Synaptic Copulation

.. with eyes wide open

Drawing me to him, cradling his hands along my face, the dip of his thumbs catching beneath my eyes so that they were peeled back, splayed open, lifted up, looking at him. The invisible bridle melted away with the touch of his mouth, the nibble of his teeth biting at the fasteners of the bit, relighting and igniting all of the unrequited passions that were reserved for him alone. Hunger rising in me, thirsts within him pleading silently to be sated, so painful for us both that it clutched at my stomach and spread my ribs taking my breath. Desires from plains far beyond the body or psyche unbound, the wants, needs, longings given freedom to soar. So much trust and faith offered in a single moment, so much raw vulnerability exposed. Would I return to him as I was now? Would he be there when my flight banked and brought me back? I found sanity only in focusing on the slow inhale and even slower exhale against my cheek. The feel of his hair against my temple offering the throb of his own pulse masked the sound of the cylinders when they released and the bit of steel fell to his waiting hand.

I am not most women and he is by no means just any man. I reached out to touch him in the only way I knew that I could reach him. My first words in freedom came in the purest of confession .. I dream of You. What he said blazed my world with so many confused, elated, chaotic emotions I could not keep up with them all. Your dreams have always been powerful. He had seen them. He knew them. I gave up the instantaneous scramble for something illusive there as he began to braid my hair. It wasn't the twining from my own fingertips this time but his that wove them to a tamed sleek coil. I've always loved the feel of his touch in my hair, it had always been a calming .. so peaceful that it felt in ways warmer than an embrace. When we are alone, it is so easy to talk with him. What fails me around others dances like the flutter of a butterfly when it is just the two of us. My want to bring him honor, pride, keeps me held in silence but in moments like this there is nothing that I feel I cannot talk to him about. Here where he is my soul focus without intrusion, without disturbance, where we can meet in whatever realm is ... his at the moment. My mentioning the beast in the solitary pen gave me chance to tell him that Gilgamesh had shown me what happened. Yes, I knew why he had commanded the animal's reprieve. His unquestioning acceptance of what I had told him washed through me, cleansing the taint of doubts and reservations.

It must be far easier to create a slave than to mold and build a freewoman and facts proved that the crafting of a slave must come from something already there in the grain. Details. The details of what was needed came flooding in. Shelter, bosk, necessities, clothing .. wasn't it an Olympian that asked how much does it take to care for one little girl? These were to be his gift ... just that. My basic needs would be met though the rest would bear on my shoulders. I would have to carve my right to be here just as everyone else does, to learn the clan, to show that I could contribute to the Tribe, to earn my place ... here.

The firm guidance of his hand along my arm radiated warmth and a sense of security so tangible that as he found the storage wagon he was looking for and released me, the savor would remain long after. He knew the delicate feminine curves of my body but this transformation that was taking place now added an acute sense of modesty. I was definitely not dressed for a formal. He felt pliable in my hands as I moved him from within the wagon back out to the platform so that I could dress. It was a mingling of both amusement and discomfort for both of us. There would be times I would need to come to him for guidance, to rant and to rave in the newfoundness of all of this and I offered an open flap for him to be able to do the same. I had been watching and noticing as well and wanted to encourage this ability that was forming in him to be part of what was around him rather than attend from the distances he felt more comfortable in.

Did we both blink with realization in the aftermath? It seemed so as he looked at the woman standing before him and had to ask ...

What do I call you?