Devin’s devotion: “We are locked together, locked like the links of that chain.”

The Unfallen, a novel of love and indomitability, available at Amazon.com.

The Unfallen, a novel of love and indomitability, available at Amazon.com.

Loki’s Love Letters are prime choice LadyPorn for this reason: I am writing a man’s kind of love-making from a man’s point of view – while tickling every fancy that makes lady-boners go “SPROING!!” I’m doing this for didactic purposes, but aroused is aroused, and I’ve got the potion that instigates motion.

I learned to write that kind of erotica for The Unfallen – which is free in Kindle form until tomorrow. What I wanted was a sex that was masculine and immaculate – like the kind real married people really have – a love-making that would be enthralling to both men and women, each for their own reasons.

Clipped below is one example, an email from Devin Dwyer to his blonde goddess, Gwendolyn Jones:

Date: Sun, 07 Dec 1997 22:27:33 -0500
To: gpjones@bostonglobe.com
From: drdevin@ptolemy.mit.edu
Subject: The chain

I promised to tell you my full reasons for buying you that chain. The truth is I hate chains. They symbolize for me everything that is loathsome in human relationships; they symbolize slavery. But from the very beginning I have wanted to bind myself to you completely--me to you, not you to me--and the chain is my way of expressing that desire. It is the means by which I seek to be locked inside your life forever. I recognize fully the implications of the things I'm saying, and that's why I'm going to such lengths to say these particular things. I want nothing to be hidden from you, Gwen, I want nothing held in reserve, I want for there to be nothing that I can take back later with a sleight of hand or a sleight of mind. Regardless of what you do, this is what I am doing.

I have things to watch for with you, which is a good reason to be glad to have you when I'm old enough to know how to treasure you. In our box of family photos there are gradually fewer and fewer photos of me. I understand that as a cue now: If the frequency with which your spouse seeks to preserve your likeness is in decline, your marriage is in trouble. I can think of a hundred dozen other little things like that, things I should have noticed but didn't, but I wish now to know better. I want it to be forever with you. You don't have to promise anything to me, because I know you'll never let me have what I haven't earned. I intend to earn everything, and I intend to keep it forever. It's important to me to be scrupulous for my own part, to _never_ let things slide, to _never_ default on you. She Done Me Wrong, but I am not without culpability and I don't want to do anything like that with you.

I never make promises I don't intend to keep, and I never issue words I don't intend to be held to. I am issuing these words now so that you'll have them, should you ever need to rub my nose in them.

I intend to deserve you. And I intend to keep you. And I know I will keep you only by _continuing_ to deserve you. I hope never to disappoint you, never to let you down. But I will damn myself now, in advance, on this page, if I should ever give you hurt from malice, from inattention, from laziness or from contempt. I live to worship my life, and I make me this oath: Any failure of mine, now and forever, to fully earn and deserve your unbounded devotion, I must regard as an act of self-destruction. You are so much a part of me _now_ that to slash and claw at you is to slash and claw at my own face, my own heart. I'm going to put these words where I can see them all the time, because if I forget myself I will lose you. And if I lose you, a part of me, the best part of me, will die forever.

I don't need you to tell me that this is what you've been grailing for for half a lifetime. I don't need you to tell me because I have, too. You'll have it from me. I'll have it from you. We'll have it together. We'll have it forever.

This is a way I want to make love with you, my darling one. This probably can't be the first time, any particular time. This is a love without urgency. This is a love without end.

I think this happens during the day, although it doesn't have to. I like making love in the day. I like to see everything, especially when my eyes are closed and clenched. What's happened is that we've coupled, feverishly, and the worst of our desires are sated. We've held each other and kissed and cuddled and caressed and murmured and the sweat has dried from our skin and the words have grown thick on our tongues.

It's then that I'll lead you by the hand to the shower. Another day you can cherish me, but today is my day to worship you, to have you, so just scrub me down fast and turn me loose. I want to bathe every part of you in the shower of the love I feel for you, treasure every bit of you in detail. I want to wash your hair. You have no idea how your hair thrills me. I want to lather it and dig my fingers deep into your scalp and comb them back through your tresses again and again. I'll rinse you clean of soap, running the water back from your raised forehead. Then I'll guide the flow to your breastbone and pull in close behind you. My hands flat and hungry, I'll sleek the water down the front of you, from your breasts to you belly to your hips to your thighs. Again and again I'll push the sheets of water down your skin to feel the heat of the water against the greater heat of you. I know you can feel me behind you, I know there's no possible doubt you can feel me behind you.

When I've all but driven myself insane, I'll step out and dry myself off, letting you bask in the warmth of the water. When I'm ready for you, I'll take a thick, rich towel and buff your body dry from the tip of your nose to the tips of your toes. I'll dry your hair, as much as I can with a towel, then wrap your body in a thick white shower robe. I have a heavy comb with wide-spaced teeth that I bought just for your hair, just because I know it will look lovely combed out straight in thick, wet clusters.

I'll lead you back to the bedroom, and this is how I will have you. I'll sit on the side of the bed, my feet on the floor. You will stand before me and I'll untie that robe and open it, delivering the feast of your glory to my hungry eyes. Don't shuck it off your shoulders, keep it on. You make me twice as hungry half-dressed, clothed yet naked, protected yet vulnerable to anything. I give you clothes only to take them off you, to leave them on you, to leave _me_ on you when I cannot be within you.

I'll lay back for a moment so you can climb atop me and when I sit back up I want you to wrap your legs around my back. This is the way I want you, with you in my lap, holding me tight with your arms and your legs.

Don't take me inside you, not yet. It's not time for that yet. Pull yourself in tight to me, though, and rub yourself along the length of me. I like that, I like it a lot. I like the feel of the fire burning deep within you, and I like the slickness and the scent of your desire for me. Kiss me hard, kiss me deep, kiss me from above, your mastery complete. In turn I will explore the smoothness of your skin, still a little cool and damp from the shower. I'll push the fabric of your robe aside and dig my fingers into the flesh of your behind, pressing you down hard against me, pressing myself hard against the locus of your pleasure. Ride me this way, Gwen, ride me forever.

And when you've all but driven yourself insane, pull your hips up to the tip of me and take me into your depths. Sink to me slowly so that I can feel every fold and ripple of you, every pounding of your pulse. Sink yourself to me until I am buried within you, buried to the ends of me. Hold me that way, your lips, your arms, your legs, your love, your mind, your soul, your life, your being. Clasp me tight to you in every possible way and feel me reaching, yearning, clawing to pull myself even closer, even tighter, even deeper inside you. I am hard and purple and huge for you, but I strain to be larger still, just to be more conjoined to you. Hold me tight and don't move for a moment, just feel me pulsing, pulsing, pulsing in the pool of your silky heat.

Then take me, Gwen, take me as you need me. But you're trapped, aren't you? It's not so easy to move. You can throw your arms around my shoulders for leverage, but the way we are locked together forces you to move slowly, deliberately. And that's the way I want you. I want to be locked inside you forever, and this is a way of doing that. I just want to drive, drive, drive and I don't care if I _ever_ arrive. Hugging forever is wonderful because it has no clear-cut terminus. Kissing forever is wonderful because there is no physiological alarm screaming, "We're finished now!" I want to have you forever in endless hugging, endless kissing, endless writhing, and I want not to be interrupted or denied or inhibited by some great heaving calamitous orgasm. Not yet, anyway.

What I want is to love you. I want to express my love for you in every way I can, in every way I have. With my whispered words. With my searing tongue. With my teeth and with my hands and with my skin, so burning hot. I want to express my love for you with my _mind._ And I want my mind's best expression of my love for you to be my aching hardness buried so deep within you. Not agape. Not eros. Both. Not soul. Not body. Both. Worship and lust, paired. Devotion and longing, paired. Hunger and feasting, paired. You and I, paired, expressing emotional love physically and physical love emotionally and the two together, always together, always paired. Always the same one thing, always nothing if the one is without the other. _This_ is what I want. I join my body to yours to express how deeply I yearn to join my mind, my soul, my life, my being to yours.

And this way of making love is the best way of expressing that. We are _locked_ together, locked like the links of that chain. Your legs locked around me bind me to you and the hasp of my hungering binds you to me and we are locked together in a slow, seething dance of passion, a dance I want _never_ to end. This is the way I want you, Gwen, this is the way I want you forever.

But you hunger and I hunger and you ache and I ache and you writhe and writhe and writhe and your reaching, grasping, clawing, gnawing makes me hunger and ache and writhe within you. I want never to finish but I must, I must, I must. And I can tell by your breathing, by the breaths you are too busy to take, that you must, you must, you must finish with me. So now, at last, I'll help you.

I clasp my hands at your hips and now you are mine to do with as I please. Did you have complete mastery before? Now you are completely mastered--except that I am so completely slayed by your mastery of me. But now I can pull you down hard against me, pull you down, down, down, until I am buried to the depths within you, until your pubic bone is grinding tight against my own. This is the way I will take you now, hard thrusts covering tiny fractions of an inch. I want you hard against me, hard against me, hard against me, but I want you never away from me, never so far away that I can't feel every hair of you. I'll grind myself against you, pushing deeper and deeper within you and I'll know I've found the full and final depth of you when I hear your breath catch and tear in a whimper and when I feel the waves of ecstasy pulsing, pulsing, pulsing all down the length of you.

That's when I'll release myself, that's when my ecstasy will pair itself to yours. I'll feel you pulsing, pulsing, pulsing and you'll feel me pulsing, pulsing, pulsing, pumping you full of my seed. I'll pull you tighter and tighter and tighter to me and you'll know by my own whimpering how much you've given me, how much you've taken from me, how much you've given me.

Don't stop. Don't move. Don't you dare go _anywhere._ Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me a hundred dozen everywheres, kiss the drops of sweat on my forehead, catch them on your tongue as they roll down my cheek. Hold me, hold me, hold me--hold me with every inch of your skin. Keep your legs locked around me and your arms locked around me and keep your soul locked together with mine. Just because we've finished, it doesn't mean anything has to end. I want this never to end. Keep me inside you even as I grow small and weak, even as the paired nectars of our loving drain out of you and trickle down along my groin. Keep me locked inside you until I grow hard again. Our driving, driving, driving may have to be punctuated by stops, but I want for it never to end. Keep me locked inside you--for my mind, my soul, my life, my being are locked inside yours.

Keep me locked inside you forever...

Devin

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