Offering

For months, the most beautiful long rippled dark locks of hair Claudia had ever seen were sitting right next to her in Calculus class. Their master gave off a distinct odor. He permeated a bend of fire and earth and man. His jeans were way too tight, cutting into him. I believed him to be some kind of Wiccan Warlock Overlord in Training and none of these details was the off putting part.

(Maybe the Overlord detail have been a rumor, but the astounding boy-man looked the part.)

The first eye contact was a cold hard mutual stare. They locked pairs of gorgeous, but odd colored eyes at each other as if the two suddenly both dared. His icey blue bore into her hazy grey-blue as she did her best to appear aloof and unaffected. Next, she squinted a tad in an attempt to look sexy, she would not be the weak one who blinked or turned away first. Their stare was intense, and she knew at least that her half felt genuine, yet uncomfortable, jarring of something deep inside of her.

They both hated numbers. Math just swims a muck haplessly in the brain. As a background of Calculus something-or-other was spoken around their spinning heads like the annoying drone of a helicopter, the two sat in class most uncomfortably in their growing erotic state. In her, a swelling she had never known welled up of fear, anxiety, and longing. She crossed and re-crossed my legs in her baby-doll dress over jeans. It was if there was a hot throbbing exuding from him tht she could alreayd feel from across the aisle of desks. Certainly, they were both failing class.

(She swore she did not know what primal was.)

Suddenly, they were walking in the woods as if in a trance. As the woman came to, she jumped ahead on the path in a teasing way. Catch me if you can, perhaps. Of course she looked back over her shoulder coyly, making sure he was following her lead, the lead that she was all about forfeiting to him asap.

And then, the two fell, heavy-laden with each other's bodies, to the grass in the usual fashion.

He sought her face with his hands, his lips to hers both hungrily and awkwardly, in this essence of becoming one. The extreme level of their desires began coupling with their fumbling and a twin sense of emotional overloads.

"Coupling..." however, they did not.

There was no reason to this non-decision, no sense of rules nor judgment per se and no words were uttered between them. For her it was more like a scrambled to get away lastly, afraid after, all of dying. She felt she had ripped a part of my own soul out that day by denying him, even simultaneously as she turned away from him. The cut of dis-affirmation went very deeply into her psyche- existing as a mental block for years to come, not to have cum. Unspoken, they had denied themselves pure id, had denied themselves mutual assured ecstasy.

The two had met at the wrong time, simply.

As if star-crossed, the two understood that together they would have been the most powerful force in the world, there would have been am irreversible rattling, a tear. Each felt as if a serious threat to world order was at stake. A complete bond would have been too astounding. The world, the very atmosphere, would never be ready for the likes of them as one.

Then the air around them turned so cold. The two, now reduced to mere nerdy kid-teens sat indoors side by side but apart, by a fireplace. They laughed awkwardly. There was no more point in this charade. She realized that the reek of his manhood smell was actually the smoke spouting out of the wood stove in his home, and all bets with him were then off indeed. Each was intelligent, but normal. Conversation was goofy and fairly brief besides useless. The woman remembered she had a curfew.

Back in class became frightful as well, shyness and embarrassment at having never been picked out by a man before, as well as from not making good on one's claim, soon overcame the woman and she now sat completely still like a mannequin of her former self, staring ahead at the numbers. In about one more day, the boy-man disappeared completely.

No, literally. She never saw her One to Give My Virginity To ever again in the flesh.

The devil had moved away or something, there would be no explanation much as there had been so few words ever really between them. As a poof of tragic magic gone wrong, one day the embodiment of her entire-so-far sexuality was this subject and the next day he was an empty space by her side. This hole-space she carried with her in that pumping organ in her chest that other people may still call their hearts.

Chatter told her that she was crazy, that she had lied about the whole thing:

"A fiendishly hot guy, wooded area, too perfect, too wrong that he wanted me so completely. It was like something odd had driven him. I hear a rumor, that he had some sort of plan. I so failed to fulfill it. I have zero self-esteem, but I had the audacity to believe for a second in Love. I had acted like a vain sort of egoist in the woods. They are saying that he had cast a spell on me, that he was adept at such, and that somehow he was now to be banished and shamed out of line for obtaining more powers because of me! My own denial to turn my virginity over to him completely, this shall she suffer me a great deal of shame that knows no release. I feel the weight of burnt out hope for carnality. It's all over my body right now. I feel so irrevocably messy."

She lived with having ruined him. She honestly believed all of this. It had been too magical to deny in all aspects. Even in fog, she could remember every split-second of his touch, how he had turned her skin into hot embers. There remained colors like sounds, waves of excitement. The crunching sounds of last year's dry leaves beneath their weight, the smell of something sweet like honeysuckle emanating from somewhere beneath her own ass.

"I knew him to be my wolf. I had been hiding a deep secret that made me feel unworthy of his touch, of the position by his side of esteem and of protection. I was tainted. I had been used. Someone I hated had touched me there, previously. My traitor body would have broken said spell anyway, by being useless and impure. I figured that was what he would have needed me to be, a virgin in order best to pull off something of the magnitude of his spell. The one before had poisoned me into dishonor and submission, taken what he wanted from me. The one who took it did not even give a damn, but it was now me who wounded and damned. I am damned for cursing my One in turn." as she understood it.

It was impossible not to cry for herself too. She felt as if her wolf could have saved her, just maybe. While the mood in his woods had certainly been a one of mutual desire and need, what if she had him take all of her as if he was powerless to stop, as if he had to ravage her directly in order to destroy all her bad parts and pain. Would he have turned and grown into a man and replaced all her desires which felt like blatant greed with feelings of raw delight as well as a purity?

She thought she would want her dark angel to be around to talk to afterwards, to hold her hand. She had never meant for her shortfalls to cause him permanent pain or to strip him of his powers that he had shown such dedication toward, for him to suffer for her indignity, for him to lose because of what had been stolen from her body, if not her soul.

All this over some (slightly) banged up pussy.

The ultimate object of her entire first sexual desire had indeed, evaporated. The years now have told her indeed that this all was crazy, a dream of dreams of satiation, of wholeness. It surely had been too beautiful, so poignant to be real. The dream-nightmare scene; so very formative for her as well as the emptiness, never knowing if their brief encounter had been all in her mind of make believe. Yet, as overwhelming as his raging erotic nature had been, it had seemed so existent, so true. But, there was no seed, no evidence of their full emotions. She would never know Love, nor desire, nor impregnation. None of this had been real, certainly none of this could have been half as formative for him...