asked me who I was during that time I wouldn’t have been able to answer. I was Bijou and Bijou was me. I pumped long, hard strokes into her while her hips moved perfectly in tandem with mine. She pulled me in close as I began to near my end and just as I was about to get there I pulled out and she jerked me until my passion dripped copiously onto her hand.

“Goodness,” she said, panting heavily.

“Wow,” I said, breathless, my heart pounding.

She rubbed my cock, slick with her wetness and mine. “You’re still hard!” she said, incredulous, giggling with delight.

Just looking at her, taking her all in, drove me wild. Her wet hair fell heavily behind her, strands of it stuck on her forehead and neck, and her nipples stood out rigidly against the fabric of her shirt. She still had her legs wide open, her bushy landing strip leading down to her glistening lips. Fuck, I had to have her again, it felt as if I couldn’t help myself.

I kicked my pants off completely and grabbed each of her ankles. I stepped forward and leaned over to join with her once again. Together, we groaned in ecstasy.

In the afterlife, if there is one, I’d imagine I’d be judged for my actions. God would place the weight of my sins on a scale and would say to me, “Dustin. Do you believe your sins to be lighter or heavier than the feather of Heaven I shall place on this scale?”

I will bask in his warmth at heaven’s gate and think on my love for Bijou. I would say, “Lighter.”

I will say this with confidence, but with a resigned acceptance if the results proved otherwise. I had always done my best to protect those I loved and cared for and prevented anyone from being hurt. What was done was done never in malice. If given the choice, I would do everything all over again from the moment I said hello when she walked through my door to the last time we said goodbye because only death could pull us apart.


Don’t worry your escapades are safe with us.









Ecstasy is my forte!

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