The Kiss [fm]

I have never truly believed in the concept of a soul. In today’s modern age and the advancement of medicine, the soul seemed to be easily explainable by the chemical and electrical reactions of the brain. Something that died when the brain fired for the last time. The soul to me was thus a relic to an older time; when fire, air, water, and earth were the only known elements. It has purpose for poetry, but not much else. So, I never believed in the soul or that I had one; that is, until the day I had a piece of my soul ripped away from me, stolen. Thus I finally realized just how damned wrong I had been all that time before.

From that moment on, I have been fully aware of just how much the soul is a separate part of my being. Fully aware of it because the hole that is missing from my soul now is so profound. It is like losing a tooth. You know what it felt like when you had the tooth, but the hole that is now there is a constant reminder of what has been lost and slowly over time, you start to forget what it was like before the hole ever formed. The soul is a real thing, if nothing else, heed this as fact! It transcends mere reactions in the brain. I now know it will survive when the rest of me becomes worm food. I know because if I were to die this very moment, the hole that is in my soul would still haunt me post mortem.

Since the day after that piece of my soul had been stolen, I have been hunting the thief, the woman that took it. I have chased her for weeks and have spent a small fortune in my pursuit. The closer that I have gotten to her, the louder my missing piece of soul screamed for me, to me; reminding me what I lack without it. I have chased her for weeks and now I am on the verge of confronting her again. All I have to do is walk through the door standing before me.

I have been staring at the door for well over 30 minutes because I have no idea how I am going to get my missing piece back from her. I deeply fear what it will take to do so, if it is even possible to do so and the eternal madness that awaits me if it is not. Yet, I know if I do not try, I will be damned, where even death will not bring me solace. I could go to heaven and it would still feel like hell without that piece of my soul returned. Over the last month, I have felt the rest of my soul slowly unravel, because that missing piece is an important interlocking piece. It is a hole that cannot be filled simply with a few new experiences. I have to get that piece of my soul back from her. I have no idea how to do it, all I know is the first step is to walk through the door.

I open it and walk in, the heavy door slowly hisses before it pounds closed. I stand in the crowded bar and spot her right away. She is a beacon to me or perhaps my missing piece is the beacon. My eyes land on her almost before I see anything or anyone else. Her back is to me, but it is her, of that I have no doubt.

She pauses in her conversation with the well-groomed man she is currently ensnaring. I notice her fluid body stiffen ever so slightly. As if it is clutching onto my piece of soul that is trying to squirm away from her. She turns her head, her mane of hair swaying in that motion, and she notices me with dark eyes that could puncture titanium.

She smiles. Smiles with both a hunger and a knowing. Starving wolves have looked less hungry. Mountaintop gurus have seemed more unwise. I curse as my body begins to react to her in much the same way as the first time our paths crossed. With an arousal and a want that I have never felt before or since her. Even knowing what she stole from me and how desperate I need it back, my body desires to slip back down the path that lead to losing that piece of my soul in the first place. It is as eager as an obedient dog waiting to be fed. It is as eager as an addict about to get his next fix, regardless of the severe cost.

The business man she is with stares at me, wondering what the hell just happened to pull her attention away from him. The daggers he stares at me are filled with venom, but they barely hurt. He will never realized I literally just saved his soul from a damnation unknown. Her attention is all mine now though, and he knows he has lost her. He turns to order another drink as she gets up and saunters toward me, catching nearly every stare of man and woman she passes. Lustful stares, envious stares, and everything in between.

“I must say you are a sight for sore eyes,“ she whispers seductively, tracing one of her crimson talons against my cheek, “I never imagined in my wildest fantasies to ever see you again!” Her light touch let me almost feel my missing piece of soul try to burrow back inside of my flesh from the contact. Simultaneously, her other hand brushing the front of my pants, knowing full well what is waiting there, without needing that piece of my soul to betray to her my deep desire that I have.

“You have something that belongs to me. I want it back,” I say it with a confidence I don’t have, but a conviction to try to act on my words.

She laughs in a rich sound, I can see a few around us swoon from hearing it. “You do? Are you sure about that?” The questions spill from her in a wanton glaze, yet there seems to be a sincere warning behind them. “Few seek me out for a second…encounter. Those that do tend to want me to finish the job completely. I do not believe anyone has ever wanted to try to take what is now mine, back. Interesting. Follow me, I have a room not too far away.”

I follow her out of the bar and down the street, without even taking pause. I follow her wary of the danger that I know she is. I follow her as I watch her hips sway, my body wanting to relive our last encounter, but not even wanting to wait to get to her room to consume her again or at least feel like I am consuming her, when it was her that truly consumed part of me.

As soon as we slip into her room, she slips out of her dress like shedding a useless skin. She walks toward the small bar in her suite and pours herself a drink. My flesh screams at me to take her again now, screams to want the bliss only she can give again. My soul weeps for its missing piece to be retrieved. My mind reaches for a balance that is impossible to find, reaches for how to even attempt to get my missing piece back. She laughs, even as she faces away from me. She laughs, even as the room fills with her scent, slowly seducing me further. Letting my body know of her own particular hungers.

She pours me a drink, I know it is for me, because I can feel her ask the piece of my soul she possesses what I like to drink in a soft caress and it answers her almost with devotion. She didn’t bother to ask me directly, because she didn’t have to. She leaves my drink at on the bar as she sways toward a winged chair. She sits on it like a queen on her throne. Her heavy breasts reminding me how softly inviting they are to touch. Her sex glistening in hungry anticipation. Her predatory smile is for both my body and the rest of my soul that she has yet to possess. The piece of me she has hasn’t screamed for me since the bar. Instead, I can feel it sigh to the pleasures of her. I can feel the echo of her soul making love to the piece she stole from me. The echo of it reverberates in my soul, making it hunger for her as much as my body does. Only the smallest whisper of me warns me of how big of a mistake this encounter is.

“So, how do you plan to get it back? Are you sure it even wants to be back inside of you? It seems quite happy just where it is and I must say, I am quite happy having it. Especially now.”

I can feel the truth of it. I can feel that piece of my soul happy, even as that reality crushes the rest of my soul. My soul’s need to being complete again feeling like an impossible task now. I truly had no idea how to get that piece back.

“Honestly, I am not sure. I just know I want it back…need it…”

Her face becomes more serious. Dammit if she doesn’t seem even more beautiful because of the act. “An honest and humble man. Knowing he thinks he has to do something, yet not so full of hubris that he believes he can just do a thing by will alone. I like that, quite a lot. Tell me, do you even know how I took it in the first place?” She cocks her head with the question, even as the rest of her body shifts in a way to try to tempt mine closer to it.

“I believe I do. But, it was not clear to me until you left me that night. I remember the kiss. At the time it felt that I was just deeply drawn to you, into you. Yet, in the aftermath of the encounter, I realized that it was during the kiss that you pull a bit of my soul inside of you…”

“Mmmmm…yes…I did draw it in then, but I didn’t take it then. I just held it, caressed it, finding the part of your soul that you wouldn’t miss, that you didn’t care about anymore. Everyone has parts of their soul they wish they could part with. I drew it in with the kiss, but didn’t take it then.”

“No, you didn’t. I am guessing it…severed during our shared climax. I have never felt a bliss deeper than that moment, I was both ecstatic and numb. I didn’t feel it gone initially because of your proximity. Once you left though…I felt the hole that was left in your wake.”

“And you’ve chased me down all of this time?”

“Yes,” I said, suddenly aware just how tired chasing her has made me.

“Fascinating. So, knowing how you lost it, do you know how to take that piece of your soul back; away from me?” She said it with a mix of compassion and sinister joy. I didn’t answer, she leaned forward in the chair, breasts swaying hypnotically, “Do you think you can just call it back and it will comfortably slip back inside of you? Do you think I will let it go so easily? I am growing quite fond of it…as I know you are aware, I can feel it sing to you its joy of being with me.”

“No I…”

She smiles, “A few lovers have hunted me down as you did. But, like I said, they wanted that emptier feeling you are feeling to end, they never even considered trying to take back what was lost. No, they were eager for me to take the rest. The one’s I cared for, I gave them that sweet mercy. The one’s I felt were not worthy for such kindness, I let them suffer by rebuking their weak demands. I am certain few of those if any are still alive. She laughed then a cruel, sexy sound, remembering.

As her laughter wanes, she continues, “So, you know you have to fuck me again to try to get that piece of your soul back, but how do you know I will not just take another piece? A larger portion?”

“I don’t,” I replied truthfully, “yet I know I cannot keep chasing you across the world as a sort of stalemate and I know the rest of my soul will forever suffer without the piece you currently have returned.”

“Does it frighten you that I will likely be the last lover you ever take?”

“Of course it does. Especially knowing the true price of the act now.”

“You are still excited to fuck me again, though, are you not?”

“I would be a liar if I said most of me wasn’t. I remember the utter joy of our last encounter. It has haunted me almost as much as my missing piece of soul has.”

She shivered at my response, almost whimpering in a climax of sorts. She stood and walked toward me. Her fingers worked my clothes off my body as if performing some art of high magic. It seemed I was naked in an instant. I was taut with just wanting to grab her and take her. It was hard to focus on the fact that I needed to try to reclaim the missing piece of me in all of this. I felt the rest of my soul press against my flesh to reach her, eager to join the piece of me she already had or perhaps eager to join with hers and leave behind the shell of my body for good.

I give in to it all in that moment, with the last resolve I have, I believe I will regain my missing piece of my soul from her, I hold her face in my hands, and kiss her deeply, drawing in her breath while she fights to draw mine in. She shoves my cock into her soaked cunt with less grace, but tremendous need. We fight and we fuck. We fuck and fight. We take turns stealing breath. I’ve never felt more alive. This made the first time we coupled seem like an appetizer. We fucked, harder and deeper…matching the struggle with the breath. It was bliss. She was bliss. We were fucking bliss…

~~~

I sit at the bar, seducing a woman that I have never met with an ease I have never known. I have the confidence that I could easily seduce any woman in this place. I seduce her even as I hunger for her as I have never hungered for a woman before. I feel her heat and want even as she tries to play it cool, believing she is in control. She is not in control. She lost control as soon as I walked into this bar. I feel all of the women around us wishing they were her. It fuels me, a drug that I could have never imagined. Before I can even word my intentions, she throws too much money on the bar to pay for our drinks, takes my hand, and leads us out the door.

We stumble into her studio apartment. The journey from the bar to her place was a blur, time that barely existed only to remind us of what we both craved. I pull her lips to mine in a kiss. It is sweet, even as I feel her hands frantically undo my pants. I taste her, even as I feel a part of her soul pull away from her. A bubble of her soul. A part that felt forgotten and neglected by her. A part that is filled with her shame and failures. It loves how my soul caresses it, how my soul appreciates it. That piece of her soul has craved attention from anyone for so long, it would have done anything for me. And it does, by channeling its current owner to give in to me.

I did reclaim that piece of my soul that was stolen from me. It was the best moment of my life. I reclaimed it and a little bit more as well. Another piece of soul that belonged to the woman, the creature, that originally stole my piece. A being that hungers for others’ souls like a drug.

This new lover takes me inside of her before I am even aware of it, I was still too wrapped up in the kiss and the feel of her soul to fully notice. Now that I am inside of her though, a new instinct takes over, mixing with the normal instinct of having sex. Instinct, and want, and the overwhelming need to give this bubble of her soul that is now almost completely inside of me, whatever pleasure and comfort I could give it. Instinct to sever it from her and forever cradle it within my own.

We rut like beasts, until she screams her climax and screams me to do the same. In the moment I give her my seed, I felt that bubble of her soul sever from her and become mine. My soul loves it leaving her to join me, loves seduces that piece of her that is now mine, loves soothing it’s aches and anguish. We both weep in bliss and in loss. She doesn’t fully realize what she has lost in all of the bliss. Perhaps she never fully will. I weep for the sudden loss of a piece of my humanity. The realization that I am slowly becoming something else. Something dark, and lovely, and wonderful. Yet something very less….human.

~~~

I enter my apartment a few hours later and I feel her, the woman, the creature, the being, that originally stole a piece of my soul, waiting for me. The piece of her soul that I inadvertently took from her when I reclaimed my own piece hums with the proximity of her, and the rest of her soul. I enter my bedroom and she is there on the bed naked and wanton, her drink in hand.

“So, how does it feel? Giving the same gift I gave to you? Freeing a person from the unwanted parts of their soul?”

“Terrible.”

“Really?”

“Really to the part of me that still matters.” The part that was still clawing for my humanity.

She laughs, my body fills with it as I undress, knowing it is futile to resist her. “I tried to warn you, that you might not want that piece of your soul back. I must say, I was impressed with how much you wanted it back. So much so that you pulled a part of me back with it. You know, I can always take what you just took from that woman…”

“No, I have to figure out how to stop wanting…how to give it back.”

“Perhaps she doesn’t want or need it back. Like I have said…”

I kiss her. I kissed her to shut her up. I kissed her because I desired it. I kissed her because my soul now hungered for broken pieces of other’s souls. I felt a bubble from her slip into me even as I feel a bubble of mine slip toward her. She breaks the kiss and laughs, not caring how this coupling ends. She mounts me and starts to ride knowing I am more trapped to her now than I ever was when I was just missing a piece of my soul.

I slip into our shared pleasures with feelings of comfortable lust with her, of wanting to be as I once was, and succumbing to what I was becoming.

She slows her grinding and looks at me with an odd seriousness, breaking the spell of our passion. She can feel what I am attempting, could feel exactly what parts of souls I was trying to slip back within her. “It will never work that way love,” she says calmly, “I like having a piece of my soul always in you now more than I dare miss it. I love having it be a part of you in fact. I love not being alone in this world anymore. I love not being the only angel of sweetest mercy anymore. I love that I now share that gift, with you. And I love that we will always be tied together most of all. A true love if there was ever such a thing. And if you truly love me, you will give me a piece of your soul back so we can always find each other, but this time, I will leave it up to you, to give it to me.”

She rides me in earnest then. I taste her lips as easily as I taste the new bubble of soul she slips into me. I feel her utter loneliness in it. I feel both the monster she believes she is, and the healer she feels she is. I feel the conflict, the pain, all of the joys of it.

In the end I feel our shared climax most of all. Not just that we shared it at the same time but I feel the echo of hers within me, and know she feels the echoes of mine the same way. I am completely unsure how much of my soul is still mine and how much she successfully left of her own. And how I am ever going to give this other piece of soul back to the other woman from earlier in the evening; or if I even still wanted to. For it seems happier surrounded by mine than it was in its own. It seems happier slowly starting to knit itself to my own.

We lie there, her on top of me. I can feel her perspiration fuse into my flesh. I can feel her heartbeat pound in counter to my own. I can feel her warm cunt still suckling on my cock, as if trying to drain every drop of me into her.

She laughs a the truest laugh she has ever shed, the deepest happiness. I know this because the part of her soul that is now forever mine hums me the truth of it. “I love you,” she whispers, and I know the truth to those words too. I have never known them more truly said by anyone, again because of the piece of her now embedded into me. It frightens me to be loved with that much depth and sincerity. But it excites me more. I feel my cock grow inside of her from its semi-ridged state. I start to buck my hips in reflex.

She has become my other half for true. In part because I willingly gave her back a piece of my soul. Not the piece she had before. Not a broken piece filled with fears and failures. But an even more cherished piece. The gift of it overwhelmed her.

We fuck as equals. We make love as mates. We exchange without hesitation, because we are more one than not now. The gift of soul I gave to her was the only way to hold on to any of my humanity, and perhaps helped make her a bit more human in the process. But, I hungered deeper now. I hungered her. And…we hungered the world filled with broken souls together, eagerly.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/dofpb5/the_kiss_fm