Once in every lifetime,
Comes a love like this…

You know you have a true, lasting connection to someone when you bump into them after a period apart and it immediately feels like it was only yesterday when you were last with them. That easy flowing conversation. Familiar touching if your relationship is intimate in nature, the automatic respect for personal space if it isn’t.

Some believe that those people are our soulmates.

I know they are.

That’s the way it’s always been for Thomas and me. Even though we haven’t seen each other for many years, I know as soon as I spot him walking down Main Street that it’s him. The swagger. The curled lip. And the almost tick-like drag of a right hand through shaggy hair that betrays the fragility that his armour of arrogance is intended to conceal.

As I always do when I spot him before he spots me, I leave a few metres between us. I fall into line, match my steps with his and walk silently, waiting for him to notice me. Main Street is busy, but I still hear his gasp when he realises I’m here. Not audibly, of course. No, I see the swift rise of his chest from the corner of my eye and my memory provides the audio.

Thomas doesn’t approach me. He just stuffs his hands in his pockets and falls in behind me, quickening his pace as I quicken mine. We walk the half a mile to my house as if we’re strangers, but we so aren’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone better than I know him. I don’t think I ever will.

Neither of us speaks when the door closes behind us. There’s just a tangle of limbs. Ragged breathing. Hair pulling, throat biting, tugging on fabric and buttons and laces until we’re both standing naked just inside my glass panelled front door.

Things are very different this time. Thomas isn’t a smoker now, but he does eat meat these days. I can taste ketchup and mustard and pickles on his tongue. He bites harder now. Digs his nails in harder, and he’s so much more vocal than he was. That’s the part that always surprises me; the changes in how he sounds.

I feel his cock batting against mine and the sensation is so familiar to me I choke out a sob. I step closer, one hand buried in Thom’s hair and my face buried in his neck as I squeeze my eyes closed and listen to him moan when he takes both of our dicks in his big hand and crushes them together.

“I missed this,” he rasps into my ear.

I nod, so overwhelmed I’m unable to respond any other way.

“I missed your dick, Sam. I missed your ass. I missed you.”

Still nodding, I shove my tongue back into his mouth. I drag my nails over his broad shoulders, down his chest. He growls when I scratch his nipples and uses the force of his kiss to bring me to my knees.

As always, there is no hesitation. His dick tastes just as good as I remember. Feels just as good. It invades my mouth, makes my jaw ache. This could be the biggest it’s ever been and the thought of what he could do with it makes me weep.

He has my hair in his fist. Holding my head back, slapping me with his free hand so that I look up at him. He’s watching himself trace his cock over my lips and teeth. Easing it past them, blinking rapidly when I flatten my tongue and stroke the underside. Damn, he’s so hard, and that’s so fucking hot.

“Suck me,” he whispers. Yanking my hand away from his balls, he shoves it between his thighs. “Stick a finger up my ass while you suck me.”

I do as he says. I always do as he says.

“Look at you, Sammy.” He’s crooning now, stroking my stubbly cheeks, eyes so wide you’d think he’d never seen me with a shadow before. He has, of course, just not for a long, long time.

Just as I think my sucking and fingering has him on the brink he pulls away. I don’t know if he moves me or if I move myself, but suddenly I’m on my knees with my hands on the front door.

God, I’m shaking. I’m watching the old lady from across the street toddle past my garden gate with her poodle on a leash and I’m shaking. Do I care if she sees us? No. No, I don’t give a damn because this is the part I always dream about. The part when our bodies join for the first time in a lifetime and we become everything we have been and everything we will be, all at once.

I feel the pressure of his cock against my ass. My sweaty palm squeaks on the glass. A spit, a sting, and then I’m every me there ever was.

Thomas growls, “Take that dick!” and I’m Linda, bent over a desk with my trousers down and a clipboard cutting into my palm.

He smacks my ass to get me moving, crying out, “Fuck it just like that, you sexy sonofabitch!” and I’m Mary, stood in a pantry with my skirts around my waist and a hand over my mouth so the cook can’t hear me panting the master’s name.

He fucks harder and I’m Minnie, harder still and I’m Gertrude.

And then when Thomas comes, jerking against me, inside me, reaching around to grab my cock, I’m Samuel.

The Samuel who came across a man fishing by a river and fell to his knees in lust. In love. The Samuel who risked everything he had to be with the person who, with just a few soft words, became his north. Every time I turn eighteen I’m drawn to him and as soon as he sees me, he knows me, no matter what body I’m in. The Samuel who Thomas has been waiting for.

Tension explodes from the tip of my cock and, once again, I’m me. The happiest me I’ve been in centuries because finally, for the first time in half a dozen lifetimes, I’ve come back as a man.

Thomas is kissing me, pulling me into his arms, telling me he loves me and laughing at himself for putting his hand in the puddle I’ve made on the floor. My heart stalls. That laugh still means as much to me today as it did then. For three hundred years I’ve lived and died for this man, and I’m ready to do it all over again. Because only once in every lifetime, comes a love like this.

Prompt #300 – 300

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *