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The Seventeen Moments of He and She

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Blue said:
Ok.... but what if your punishment for looking was his immediate departure and end of his assistance?

Perhaps her being forbidden to see the site is analogous to being tied facing the post, arms up high, back and buttocks completely exposed, waiting for that first strike...waiting...waiting...waiting...waiting...waiting...
Click to expand...
Of course you're right, but what do you want, I would be so anxious and impatient. I will beg him to forgive me and punish me.
 
The Seventeen Moments of He and She
Moment Three - The Confrontation

Monday morning came with rainy weather. Though he had anticipated this possibility, and had taken appropriate precautions, he was still concerned the hole for the cross would wash out, or the walls of the grave would collapse, causing him more work on behalf of her, in his mind at least, senseless and unnecessary penance.

He found himself outside in the rain every thirty minutes or so, checking the site to make sure everything was ok. It was, but he wasn’t... Looking at the cross on the ground, the hole that awaited it and the grave that awaited her he began to feel angry. “What the fuck is wrong with this fucking woman...?” he said out loud to no one in particular. “What the fuck am I doing here? She’s crazy and I’m even crazier for helping her with this... I should just go and let her crucify, hang, slash, drown, or however she wants to off herself… If she’s still so keen on dying she should do it by herself.” His frustrations rose with each trip to the site, his foul mood following him back to the cottage.

She was uncomfortable both physically and emotionally. By noon she had already gotten tired of her liquid diet and was very hungry. His deteriorating mood every time he returned from the site was grating on her too; she wished she could go out with him to check the site and calm him down, but he had forbidden her to see it beforehand and appeared to be in no mood to change his mind... The space was too confined to have this enormous decision hurling towards you with a grumpy middle-aged man adding to your own inner conflicts. She avoided him as much as she could.

The rain continued heavily off and on all that Monday up into the late-night hours. He was sure he would have to re-dig everything... with the added hassle of having to wait until after the now-soaked earth firmed up a bit. That could cause delay, possibly into the next week.

In his heart, he was desperately hoping this was the case as, perhaps, it would give her some more time to change her mind and put this episode behind both of them.

He rose at first light Tuesday morning and checked the conditions at the site. His most secret and horrible fears were confirmed in an instant: everything was in perfect condition, even the cross had a more natural wooden sheen to it... There would be no delay, everything was still on schedule. He cried, loudly. She heard him from her bed and knew immediately what he saw.

Rather than heading back to the cottage he went for a short walk, trying to come to grips with the realization that her crucifixion was likely going to happen. In roughly 24 hours he would be nailing a beautiful, vibrant, and lively woman to a cross and spend untold hours watching her struggle and slowly die. “How the fuck did I ....” he thought, shaking his head back and forth, not needing to complete the sentence.

When he finally returned to the cottage, he saw she was up, standing in the kitchen wearing a tank top tee shirt and shorts. Their eyes met as he walked inside, stopping him in his tracks. After a tense moment he simply said, “it all looks good, no problems from the storm” and continued walking.

She gulped at the confirmation of what she already knew, closing her eyes for a moment to let the reality sink in. “Can I make you breakfast?” She asked him, almost cheerily, attempting to change his mood.

“Not now, thanks. Shower...” was his droll, emotionless reply as he left the room, leaving her there, alone. Completely alone...

The shower felt amazing… as if the entire previous day’s stress was being washed away from his body. Suddenly, he was interrupted in his revelry by the sound of the bathroom door opening. They had never used the bathroom together before, he thought it was unusual to start now. He heard her lift the toilet lid, then the rustling sound of shorts and underwear being lowered, followed by the sound of pee hitting the toilet. “Oh, great, all I need to do is fart now and we’ll be just like a married couple...” he thought to himself. He heard the toilet flush, and, without warning, she pulled open the shower curtain and stared at him, their eyes locked: hers were full of tears.

“I need you now more than any time I’ve needed a man in my life. I could’ve done this with dozens of men before, dozens… but I chose you; I CHOSE YOU!!!” Her body was trembling as she spoke. “Please, please, PLEASE... don’t let me down now, not when I need you the most!” She had her arms folded in front of her chest, her eyes full of tears, mouth quivering in sadness, openly sobbing.

He turned off the water, looked at her, incredulous as to what she was saying. He reached for the bath towel, dried his hair, chest, then his arms before speaking: “I know you chose me; I know… I know… and I will live up to my promise. But I just don’t get it.... I don’t get it at all......why do you want to die on the cross, crucified… fucking CRUCIFIED…! Why do you want to die at all for a mistake you made in the past - once… Years ago… ONCE!”

Her body stiffened as she yelled at him: “DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!! I DON’T WANT TO SUFFER ON THE CROSS TILL MY LAST BREATH” she was nearly hyperventilating, so emphatic was her response. “I NEED TO DIE ON THE CROSS... I NEED TO!!! NEEEEED TO...!!!! NEEEEEEEEEEEED TO!!!!” Her fists clenched, rising up and down, shaking at each utterance of the word “need.” She continued: “IT’S THE ONLY WAY I CAN PAY FOR MY SIN ACCORDING TO GOD!!! THE ONLY WAY... The only way.... the only......” Her voice trailed off as her hands covered her crying eyes, shoulders shrugged in utter sadness and despair.

He dropped his towel and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close while her anguished tears fell on his shoulder. Her arms embraced him, together they rocked back and forth with him stroking her hair ever so gently telling her it will be ok, everything will be ok. They stayed like that, in a mutually supportive embrace, for untold minutes.

She hadn’t cried like that in years, feeling a relief she couldn’t have imagined. It was true: she didn’t want to be crucified and die, far from it. She could easily picture just going on with her life as it was months ago or starting a new chapter with this guy. She didn’t want to die but she felt like she HAD to be crucified to atone for her sin. It has been a huge dilemma raging within her for years and years: haunting her every step, every relationship, every decision. Now that the day was fast approaching the dilemma reached a crisis stage of anxiety and doubt. Did she really have to be crucified? Could she go on living carrying this dark secret about her past? What good does it do anyone to sacrifice your life for a memory?

She began to calm down in the security of his embrace and his gently spoken words of comfort. He continued rocking her in his arms and caressing her hair. After a while they both began to realize he was naked, having been confronted by her while still in the shower. She lifted her head, pulled away a bit, both of their hands sliding to each other’s elbows. Her hands drifted to his hips while his hands framed her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. She leaned her head to the right, closing her eyes and opening her mouth; he drew her closer to him.
 
Blue said:
The Seventeen Moments of He and She
Moment Three - The Confrontation

Monday morning came with rainy weather. Though he had anticipated this possibility, and had taken appropriate precautions, he was still concerned the hole for the cross would wash out, or the walls of the grave would collapse, causing him more work on behalf of her, in his mind at least, senseless and unnecessary penance.

He found himself outside in the rain every thirty minutes or so, checking the site to make sure everything was ok. It was, but he wasn’t... Looking at the cross on the ground, the hole that awaited it and the grave that awaited her he began to feel angry. “What the fuck is wrong with this fucking woman...?” he said out loud to no one in particular. “What the fuck am I doing here? She’s crazy and I’m even crazier for helping her with this... I should just go and let her crucify, hang, slash, drown, or however she wants to off herself… If she’s still so keen on dying she should do it by herself.” His frustrations rose with each trip to the site, his foul mood following him back to the cottage.

She was uncomfortable both physically and emotionally. By noon she had already gotten tired of her liquid diet and was very hungry. His deteriorating mood every time he returned from the site was grating on her too; she wished she could go out with him to check the site and calm him down, but he had forbidden her to see it beforehand and appeared to be in no mood to change his mind... The space was too confined to have this enormous decision hurling towards you with a grumpy middle-aged man adding to your own inner conflicts. She avoided him as much as she could.

The rain continued heavily off and on all that Monday up into the late-night hours. He was sure he would have to re-dig everything... with the added hassle of having to wait until after the now-soaked earth firmed up a bit. That could cause delay, possibly into the next week.

In his heart, he was desperately hoping this was the case as, perhaps, it would give her some more time to change her mind and put this episode behind both of them.

He rose at first light Tuesday morning and checked the conditions at the site. His most secret and horrible fears were confirmed in an instant: everything was in perfect condition, even the cross had a more natural wooden sheen to it... There would be no delay, everything was still on schedule. He cried, loudly. She heard him from her bed and knew immediately what he saw.

Rather than heading back to the cottage he went for a short walk, trying to come to grips with the realization that her crucifixion was likely going to happen. In roughly 24 hours he would be nailing a beautiful, vibrant, and lively woman to a cross and spend untold hours watching her struggle and slowly die. “How the fuck did I ....” he thought, shaking his head back and forth, not needing to complete the sentence.

When he finally returned to the cottage, he saw she was up, standing in the kitchen wearing a tank top tee shirt and shorts. Their eyes met as he walked inside, stopping him in his tracks. After a tense moment he simply said, “it all looks good, no problems from the storm” and continued walking.

She gulped at the confirmation of what she already knew, closing her eyes for a moment to let the reality sink in. “Can I make you breakfast?” She asked him, almost cheerily, attempting to change his mood.

“Not now, thanks. Shower...” was his droll, emotionless reply as he left the room, leaving her there, alone. Completely alone...

The shower felt amazing… as if the entire previous day’s stress was being washed away from his body. Suddenly, he was interrupted in his revelry by the sound of the bathroom door opening. They had never used the bathroom together before, he thought it was unusual to start now. He heard her lift the toilet lid, then the rustling sound of shorts and underwear being lowered, followed by the sound of pee hitting the toilet. “Oh, great, all I need to do is fart now and we’ll be just like a married couple...” he thought to himself. He heard the toilet flush, and, without warning, she pulled open the shower curtain and stared at him, their eyes locked: hers were full of tears.

“I need you now more than any time I’ve needed a man in my life. I could’ve done this with dozens of men before, dozens… but I chose you; I CHOSE YOU!!!” Her body was trembling as she spoke. “Please, please, PLEASE... don’t let me down now, not when I need you the most!” She had her arms folded in front of her chest, her eyes full of tears, mouth quivering in sadness, openly sobbing.

He turned off the water, looked at her, incredulous as to what she was saying. He reached for the bath towel, dried his hair, chest, then his arms before speaking: “I know you chose me; I know… I know… and I will live up to my promise. But I just don’t get it.... I don’t get it at all......why do you want to die on the cross, crucified… fucking CRUCIFIED…! Why do you want to die at all for a mistake you made in the past - once… Years ago… ONCE!”

Her body stiffened as she yelled at him: “DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!! I DON’T WANT TO SUFFER ON THE CROSS TILL MY LAST BREATH” she was nearly hyperventilating, so emphatic was her response. “I NEED TO DIE ON THE CROSS... I NEED TO!!! NEEEEED TO...!!!! NEEEEEEEEEEEED TO!!!!” Her fists clenched, rising up and down, shaking at each utterance of the word “need.” She continued: “IT’S THE ONLY WAY I CAN PAY FOR MY SIN ACCORDING TO GOD!!! THE ONLY WAY... The only way.... the only......” Her voice trailed off as her hands covered her crying eyes, shoulders shrugged in utter sadness and despair.

He dropped his towel and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close while her anguished tears fell on his shoulder. Her arms embraced him, together they rocked back and forth with him stroking her hair ever so gently telling her it will be ok, everything will be ok. They stayed like that, in a mutually supportive embrace, for untold minutes.

She hadn’t cried like that in years, feeling a relief she couldn’t have imagined. It was true: she didn’t want to be crucified and die, far from it. She could easily picture just going on with her life as it was months ago or starting a new chapter with this guy. She didn’t want to die but she felt like she HAD to be crucified to atone for her sin. It has been a huge dilemma raging within her for years and years: haunting her every step, every relationship, every decision. Now that the day was fast approaching the dilemma reached a crisis stage of anxiety and doubt. Did she really have to be crucified? Could she go on living carrying this dark secret about her past? What good does it do anyone to sacrifice your life for a memory?

She began to calm down in the security of his embrace and his gently spoken words of comfort. He continued rocking her in his arms and caressing her hair. After a while they both began to realize he was naked, having been confronted by her while still in the shower. She lifted her head, pulled away a bit, both of their hands sliding to each other’s elbows. Her hands drifted to his hips while his hands framed her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. She leaned her head to the right, closing her eyes and opening her mouth; he drew her closer to him.
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I know it wouldn't be a great CF story but quite frankly I think given his reluctance and her state of mind, the man should get her in his car and have her sectioned and admitted to a mental institution... but if @Blue insists, we are all, I'm sure, prepared to witness her fatal torture and execution ...
 
Blue said:
The Seventeen Moments of He and She
Moment Three - The Confrontation
Click to expand...
Amazing story so far, very well written and to be honest, quite shocking. As was intended of course. I agree with @Fossy that this girl most likely needs psychiatric help. But I am also quite eager to see how this plays out.
 
The Seventeen Moments of He and She
Moment Four - Joined

Their lips met, gently, lingering for a few seconds before both pulling back, gazing into the other’s eyes. This was supposed to happen later tonight, with some prescribed actions that were of special significance to both. But in the heat of the moment circumstances had changed, drastically…, spontaneity ruled.

They greedily rejoined their kiss, this time with reckless abandon. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and his hands grabbed her ass cheeks, at first massaging them, then drawing her close and lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on, feeling his erect cock rub against her pussy through her shorts. Like this, he carried her to the bed, depositing her right in the middle and grinding himself on top of while her arms roamed over his naked back and ass.

Their kissing was frenzied, months of wondering what the other was like in bed had built up a wellspring of sexual desire. The dam had burst, the flood waters of pent-up passion overwhelmed their senses.

He rose to his knees and smiled as he quickly tugged of her shorts and panties in one swoop. She removed her top and unclasped her bra, throwing it over the side of the bed. There was no pretense of seduction and foreplay - there would be time for that tonight - right now she just wanted to feel him inside her and he just wanted to be inside her. The sex was powerful, animalistic, and intense. No switching position, no pause for playfulness, no expectation of release on her part. They were intensely joined together now; his release was all that was needed to consummate that fact. Their wordless moans and grunts soon rose to a fever pitch: when his cock erupted inside her depths he almost passed out, so intense was the release. She loved feeling his body quake as he exploded inside her, holding him close as he gasped “oh god, oh god, oh god, ohhhhh godddd...” The irony of that statement was not lost on her.

They lay in bed for hours, dozing on and off, always maintaining body contact. She finally woke up fully and jostled him awake. “Hey, it’s almost 11:00, let me make you some breakfast, let’s go outside and have the best day of our lives! I want to show you things I’ve seen on my walks, things we all take for granted unless we really pay close attention. Come on, we’re burning daylight!!!”

What followed was one of those endless summer days, a day most often associated with the carefree existence of childhood where responsibilities, worries about the future, fears of uncertainty, all did not exist. The only existence was in the moment, the here-and-now with regard for neither the future nor the past. The feeling was profound, the day was magical, purely magical; neither of them wanted it to end.

They returned to the cottage sweaty, tired, but also exhilarated by their time together. A bit of reality came back as she was limited to only fluids for dinner; he made himself a quick sandwich and ate it out of her sight. She had the added task of purging her bowels with an enema... he saw her carrying the equipment with a concerned look on her face. He shouted “Wait! I can help you with that.”

“Uhhhh, NO! It’s embarrassing enough to have to do it, I sure as hell don’t want to do it in front of you!!!”

“Welll.... that’s not the kind of help I was thinking of...” he held up a big fat joint, grinning from ear to ear. “Colombian Gold – ever hear of it? Was the best-of-the-best when I was a kid. Guaranteed to ease both the emotional and physical pain of any enema, anytime, anywhere in THE WORLD!!!”

They both laughed, he lit up and she joined him. They took only a few hits as they didn’t want to get too fucked up and spoil their plans for the night, it was just enough to take off the edge and stay in the moment.

Several minutes later he could hear her fumbling around in the bathroom, laughing hysterically at her own ineptitude at the task! Through the closed door he offered to help but she declined. Eventually, he heard the sound of water running and her voice going “woaaaaa” in amazement at the procedure.

“All good in there?” He asked, himself giggling... She stuck her head out the door and shouted “Success! I’m going to shower and get ready.” That was his cue to begin the plans for the night, perhaps the last night of her life...
 
Blue said:
The Seventeen Moments of He and She
Moment Four - Joined

Their lips met, gently, lingering for a few seconds before both pulling back, gazing into the other’s eyes. This was supposed to happen later tonight, with some prescribed actions that were of special significance to both. But in the heat of the moment circumstances had changed, drastically…, spontaneity ruled.

They greedily rejoined their kiss, this time with reckless abandon. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and his hands grabbed her ass cheeks, at first massaging them, then drawing her close and lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on, feeling his erect cock rub against her pussy through her shorts. Like this, he carried her to the bed, depositing her right in the middle and grinding himself on top of while her arms roamed over his naked back and ass.

Their kissing was frenzied, months of wondering what the other was like in bed had built up a wellspring of sexual desire. The dam had burst, the flood waters of pent-up passion overwhelmed their senses.

He rose to his knees and smiled as he quickly tugged of her shorts and panties in one swoop. She removed her top and unclasped her bra, throwing it over the side of the bed. There was no pretense of seduction and foreplay - there would be time for that tonight - right now she just wanted to feel him inside her and he just wanted to be inside her. The sex was powerful, animalistic, and intense. No switching position, no pause for playfulness, no expectation of release on her part. They were intensely joined together now; his release was all that was needed to consummate that fact. Their wordless moans and grunts soon rose to a fever pitch: when his cock erupted inside her depths he almost passed out, so intense was the release. She loved feeling his body quake as he exploded inside her, holding him close as he gasped “oh god, oh god, oh god, ohhhhh godddd...” The irony of that statement was not lost on her.

They lay in bed for hours, dozing on and off, always maintaining body contact. She finally woke up fully and jostled him awake. “Hey, it’s almost 11:00, let me make you some breakfast, let’s go outside and have the best day of our lives! I want to show you things I’ve seen on my walks, things we all take for granted unless we really pay close attention. Come on, we’re burning daylight!!!”

What followed was one of those endless summer days, a day most often associated with the carefree existence of childhood where responsibilities, worries about the future, fears of uncertainty, all did not exist. The only existence was in the moment, the here-and-now with regard for neither the future nor the past. The feeling was profound, the day was magical, purely magical; neither of them wanted it to end.

They returned to the cottage sweaty, tired, but also exhilarated by their time together. A bit of reality came back as she was limited to only fluids for dinner; he made himself a quick sandwich and ate it out of her sight. She had the added task of purging her bowels with an enema... he saw her carrying the equipment with a concerned look on her face. He shouted “Wait! I can help you with that.”

“Uhhhh, NO! It’s embarrassing enough to have to do it, I sure as hell don’t want to do it in front of you!!!”

“Welll.... that’s not the kind of help I was thinking of...” he held up a big fat joint, grinning from ear to ear. “Colombian Gold – ever hear of it? Was the best-of-the-best when I was a kid. Guaranteed to ease both the emotional and physical pain of any enema, anytime, anywhere in THE WORLD!!!”

They both laughed, he lit up and she joined him. They took only a few hits as they didn’t want to get too fucked up and spoil their plans for the night, it was just enough to take off the edge and stay in the moment.

Several minutes later he could hear her fumbling around in the bathroom, laughing hysterically at her own ineptitude at the task! Through the closed door he offered to help but she declined. Eventually, he heard the sound of water running and her voice going “woaaaaa” in amazement at the procedure.

“All good in there?” He asked, himself giggling... She stuck her head out the door and shouted “Success! I’m going to shower and get ready.” That was his cue to begin the plans for the night, perhaps the last night of her life...
Click to expand...
more and more exciting, how will she react when she realizes that she will wear no more clothes and die naked
 
Blue said:
The Seventeen Moments of He and She
Moment Four - Joined

Their lips met, gently, lingering for a few seconds before both pulling back, gazing into the other’s eyes. This was supposed to happen later tonight, with some prescribed actions that were of special significance to both. But in the heat of the moment circumstances had changed, drastically…, spontaneity ruled.

They greedily rejoined their kiss, this time with reckless abandon. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and his hands grabbed her ass cheeks, at first massaging them, then drawing her close and lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on, feeling his erect cock rub against her pussy through her shorts. Like this, he carried her to the bed, depositing her right in the middle and grinding himself on top of while her arms roamed over his naked back and ass.

Their kissing was frenzied, months of wondering what the other was like in bed had built up a wellspring of sexual desire. The dam had burst, the flood waters of pent-up passion overwhelmed their senses.

He rose to his knees and smiled as he quickly tugged of her shorts and panties in one swoop. She removed her top and unclasped her bra, throwing it over the side of the bed. There was no pretense of seduction and foreplay - there would be time for that tonight - right now she just wanted to feel him inside her and he just wanted to be inside her. The sex was powerful, animalistic, and intense. No switching position, no pause for playfulness, no expectation of release on her part. They were intensely joined together now; his release was all that was needed to consummate that fact. Their wordless moans and grunts soon rose to a fever pitch: when his cock erupted inside her depths he almost passed out, so intense was the release. She loved feeling his body quake as he exploded inside her, holding him close as he gasped “oh god, oh god, oh god, ohhhhh godddd...” The irony of that statement was not lost on her.

They lay in bed for hours, dozing on and off, always maintaining body contact. She finally woke up fully and jostled him awake. “Hey, it’s almost 11:00, let me make you some breakfast, let’s go outside and have the best day of our lives! I want to show you things I’ve seen on my walks, things we all take for granted unless we really pay close attention. Come on, we’re burning daylight!!!”

What followed was one of those endless summer days, a day most often associated with the carefree existence of childhood where responsibilities, worries about the future, fears of uncertainty, all did not exist. The only existence was in the moment, the here-and-now with regard for neither the future nor the past. The feeling was profound, the day was magical, purely magical; neither of them wanted it to end.

They returned to the cottage sweaty, tired, but also exhilarated by their time together. A bit of reality came back as she was limited to only fluids for dinner; he made himself a quick sandwich and ate it out of her sight. She had the added task of purging her bowels with an enema... he saw her carrying the equipment with a concerned look on her face. He shouted “Wait! I can help you with that.”

“Uhhhh, NO! It’s embarrassing enough to have to do it, I sure as hell don’t want to do it in front of you!!!”

“Welll.... that’s not the kind of help I was thinking of...” he held up a big fat joint, grinning from ear to ear. “Colombian Gold – ever hear of it? Was the best-of-the-best when I was a kid. Guaranteed to ease both the emotional and physical pain of any enema, anytime, anywhere in THE WORLD!!!”

They both laughed, he lit up and she joined him. They took only a few hits as they didn’t want to get too fucked up and spoil their plans for the night, it was just enough to take off the edge and stay in the moment.

Several minutes later he could hear her fumbling around in the bathroom, laughing hysterically at her own ineptitude at the task! Through the closed door he offered to help but she declined. Eventually, he heard the sound of water running and her voice going “woaaaaa” in amazement at the procedure.

“All good in there?” He asked, himself giggling... She stuck her head out the door and shouted “Success! I’m going to shower and get ready.” That was his cue to begin the plans for the night, perhaps the last night of her life...
Click to expand...
Loving the story and your writing style Blue, really getting into it and waiting for the next episode with great anticipation.
Keep it going
 
Blue said:
Several minutes later he could hear her fumbling around in the bathroom, laughing hysterically at her own ineptitude at the task! Through the closed door he offered to help but she declined. Eventually, he heard the sound of water running and her voice going “woaaaaa” in amazement at the procedure.
Click to expand...
Such a contrast with the tension that is also building. I love this little scene, especially her exclamation of spaced out surprise. :D
 
The Seventeen Moments of He and She
Moment Five - Surrender

He went to the dresser and got the attire they chose for their official joining: matching black satin robes for each with black satin bikini panties for her and black satin boxers for him. While she was in the shower, he carefully made the bed with fresh sheets, leaving her outfit on top of it. He took his outfit and waited in the living room for his turn in the shower.

She walked out the bathroom with one towel wrapped around her body and another covering her hair: “all yours” she said in a cheery voice, the weed obviously lingering in her blood stream. She entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She turned around to face the bed and saw her outfit painstakingly laid out for her. She gasped slightly, catching her breath at the sight, momentarily reminded of the purpose of her time here. She quickly cast those thoughts aside (the weed helped) and focused on making herself feel beautiful for him, and for herself.

She could hear him in the bathroom, getting himself ready to be with her. She allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to do this on an ordinary night, to primp herself for him before sharing a night on the town, or, perhaps, an evening with friends. Looking at her now-naked body in the mirror, hair neatly resting on her shoulders and makeup tastefully applied, she imagined herself at his side, facing life’s journey together: sharing the many moments, some grand, some not-so-grand, and some downright banal that, in sum, defined a lifetime.

Up until this moment, anytime she saw her naked reflection she could only imagine herself crucified, writhing, struggling for breath in utter agony and unmatched suffering. Paying the ultimate price for her horrible sin.

This old image conflicted with the new image she was embracing in this moment; the image of becoming his lover. Slowly but surely a raging battle was brewing in her subconscious between these self-images, she paid it no mind now, there was plenty of time to do that later.

She clutched the golden cross around her neck and walked towards the bed. She put the robe on first, enjoying the smooth and sensual feel of the fine material caressing her soft skin. She reached for the panties and slipped in one foot, then the next, and slowly slid them up her legs, the friction of the fabric against her thighs felt sooooo good! She stood up, secured the panties in place, and sat back on the bed, tying the belt of her robe so it closed snug around her waist. She sat on the edge of the bed in anticipation of his knock, it came less than a minute after she sat down.

“OK for me to come in. Are you ready?” She heard him say.

“Yes, I’m ready.” She stood up facing the doorway, hands at her sides.

Slowly, the door opened, and he carefully stepped into the bedroom. For the first time since they met, she looked at him as a sexual being; and she liked what she saw! His broad shoulders and chest filled out the robe nicely while toned, muscular legs supported that chest. His brown hair was relatively short, fitting his face well. His eyes had a penetrating quality, yet they also had a softness that made him easy to talk to, as she had already discovered while planning her crucifixion. The salt-and-pepper beard was the only hint as to his actual age.

He looked at her with new eyes as well. He thought she was beautiful the first time they met, her long light brown hair held tight by a scrunchie falling well behind her shoulders, her muscular legs literally owning that pair of yoga pants, her modest v-neck sweater showing just enough cleavage to pique his interest.

That was in February. Standing before him now, dressed in that black satin robe she was the epitome of seduction for him. Her stunning natural beauty, broad smile, and air of vulnerability as her arms hung by her side melted his heart. He smiled and said “god... even more beautiful than I imagined.”

He took the five short steps from the door to the bed, stood before her and ran a finger through her hair. She reciprocated by stroking his beard. They continued the slow, sensual exploration of each other’s face. As they moved their hands down to their arms the satin fabric accentuated the sensuality of their exploration. His hand rose, lifted her chin while leaning in, then lightly touched his lips to hers. Their arms wrapped around each other, pressing satin against satin and satin against flesh. The feeling was mesmerizing and neither wanted this moment to end.

They separated. She looked into his eyes while reaching for the belt of his robe, gently releasing the knot, and allowing the robe to open. She brought her hands up slowly over his stomach and chest, allowing them to fan out at his shoulders and release the robe from his upper body, once he lowered his arms the robe fell in a heap behind him.

There he stood in only his black satin boxers, his large, hard cock threatening to rip them open. She looked at him, smiled, reached down and gently rubbed his cock through the satin boxers. He moaned softly and brought his hands up to her breasts, caressing the outside part through her robe and flicking her nipples with his thumbs. She breathed deeply at his sensual touch, closed her eyes, threw her head back slightly and let out a gentle moan: “mmmmmm....” all the while stroking his cock through his boxers.

Regaining her composure she opened her eyes, smiled broadly and slowly sank to her knees. Releasing his cock, she placed her thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and looked up at him, smiling. He returned her gaze and softly moaned “yes, baby, yes...” She applied pressure to her thumbs and ever-so-slowly slid the satin boxers to the floor, bunching around his ankles. She ran her hands back up his legs and encircled his cock with her thumb and forefinger. A drop of pre-cum oozed out, she licked it off with her tongue then took him in her mouth, just the tip at first then slowly worked her way down his shaft. His moan spoke volumes as to her talent at pleasuring a man, enjoying every bob of her head, every slurping sound she made, and every bit of saliva that dropped from her mouth. Most of all, he enjoyed every loving gaze from her beautiful eyes. He knew he wasn’t going to cum, she knew it as well. There would be plenty of rapturous orgasms in the hours ahead, but now, he needed to strip her as she stripped him - it was all part of the plan.

He put his hand under her chin, stopping her head bobbing action. “Stand-up” he said, softly. He ran his hands up and down the sides of her black satin robe, then roamed to her barely covered ass, smoothing the fabric against her soft skin. She could feel her nipples digging into his chest as he kneaded her ass cheeks, her pussy sopping wet as his cock ground up against her clit through her robe and panties. He reached down to the belt of her robe, undid the knot, opened the robe, slid his hands up to her shoulders and took the robe off completely in one motion. Both of them caught their breath realizing this script would be played out again tomorrow, with the robe removal signaling something quite different than it does now.

She stood there, trembling slightly. Her black bikini panties the only thing between her and complete nudity. He stepped back a moment to admire her beauty. With her robe removed her breasts were on full display: perfect globes of flesh centered by dark areolae with nipples erect, the size of pencil erasers. Her stomach was smooth and taut, not quite six-pack abs but close: he could barely wait to kiss her tummy all along her bikini line! Her legs looked like those of a dancer: solid, yet completely feminine and sexy, even without heels. Her makeup was done to perfection: subtle enough to just accentuate her natural beauty. At this moment she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

He knelt on one knee in front of her and lightly touched both ankles with just his fingertips, simultaneously leaning forward and running his tongue around her bellybutton. Ever so slowly his tongue drifted downward while his hands moved up to stroking her calves. As his hands found the back of her legs his tongue found her bikini line, slowly drinking her in from one hip to the next, he lingered there for quite some time. She was busy running her hands through his hair, breathing harder with her head thrown back and eyes closed.

She stiffened as if struck by a bolt of lightning and softly moaned as his hands found her ass while his tongue found her clit beneath the satin panties. Their passion was igniting, their movements became more pronounced, the intensity of the moment began taking over. He could feel her body trembling as she knew what was about to come. His thumbs found the waistband of her panties and hooked inside, lingering there for a moment that felt like an eternity to both of them. He looked up at her, she looked down at him: “yessssss....” she moaned, parting her legs just a bit more. He began to tug the satin fabric down slowly and deliberately, hearing them ‘pop’ off her ass while the delicate triangle of fabric lowered to reveal her sex.

With her panties deliciously stopped at mid-thigh he leaned in, admiring her cleanly shaven mons and her slick opening, just beginning to oooze its lubricating juice. The folds of her labia glistened before him, beckoning his tongue inside. A few swishes with his tongue elicited a loud moan from her: “Ohhhh Godddddddd...!” He lowered her panties to her calves while aggressively tonguing her clit. She drew in a deep breath moaning “Yesssssss......! Oh God Yessssssss.”

Never in her life had she been pleasured like this, or even made to feel like this as a woman. Though she was sexually active most of her lovers were unaware a female orgasm existed, let alone try to make her cum. He had done more to please her in the last five minutes than all her previous lovers combined.

She looked down at his actions on her burning pussy, he looked up at the woman he had set on fire. Their eyes locked on each other’s, each aware of the significance of the next moment. “Do it” she whispered, unable to hold back the onrushing orgasm that was about to envelop her. With that, he finished taking off her panties, helping her step out of them bunched up on the floor, leaving her completely naked, vulnerable, and exposed.

With that act she “officially” gave up control of her body, just as she was contemplating doing so tomorrow, albeit for a different reason... He now took complete control of her body, just as he feared he might have to do so tomorrow, albeit for a different reason...

What followed for the next few hours was raucous, passionate, joyful, and uninhibited love making. She experienced release, after release, after release, as his cock plundered every orifice multiple times, depositing his seed all over and inside her body. It was the most exhilarating life-affirming act he could give her before she made the final decision on her crucifixion. They were united as one now, he hoped it would last beyond tomorrow afternoon...
 
Blue said:
The Seventeen Moments of He and She
Moment Five - Surrender

He went to the dresser and got the attire they chose for their official joining: matching black satin robes for each with black satin bikini panties for her and black satin boxers for him. While she was in the shower, he carefully made the bed with fresh sheets, leaving her outfit on top of it. He took his outfit and waited in the living room for his turn in the shower.

She walked out the bathroom with one towel wrapped around her body and another covering her hair: “all yours” she said in a cheery voice, the weed obviously lingering in her blood stream. She entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She turned around to face the bed and saw her outfit painstakingly laid out for her. She gasped slightly, catching her breath at the sight, momentarily reminded of the purpose of her time here. She quickly cast those thoughts aside (the weed helped) and focused on making herself feel beautiful for him, and for herself.

She could hear him in the bathroom, getting himself ready to be with her. She allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to do this on an ordinary night, to primp herself for him before sharing a night on the town, or, perhaps, an evening with friends. Looking at her now-naked body in the mirror, hair neatly resting on her shoulders and makeup tastefully applied, she imagined herself at his side, facing life’s journey together: sharing the many moments, some grand, some not-so-grand, and some downright banal that, in sum, defined a lifetime.

Up until this moment, anytime she saw her naked reflection she could only imagine herself crucified, writhing, struggling for breath in utter agony and unmatched suffering. Paying the ultimate price for her horrible sin.

This old image conflicted with the new image she was embracing in this moment; the image of becoming his lover. Slowly but surely a raging battle was brewing in her subconscious between these self-images, she paid it no mind now, there was plenty of time to do that later.

She clutched the golden cross around her neck and walked towards the bed. She put the robe on first, enjoying the smooth and sensual feel of the fine material caressing her soft skin. She reached for the panties and slipped in one foot, then the next, and slowly slid them up her legs, the friction of the fabric against her thighs felt sooooo good! She stood up, secured the panties in place, and sat back on the bed, tying the belt of her robe so it closed snug around her waist. She sat on the edge of the bed in anticipation of his knock, it came less than a minute after she sat down.

“OK for me to come in. Are you ready?” She heard him say.

“Yes, I’m ready.” She stood up facing the doorway, hands at her sides.

Slowly, the door opened, and he carefully stepped into the bedroom. For the first time since they met, she looked at him as a sexual being; and she liked what she saw! His broad shoulders and chest filled out the robe nicely while toned, muscular legs supported that chest. His brown hair was relatively short, fitting his face well. His eyes had a penetrating quality, yet they also had a softness that made him easy to talk to, as she had already discovered while planning her crucifixion. The salt-and-pepper beard was the only hint as to his actual age.

He looked at her with new eyes as well. He thought she was beautiful the first time they met, her long light brown hair held tight by a scrunchie falling well behind her shoulders, her muscular legs literally owning that pair of yoga pants, her modest v-neck sweater showing just enough cleavage to pique his interest.

That was in February. Standing before him now, dressed in that black satin robe she was the epitome of seduction for him. Her stunning natural beauty, broad smile, and air of vulnerability as her arms hung by her side melted his heart. He smiled and said “god... even more beautiful than I imagined.”

He took the five short steps from the door to the bed, stood before her and ran a finger through her hair. She reciprocated by stroking his beard. They continued the slow, sensual exploration of each other’s face. As they moved their hands down to their arms the satin fabric accentuated the sensuality of their exploration. His hand rose, lifted her chin while leaning in, then lightly touched his lips to hers. Their arms wrapped around each other, pressing satin against satin and satin against flesh. The feeling was mesmerizing and neither wanted this moment to end.

They separated. She looked into his eyes while reaching for the belt of his robe, gently releasing the knot, and allowing the robe to open. She brought her hands up slowly over his stomach and chest, allowing them to fan out at his shoulders and release the robe from his upper body, once he lowered his arms the robe fell in a heap behind him.

There he stood in only his black satin boxers, his large, hard cock threatening to rip them open. She looked at him, smiled, reached down and gently rubbed his cock through the satin boxers. He moaned softly and brought his hands up to her breasts, caressing the outside part through her robe and flicking her nipples with his thumbs. She breathed deeply at his sensual touch, closed her eyes, threw her head back slightly and let out a gentle moan: “mmmmmm....” all the while stroking his cock through his boxers.

Regaining her composure she opened her eyes, smiled broadly and slowly sank to her knees. Releasing his cock, she placed her thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and looked up at him, smiling. He returned her gaze and softly moaned “yes, baby, yes...” She applied pressure to her thumbs and ever-so-slowly slid the satin boxers to the floor, bunching around his ankles. She ran her hands back up his legs and encircled his cock with her thumb and forefinger. A drop of pre-cum oozed out, she licked it off with her tongue then took him in her mouth, just the tip at first then slowly worked her way down his shaft. His moan spoke volumes as to her talent at pleasuring a man, enjoying every bob of her head, every slurping sound she made, and every bit of saliva that dropped from her mouth. Most of all, he enjoyed every loving gaze from her beautiful eyes. He knew he wasn’t going to cum, she knew it as well. There would be plenty of rapturous orgasms in the hours ahead, but now, he needed to strip her as she stripped him - it was all part of the plan.

He put his hand under her chin, stopping her head bobbing action. “Stand-up” he said, softly. He ran his hands up and down the sides of her black satin robe, then roamed to her barely covered ass, smoothing the fabric against her soft skin. She could feel her nipples digging into his chest as he kneaded her ass cheeks, her pussy sopping wet as his cock ground up against her clit through her robe and panties. He reached down to the belt of her robe, undid the knot, opened the robe, slid his hands up to her shoulders and took the robe off completely in one motion. Both of them caught their breath realizing this script would be played out again tomorrow, with the robe removal signaling something quite different than it does now.

She stood there, trembling slightly. Her black bikini panties the only thing between her and complete nudity. He stepped back a moment to admire her beauty. With her robe removed her breasts were on full display: perfect globes of flesh centered by dark areolae with nipples erect, the size of pencil erasers. Her stomach was smooth and taut, not quite six-pack abs but close: he could barely wait to kiss her tummy all along her bikini line! Her legs looked like those of a dancer: solid, yet completely feminine and sexy, even without heels. Her makeup was done to perfection: subtle enough to just accentuate her natural beauty. At this moment she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

He knelt on one knee in front of her and lightly touched both ankles with just his fingertips, simultaneously leaning forward and running his tongue around her bellybutton. Ever so slowly his tongue drifted downward while his hands moved up to stroking her calves. As his hands found the back of her legs his tongue found her bikini line, slowly drinking her in from one hip to the next, he lingered there for quite some time. She was busy running her hands through his hair, breathing harder with her head thrown back and eyes closed.

She stiffened as if struck by a bolt of lightning and softly moaned as his hands found her ass while his tongue found her clit beneath the satin panties. Their passion was igniting, their movements became more pronounced, the intensity of the moment began taking over. He could feel her body trembling as she knew what was about to come. His thumbs found the waistband of her panties and hooked inside, lingering there for a moment that felt like an eternity to both of them. He looked up at her, she looked down at him: “yessssss....” she moaned, parting her legs just a bit more. He began to tug the satin fabric down slowly and deliberately, hearing them ‘pop’ off her ass while the delicate triangle of fabric lowered to reveal her sex.

With her panties deliciously stopped at mid-thigh he leaned in, admiring her cleanly shaven mons and her slick opening, just beginning to oooze its lubricating juice. The folds of her labia glistened before him, beckoning his tongue inside. A few swishes with his tongue elicited a loud moan from her: “Ohhhh Godddddddd...!” He lowered her panties to her calves while aggressively tonguing her clit. She drew in a deep breath moaning “Yesssssss......! Oh God Yessssssss.”

Never in her life had she been pleasured like this, or even made to feel like this as a woman. Though she was sexually active most of her lovers were unaware a female orgasm existed, let alone try to make her cum. He had done more to please her in the last five minutes than all her previous lovers combined.

She looked down at his actions on her burning pussy, he looked up at the woman he had set on fire. Their eyes locked on each other’s, each aware of the significance of the next moment. “Do it” she whispered, unable to hold back the onrushing orgasm that was about to envelop her. With that, he finished taking off her panties, helping her step out of them bunched up on the floor, leaving her completely naked, vulnerable, and exposed.

With that act she “officially” gave up control of her body, just as she was contemplating doing so tomorrow, albeit for a different reason... He now took complete control of her body, just as he feared he might have to do so tomorrow, albeit for a different reason...

What followed for the next few hours was raucous, passionate, joyful, and uninhibited love making. She experienced release, after release, after release, as his cock plundered every orifice multiple times, depositing his seed all over and inside her body. It was the most exhilarating life-affirming act he could give her before she made the final decision on her crucifixion. They were united as one now, he hoped it would last beyond tomorrow afternoon...
Click to expand...
I just cannot see anyway the crucifixion is going to happen. They couldn't have found a better match than one another if they had both registered on cruxton-courting.com! Love already definitely in the air!
 
The Seventeen Moments of He and She
Moment Six - She Chooses

She was woken up by a soft knock on the door. He opened it slowly and simply said “Hi, it’s 7:00. You have one hour.” The door closed. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, glad the sedative did its trick, she felt rested but not drugged. “One hour...” she thought to herself. “One hour to prepare myself for the biggest moment of my life: decide to go through with my crucifixion as planned or one hour to change my mind and accept my past, just as he suggested; to go on living and make my future actions my legacy to God.” His words were beginning to make sense and penetrate that armor of conviction she had built up for so long.

She rose from the bed, stretched, and headed towards the bathroom. The sun was already rising and beginning to send slivers of light through the open window. She looked back at the bed and thought of him last night... that bed was a temple of passion last night, the place where their lovemaking was as spiritual as it was sensual and ecstatic. Is he right? Is she being foolish to end her life when in some ways it was just now beginning?

She slowly washed up, brushed her teeth, and left her hair hang down her back past her shoulders, just as they had planned. While she was in the bathroom, he fulfilled his task of laying out her attire for her potential sacrifice: a white silk robe and white satin bikini panties, exactly what she wore last night but in white to symbolize her upcoming purification and forgiveness of sin. She gasped when she saw them laid out on the freshly made bed, he was doing everything he promised despite his reservations.

She clutched the golden cross around her neck and walked towards the bed. She put the robe on first, enjoying the smooth and sensual feel of the fine material caressing her soft skin. She reached for the panties and slipped in one foot, then the next, and slowly slid them up her legs, the friction of the fabric against her thighs felt sooooo good! She stood up, secured the panties in place and sat back on the bed, loosely tying the belt of her robe so it closed around her waist. She began to pray, waiting for him to come get her.

Time seemed to stand still, each moment an eternity unto itself. Thoughts raced in and out of her humming mind, but her praying was strong enough to overcome the distractions. Suddenly, another knock on the door: “Hi, it’s time. I will be waiting outside.” She rose, knowing the moment had come to decide between life and death.

Her heart was racing, and her head was swimming with emotions as she walked out of the bedroom and approached the door to the outside. She checked the belt on her robe one last time; it was still tied in a loose knot, just as they had planned.

They had worked on, and rehearsed, the details of the scene of her decision several times over the past two weeks: he would call her by the ignominious name “prisoner,” ask her to confess her sin, then ask if she wanted to atone for her sin by being crucified immediately. If she did nothing but stand there for one minute they would go back inside, have breakfast together and she would live her life to its natural conclusion. However, if she undid the knot and let the robe fall open, she was, essentially, dead at that moment and there would be no turning back from then on, no matter how much she begged and pleaded for her punishment to stop.

She drew a deep breath and looked around the cottage, surveying the scene. He had optimistically set up breakfast in the kitchen, she could see the steam rising from two cups of coffee and the smell of bacon waiting to be cooked wafted in the air. A faint smile crossed her lips, he really did care for her! She watched as her trembling hand, seemingly moving of its own volition, turned the doorknob and opened the door. There he was, standing tall, with a gravely serious look on his face. He looked like he was going for a morning jog; dressed in running shorts, sneakers, and a tight-fitting tee shirt. He knew if she chose crucifixion he would have a long day in front of him and he needed to be comfortable to carry out the rigors of his task. Standing with his hands clasped in front, he was holding a length of rope to tie her hands behind her if she wanted to proceed, and a stopwatch. She stepped outside and stood before him, separated by about five feet.

“God, she’s so, sooooo beautiful” he thought to himself; and she was beautiful! Her face always had a natural beauty to it, the intensity of the moment only accentuated her beauty. Her hair was neatly brushed: did he notice a slight bit of eyeliner? That was a good sign, he thought to himself, hopefully…

Standing there in her white satin robe she appeared as a golden goddess; her body was toned, tanned and trim. He loved exploring every nook and cranny last night and desperately hoped he would do so again today, and every day afterwards... She was barefoot, as they agreed, and her golden crucifix was on top of her robe.

He began, just as they had rehearsed: “Prisoner, your moment of atonement has arrived. Please confess the sin for which you wish to atone.” She began talking and he listened with rapt attention, she had never before told him exactly what was behind all this need for atonement other than saying her faith required it. Their eyes were locked on each other: the tension in the air seemed to grow exponentially with each word.

She finished her confession. He continued, his voice cracking out of sheer nervousness: “Prisoner, are you ready to atone for the sin you just described by being crucified immediately?”

There it was, out in the open... Years of speculation and imagination on her part and months of intense planning and deeply conflicted emotions on his part. The moment had arrived. The intensity of the moment was almost too much to bear for each of them. Their eyes still locked but tears began to form in each of them. He clicked the stopwatch: sixty audible ticks between life and death... she closed her eyes and placed both hands on the golden crucifix around her neck, fidgeting it with her fingers while subtly reciting The Lord’s Prayer. He watched her every movement and counted inside his head: ten, twenty, thirty, thirty-five, forty - she continued fidgeting the crucifix - forty-five, fifty... at fifty-five her hands came off the crucifix and her arms fell to her sides, her thumbs catching the belt and tugging it off allowing the robe to open and reveal her white panties. She was officially dead now, all that was left was to take the life from her body on the cross one agonizing moment to the next...
 
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