Occupy My Love

“Stop doing that!” I demanded brusquely.

“Stop doing what?” she replied. Innocent, curious, adorable; I hated her.

“Stop using loaded words to derail the conversation. Bourgeoise this, privelege that, class warfare, racism; all of these are valid parts of an overall discussion but you and the rest of the McLefties just toss them out when your logic begins to crumble. It is impossible to have a reasonable exchange when one half is always hijacking the thing with little grammatical grenades.”

“You deny white male privilege?” she asked. Still innocent, still curious, still adorable. Infuriating!

“Oh Jesus Fuckparts, I’ve had enough of this. I’m going to bed.” There was no way I would be able to sleep yet. My blood was at a boil. I got up and went to my tent. I stretched out on top of the sleeping bag and wished I had some pot to smoke. Not a good idea to have on you when you are occupying a public park in protest of corrupt financial institutions, but man I could have used a hit or two. I tried to think of anything I could to get the image of her stupid face out of my head. If she knew I couldn’t stop thinking about her she would probably say something like- “That is just your dominant macho need to possess me in some form, manifesting itself in unhealthy obsessive fantasies.” Male privilege, gender roles, blah blah blah.

I hear her voice just outside of my tent. “I’m sorry, Murray, I didn’t mean to upset you. Can I come in for a minute?”

I muster up enough incredulity for a searing “What?” but I can hear the tell-tale sound of the tents zipper and before I can object she is wiggling her annoyingly cute face in followed by her infuriatingly lithe and graceful body.

“Hey, I’m really sorry. I don’t understand what made you so mad but when you have had a chance to cool down I’d love to have you explain it to me.” She smiled at me like a puppy; naive, irresistible, unflappable. I tried to think of something snide and hurtful to say to make her leave me alone. I was at a loss. Shocked at myself , I realized that I wanted her to stay as badly as I had ever wanted anything else before. Disgusting. “Can I ask you just one question, and then I promise I will leave if you want me to?”

“What?” I tried to snark, but it came out in a lump.

“Why are you here, Murray? You don’t seem the civil disobedience type and you disagree with nearly everything the rest of us have to say. I don’t understand you.”

I paused to choose my words carefully and then began, “The original intention of this movement was aimed at corrupt financial institutions and policies resulting in an oligarchal collusion of banks, corporations and the federal government. Such activity is destroying our individual and collective economic future and making us its slaves in the process. The reason I am here is to send a message- ENOUGH!”

“That’s why we are all here, Murray. So why are you so at odds with everyone and everything?” It was too dark in the tent to be sure, but I could feel her stupid smile radiating its terrible, blissful warmth at me.

“Because this was supposed to be about Wall Street and banks and corruption in the political system. But you guys seem to just hate everything this country was founded upon and want to turn it into some European modeled direct socialist democracy. You have hijacked a very important social paradigm with an atrociously naive list of demands that discredit everything we could do here. I guess I knew it would be like this before I came, but I had hoped…” I stopped. What had I hoped?

“That’s okay, Murray. You don’t need to tell me anything more. You are getting all worked up again.”

If only she knew. I was glad that it was dark. This bulge in my pants was inappropriate. Maddening. I could smell her hot sweet breath as it filled the tent and covered me in a thin inescapable layer of lust and revulsion.

“Is it okay if I stay here for awhile, Murray? We can cuddle and talk about anything but politics, okay?” She asked with the confidence of someone who already knows the answer.

Cuddle? I panicked. The boner! “Chelsea…I don’t…”

She cut me off with a kiss to the forehead. “It’s okay, I don’t bite.” she teased. She pushed me back down and rested her head on my chest, that toxic erotic fume of her breath just inches from my face. “When I was a little girl I wanted to be a police officer, can you believe that?” She giggled, spraying her airy sex juju all over me. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

We talked like this for at least an hour, sometimes changing cuddle positions to stay comfortable. My erection came and went. Parts of her brushed against it a few times but she didn’t say anything or get up to leave. At some point we both fell silent laying there next to one another. I felt her hand trace my upper leg and position itself on my now semi-erect penis. The heat of her hand through the clothe brought it fully back to life. “Murray?” she asked.

“Chelsea” I squeaked back, voice breaking like a pubic idiot.

“Murray, I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me more quietly, gently and slowly than you have ever imagined. I have a condom here, I will put it on for you.”

Before I could protest (yeah, right!) she was unzipping me and then pulling the rubber carefully over my dick. Not expertly, but not clumsily either. Then I heard her own zipper and the gentle rustle of female garments being removed. “I’m going to turn away from you and I want you to fuck me while you cuddle me spoon-style. But not in my ass, Murray, I don’t like that. Okay?”

I could tell that she expected an actual answer. “Okay.” I replied a little too enthusiastically. She jutted her bottom out towards me and I could hear her fingers pulling the juices deep inside her to the entrance of her pussy, the smell of it mixing with the smell of her breath was almost too much. I was as hard as I’d ever been and afraid I’d explode any moment, and there hadn’t even been penetration yet. I sidled up next to her and felt her pull my cock from between her legs.

“Easy” she whispered as she stuck just the tip of it in. It was so warm and wet just as it had smelled and sounded. My senses began to bleed orgiastically into one another. I pushed it slowly, so slowly a full minute or two must have passed before I was all the way inside of her.

“Stay right there for awhile, don’t move.” I did as she said. I wrapped my arm around her and cupped her small breasts in my trembling hand. I kissed the side and back of her neck and nibbled gently at her ears. Eventually she used her tush to push back at my body signalling me to begin taking long slow strokes in and out of her. We went on like this for what seemed like forever. I felt her body tremble next to mine and a gush of wetness and warmth erupted between her legs. She didn’t say a word, didn’t make a sound, just used her body to suggest to me a new position every time after one of her little eruptions.

Finally she climbed on top of me and began stroking me with perfect rhythm and grace. She bent down and whispered into my ear, “This time I want you to cum with me, can you do that?” I nodded, afraid if I spoke I’d release all of the concentration that was keeping me from the manic release of the ooze-squirt. Almost imperceptibly she sped up, little by little, I could feel it building like a million stress points on a fault line about ready to blow the Richter scale. She trembled, got tighter. Tighter. Tighter.

A pinpoint of light mushrooms through my consciousness. The entirety of the universe expands and contracts in a moment. My energy, our energy, now beyond the limits of time and space. Our bodies no longer vessels for our mind but deliverers of a message beyond consciousness and physics. Slowly as I collapse back into the singular present I can hear myself begin to moan in post coital ecstasy. Her hand reaches down and covers my mouth. Every little sound carries here in tent city at night. She lays forward resting her head in between my shoulder and neck. Her warm wet vagina is still experiencing aftershocks as my penis inside it begins to detumesce.

She kisses my neck and makes tiny feminine sounds of satisfaction. After several minutes in this position she lets out itty bitty snores that tell me she is asleep. I turn her gently to the side, off from atop me, and try to make her comfortable with my spare pillow and the blanket. She is a million miles away where reality cannot touch her. There are no banks, no governments and no corporations where she is at. I lay facing her, trying to make sense of it without overthinking it. I feel alive and free. I feel positively magical and in control of my life. Some things can never be corrupted. For the first time in ages, I occupy myself.

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