John Thornton, Look Back at Me – pt 25

Passionate Treasure

(WARNING: Adult reading, ahead)

“Yes, John.  It’s me.”

John ran to the hall and saw Margaret closing the door behind her.  He watched her come to the top of the steps and into the parlor.  After removing her wrap, he pulled why.”

“John, I not ever felt the weight of this entire situation, as you did, I was never really afraid.  I’m sorry you endured so much pain and anguish on my behalf.”

her hard against him and kissed every inch of her face, trying to wipe away his own fears for her.

“I’m sorry you had to see me in that state, Margaret.  I don’t have the words to explain what that man has done to me.  He has torn out my insides.  I couldn’t get it out of my mind that he might find a way to get to you.  We now believe he is responsible for another unspeakable horror.  You can’t know how, in my mind, I saw you suffering that same despicable act, while I was away.  I went mad with worry and returned home before my work was done.  I knew before walking in there tonight that there was proof against him.  Knowing him like I thought I did, I just had to see him for myself.  I walked the room, which I usually do anyway, but I wanted to watch him watching you.  He watched you constantly, never taking his eyes from you.  His obsession was clear.  Hate is not a strong enough word, for what I felt.  I can hardly believe it’s all over, I had become obsessed, myself, I think.”

John continued as he handed Margaret a brandy and paced the floor not looking at her, sipping at his own glass.”  With him being mentally disturbed, I don’t know if we’ll ever find out

John could not countenance Margaret’s misplaced, well-intentioned apology.  She was so completely and utterly blameless.  Yet, somehow, he knew she’d take some absurd responsibility for driving him to his own rebellious actions.

John put down his glass, swept Margaret into his arms, and carried her to his room.  Waiting through the past few days for terror to strike his life, John had exposed a savage soul living within him.  His most basic, fundamental nature was driving him to brand her as his own.  The gentleman was struggling to survive and do the right thing, but something much deeper and more primordial needed to stake its territory, far stronger than his great love for her.

Moonlight was streaming in through the windows, softly lighting the room with its faint glow.

He let her stand, and he put his hands to her face, holding her steady for a deep probing kiss.  Margaret flung her arms around his neck, meeting the intensity of John’s tongue as he searched her with fierce passion.  With every measure of restraint, he softened his approach, not wanting to dominate.  He wanted glorious pleasure ahead for them tonight.  He had to have her.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes saying, “God, how I love you so.  I don’t care if this is the right time or not for us, but I am going to make love to you.  I am going to savor you with all of my senses.  I cannot wait any longer.  ”

“As I can’t, John.”  Margaret crooned softly as she started to unknot his cravat.  She could feel his heat searing her hands.

The slow sensual ritual of disrobing the other began to unfold but quickly escalated.  John was too anxious, and she was nervous.  Margaret trembled remembering the size of him, which worried her their first night.

As the final pieces of clothing found the floor, John kissed her tenderly and carried her to his bed, placing her on her back.

“You’re trembling Margaret?  What is it?  Tell me.”

With tears in her eyes, Margaret reluctantly confessed, “I’m worried we won’t fit together.  You are very . . . well . . .  and I don’t think . . .”

John leaned in and stifled her words with his lips, savoring her.  “Have no concerns there.  I will take it very slowly.  How I love your innocence.”

Lying beside her, he soothed her with soft whispers of love and kissed her deeply while she ran her fingers through his hair and down his back.  He could feel her body was tight as a bowstring.  He became aware of how anxious he was, which might be scaring her, after her concern of their compatibility.  Responding to her needs, he gently stroked her and kissed her until her muscles relaxed and her fears turned to longing.  His hands found all of her body.  He softly stroked her nipples already pebbled and waiting.  The smooth moistness of his tongue found the hollow of her neck and John could feel her rapid pulse beating against his lips.  As he moved down to her breasts, he regarded her heavy breathing, which was matching his own.  He suckled at her, pressing her nipple hard against the roof of his mouth, while his tongue worked, pleasing them both.  She began to writhe under his touch.  John knew her body was calling for his.  His hand found the moistness that waited within her womanly folds.  She was exquisitely wet, ready to take him into her.  John knew this beginning would be far too fast for what he wanted her to experience.

“Margaret, I must tell you that this first time will be uncomfortable for you, unlike any other time after this.  I will gently expand you to except me, and it will be fast because I am about to erupt now.  I will take you.  I will not be making love to you because my needs are beyond my control now and won’t be what I want for both of us.  But that is only for this first moment.  Our lives will be forever enriched with what we will share tonight.”

“John, I don’t care that it will hurt.  I want you to fill me . . . please.”  Margaret said while stroking his face.  “You have to believe that.”

Hearing this from Margaret’s lips, John smothered her mouth, silencing any other words she might have said.  Being as gentle and thoughtful as he could, he wiped the saliva from his mouth to his hand and wet his penis wanting to ease this anyway he could for her.  He proceeded to guide himself into her small opening.  Exerting the first small thrust, he heard Margaret inhale slowly.

“Shall I stop?  I won’t be able to much longer.”

“No, don’t stop no matter what I say.  I want this.”

John thrust deeper and waited while her sheath adjusted to him.  He could feel her womanhood responding with contractions around him, her body was embracing him from within.  Taking these first steps in small intervals, for John, the pleasure was tortuous.  He drove deeper, holding back some of his length and then started the slow strokes that brought him to shuddering completion, within seconds.

Margaret heard a soft low husky sigh.  His life jetted into her, seemingly without end.  She felt the flow of his seed and held him tightly while he panted for breath.  She knew he withheld the all of him, denying his own ultimate sensation.  He made it so gentle for her, relieving her of any fear, but his strained control had cost him, momentarily.

He buried his head in her neck and laid there for a few seconds, experiencing every movement of her inner passage.  “Margaret.  I’ve never felt like this.”  He lingered over her, savoring the scent of her aroused body and feeling her moist skin against his.  John withdrew from her and rolled to his side, pulling Margaret onto his shoulder and held her tightly.  He kissed her.

“We have not fulfilled our passion as one yet, but we will.  You are staying all night in my bed.”

He kissed her.  “Are you alright?”  John whispered.

“I’m more than alright, John.  I want you again.  You make me feel like a woman.”

“No, I haven’t, not completely.  Soon, we will both go there together.”

John went to his basin of water, washed, and brought back the wet cloth to the bed.  Margaret reached for it, and John said, “No, let me bathe you.”

Margaret started to protest.

John laid her back down on the bed saying, “I will clean myself from you.”

At John’s urging, Margaret timidly opened her thighs to him, he nudged them a bit wider.  With the utmost delicacy, he washed her folds before spreading her further open with his other hand.  Using his lightest touch, he washed all of her sensitive parts.

“This is an incredible pleasure for me, “John whispered reverently.  Finished, he returned the cloth to the basin.

Returning to the bed, he was aroused again.  As he laid back down by her, pulling her to him, she reached down to hold his erect penis.  She caressed all of his maleness and enjoyed the sound of his accelerated heartbeats.

“God, how I love you touching me like this, but I’m not so sure you should be doing that Margaret, not now anyway.  Are you not a bit tender?  You are slightly swollen.”

“I just want to know you, John.  You have torn down walls I had built around myself.  I don’t want this night to end.  Let me hold you.”  Margaret caressed and stroked John.

John nestled her closer and allowed himself to be lost in her unhindered innocence, but that lasted a very short time.

Before she knew what happened, Margaret felt a delicate suckling at her breast.  John’s musky scent filled the air.


“Ummm . . .” John hummed, not wanting to leave her nipple.

“The first time tonight . . . when you said you would take me and not make love to me . . .”


“That’s all the lovemaking that I’ve ever experienced except you were more gentle and caring and explained things to me.  On the rare occasions when he wanted to have sex, and that’s the only way that I can think of it now, it was very brief.  No real pleasure for me, but I thought that was how it was supposed to be because that’s all I ever knew.”

In John’s quiet deep voice he said, “Margaret, he was not making love to you.  That was just a physical release for him like I just went through.  I think a lot of married couples go through life that way because they don’t love each other as passionately as we love each other.  They don’t know how or are too modest to share their intimacy.  They don’t communicate and share their needs and desires.  We will never let that happen to us.  I cannot be thankful enough to be the only man to make love to you, and bring you the full feeling of womanhood that you and I deserve.  And it will be my first time for making love too, for I have loved no other.  I have only experienced sex, like you.  You and I are the same in that respect.  We have waited for each other in our hearts across time and space, whether realizing it or not.  I could feel you speaking out to me through your silence.  It was almost like our souls were linked without our minds knowing of the connection.  From the day we were parted, we have fought our way back to each other, somehow crushing the walls thrown between us.  We have survived all the hardships, disappointments, the test of time, the detours, but our love held strong and pulled us through.  You held me somewhere in your heart, and I loved you more than life.  We’ve been waiting many years for our time, and it is here . . . it is here, now.”

John lovingly returned to her breasts that were waiting for him.  Kissing all of her body from her neck to the back of her knees; his hand returning to her soft mound while he urged her thighs open.  Margaret was circling his nipples with her fingertips, making him momentarily slow his own actions and emit a soft moan.  He drew up to kiss her hard and deep, and she welcomed him.  While probing her mouth with his tongue, he was probing her sensitive cleft with his fingers.  He started to fondle her small nub delicately but only for a few moments, heightening her sensation and expectations, loving the change in her body as she shook and the intake of her breath every time he touched her like that.  Leaving her mouth, he once more looked into her eyes, before she closed them leaving unshed tears seeping out of the corners.  Smooth, soft caressing kisses and licks traveled her neck and collarbone and finally down to her breasts where John suckled from her, once more.  Her heart was beating a soft tattoo that pulsated against his mouth as he suckled each sweet nipple.  Being unexpectedly bold, Margaret slid his hand back down to her small opening.  Loving her sensual impatience, John, smiling inwardly, found the dew of her entry.  Heralding her readiness, he moved down and stroked her with his tongue, emboldening her response, as her hips wanted to lift off the bed, wanting more of him.  Again he moistened himself and cradled within her soft trembling thighs.

Whimpering sounds were heard as Margaret anticipated his entry.  Her movements became a live wire in his arms, reaching up for more of him.  He smoothly thrust forward as she tried to draw him in further and deeper.  “Are you sure you want all of me?”  John asked barely above a whisper.

“Yes, all of you, John,” she squeaked out.

John easily lifted her buttocks, positioning her for her pleasure and his.  Every thrust was going deeper and deeper.  Margaret’s body was accepting the all of him.  She was holding on tightly to John’s upper arms.  He thrust further and faster, sheathing his erection to its hilt.  He was lost in the sensation of burying himself deep within her, branding her as his own.  He had wanted this.  This.  Not just the pleasure, but the joining with her, the intimate bonding of one to the other.

By some instinct she didn’t understand, she wrapped her legs around John’s waste, not wanting to let him go.  She was lifting towards him.  She wanted everything he had to give.

The wonder of it caught at his heart, and he held deep in her, savoring every one of her internal contractions.  He slowed it down, withdrawing slowly and pressing inward again and again.

Margaret’s moaning mirrored her own arching rhythm.  John was delirious with her craving for him.  She was starting to spiral below him

“John . . . I love  . . .”

“Shhh . . . Margaret, you’re almost there.

John began increasing his speed and powerful thrusts.  She began to claw at his back.  Their souls were connecting, through the torment of the rising pleasure.  He plunged deep inside and held himself completely sheathed, for a moment, so he would not spill himself into her, yet.  They would share their ecstasy of this moment as one.  Feeling her body starting to shake violently, John moved higher on her, so each thrust and withdrawal caused the massaging of her most sensitive area.

Margaret’s wet face gazed into John’s eyes, pleading.  She tried to speak, but John swallowed her sound.  His hair was wet with sweat from the effort of his perfect control.  Her breaths came fast and shallow.  John was driving deep and fast now, there was no holding back anything.  Margaret closed her eyes as she was being drawn higher and higher into a celestial world.  She was moaning his name.  Suddenly all of her nerve endings and muscles collided into a burst of release.

In a gush of air, John loudly whispered Margaret’s name as he writhed against her, milked dry by the rhythmic muscle contractions of her sweet sheath, bringing them both to dazzling bliss.  Burying himself deep, John convulsed and then lay still within her.  He embraced her shuddering descent and held her close through her sounds of pleasure; he wanted to be part of her continuing orgasm.  His intentional movements against her womanhood sustained her spasms, which kept him aroused.  Watching her discover what she was capable of experiencing, enraptured him.  He knew they had found the euphoria he had sought for them, their oneness was beyond belief.  Incredible bliss for him, as he thrilled to her continued descent for many moments until she was finally exhausted and lay breathless, but one stroke would continue her journey, he knew.

As he hesitatingly withdrew, John regarded her for several moments, marveling at Margaret on his bed in the moonlight.  His woman . . . her eyes were closed, she was wet from his sweat, her nipples were pebbled, her hands were just starting to unclench, her breasts were heaving, her legs were still quaking.  He would never forget the sight of her at that moment.  She was the epitome of the visions his manhood sought.  He was all man, and she was all woman.  And they were one.

John rolled to her side enabling them both the ability to pull air into their lungs.  The overwhelming joy brought tears of happiness again to Margaret.

Margaret sobbed to him,” It’s too . . . there’s not a big enough word . . . to tell how you make me feel.”

John faced towards her, “It will be forever like this for us, love.”

John rose up to look into her face.  “Was it all you had hoped for, Margaret?

“John, There was never any hope for anything like this.  It didn’t exist in my world until now.  I felt like I was floating away, being drawn to an ethereal plane in the dark sky.  The entire experience shatters the sanity from the tormented pleasure of the buildup, breaking through the barrier of relief, and then gently floats you back to earth with all its tremors and spasms and shudders until you are completely spent.”

“Margaret, you might be interested in knowing that I can take you to your ethereal plane over and over, until you faint, where I cannot.  I need rest stops along the way.  Care to try?”  John smiled into the dark, thinking . . . maybe someday.

“I do not have enough air for such another trip, just now.”

“Yes, I know.  That’s what would cause you to faint and wouldn’t that be lovely?”

“How was I, for you, John?”

Pausing, finding words that only began to say how he felt, “There are no words.  It was far more than I imagined . . . the sweet anticipation . . . the sensual reciprocation, the nurturing of each other.  With you beneath me, they were the loveliest moments of my life.  I felt our souls touch.  It was so much more than the physical release as I’ve known before.  I cannot explain the depth of love that filled me when we were united as one.  You are mine and always will be.  I felt like I wanted to bury myself in you and crush you to me so that you are part of me.  Margaret, whatever doubts you have had about yourself, consider them vanquished because under all that lady is a real woman that I want for the rest of my life, as I knew you would be.

Margaret started to weep quietly at John’s beautiful words.  He pulled her close, nestling his mouth in her hair and kissing her, while lightly stroking her smooth skin.  She was his to possess and protect.

They cuddled close and slept, waking twice more over the hours to enjoy each other’s passionate embraces.  John knew he was one step away from the top of his ladder, his life, his world.  When she married him, he would meet the pinnacle of his life.