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When Albert met Rachel… here’s how it all started.

Albert was restless. He had good looks, money, women, plenty of sex and still he was restless. He sat there fidgeting, thinking, “What’s the point?”

He has everything a man could wish for. Yet the longing in him wouldn’t subside. Not even hours of meditation helped. He kept asking himself, “What’s the point?”

He had his feet up, glazing out his office window at the expanse of the Mediterranean outside his window. Yes, the view was spectacular. As was his house, overlooking the sea. His office was on the lower level and because of the slope of the hill, the view was breathtaking. But at the moment, it didn’t please him. He didn’t want to be ungrateful for all his good fortune, but still he thought, “What’s the point?”

Leonard Cohen was singing in the background:

“Ah baby, let’s get married,
we’ve been alone too long.
Let’s be alone together.
Let’s see if we’re that strong.
Yeah let’s do something crazy,
something absolutely wrong
while we’re waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come. ”

“Yes,” thought Albert as the words of the song caught his attention, “that’s exactly what I’m feeling. I’m just waiting for a miracle… a miracle..”

He pressed replay so he could hear the song from the beginning..
“Baby, I’ve been waiting,
I’ve been waiting night and day.
I didn’t see the time,
I waited half my life away.
There were lots of invitations
and I know you sent me some,
but I was waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.”

He sighed and switched off the music. He didn’t have time to hear the whole song; he had to go. He was supposed to meet Stefan and his latest girlfriend for dinner at Chez Paul’s.

“What’s the point?” he thought as he left.

And that was when it happened, on that warm balmy evening in Nice. It was late August. When he got to Chez Paul’s, Stefan was already there with Rachel, the woman with those amazing green eyes and luxurious chestnut hair. And it was then – at dinner. in his boredom – that Albert decided to take advantage of the agreement he had with Stefan. That he could indulge himself with Stefan’s women when it struck his fancy… and Rachel did. So he did.

After dinner, Albert sent Stefan off on business and took Rachel back to his condominium overlooking the beach to fuck her. But he wasn’t prepared for what happened. He wasn’t prepared for Rachel, not in any way, shape or form.

As it would turn out, it was her innocence which brought him to his knees. Because even though it might have seemed that he was a powerful man, in control, something else was going on. Something he hadn’t expected. The reality was there was a softness about her, a naivety, and openness, which were far more powerful than his seemingly worldly savoir faire.

He was thunderstruck.

Was it a cruel twist of fate or poetic justice that it turned out that it was him, Albert, who was afraid of taking the plunge. That it was him – the man of so much confidence and bravado – who was afraid of leaping into the unknown.

Her wonderful, sumptuous chestnut hair framed her lovely face, but still he trembled inside, knowing it was truly she, this green-eyed beauty he hardly knew, who was leading him into uncharted waters.

It was all so unexpected, it had taken him by surprise.

But he had to admit he was the one who was awestruck, trembling on the brink. But how could it be? How could a man like Albert Giovanni end up here?

The first time he fucked her, that very night, that very first night, it had just been business as usual. The usual good fuck as he was wont to do. A fast, professional fuck where they both came hard and fast, giving satisfaction to both.  And when it was done, he thought it was done. Over. Another fast fuck with another beautiful woman, as had been his way.

He rolled over in the big, low bed and sighed.  Closed in upon himself. Self-satisfied. But then the strangest thing happened; it just did.

And he found himself, to his own great and everlasting surprise, turning slowly towards her again on that low bed of his. He was quite sure, quite positive in fact, that he was not doing the turning. It was as if the turning towards her was happening by itself. It was definitely not something he decided to do. Definitely not something he planned or even wanted… but it was happening anyway. And as it unfolded, he watched as he began to make love to Rachel again, slowly and gently this time.

‘Whatever am I doing?’ he thought, as he caressed her and heard her sigh. But things felt different when he touched her this time, he noticed; they just did. So he continued.

‘This is another kind of love-making,’ he thought.  A kind of love-making he hadn’t tasted before. Because it felt different. It just did. It felt… somehow real. Yes, real. Like heartfelt or like… well he wasn’t quite sure how it felt because it was something he’d never actually felt before. So how could he know something he’d never known before. Never tasted before… But it was happening anyway. Despite himself. Regardless of himself. Regardless. It seemed to have its own life.

‘What’s going on?’ he thought as he felt the sea air change around him. ‘What is this…’ But it was beyond his control.

It was as if a great tide from a great ocean was coming thundering in and washing over him. Bringing with it, this mysterious sea change which was sweeping through his heart.

There was no denying it.

There was a wind coming up, a great powerful wind from somewhere, from somewhere unknown and far away, from some great depth that he had within him that he’d never experienced before.

So he stopped, even though he was deep inside her, and swept back her sumptuous chestnut hair and looked into those mysterious green eyes of hers. And when he looked, he was surprised to find she was actually there. Looking back at him, meeting him there where he was, not flinching, not wavering. Just there, fully present with him, a soft smile on her lips.

‘She’s actually here with me,’ he heard the words echoing inside his head. ‘She’s actually here… present… present… ‘

That was when he knew something profound was happening between them and he felt her open and allow him to reach her depths. He was quite unprepared for how it felt. Quite stunned. It was as if the wind was rushing in his ears, making his heart tremble.  And he knew he’d been allowed to enter some sacred space, as an inexplicable unleashing of universal forces that were beyond his control took place.

 _____

 

A glimpse at Rachel and Albert from the “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” books by A. Aimee. Available on Amazon here: http://amzn.to/1ron5ee and http://amzn.to/19aUrr6

When it was finished, he knew it was done. And she knew it too. Knew she had set her mark on his soul, as surely as if it was pre-ordained.  As surely as if it was written in the stars.  And surely it was. Such was the intensity of their meeting, their coming together.

Powerful as it was, Rachel did not tremble nor flinch but met Albert fully and freely – not aghast or ashamed or shy at opening completely before his eyes, mouth, fingers, touch, taste, or entry.

“You want entry here?” she thought as he came at her, touching, tasting and she replied to his onslaught with all her heart and soul, “You want entry here? You do? Yes?… well, please come in. You want entry here? Well yes, please come in. You want…” And so she met him, opening wide mouth, heart, thighs. Opening wide pussy, heart, soul. Opening. And opening again. Wide, wider, wide.

“How can this be?” he thought as she met him, unafraid, opening, wide, wider, wide.

Soft skin, smell, touch, labia, clit, pulsing, pleasing, pleasuring.

The audacity of her.

Then lips, hair, teeth, eyes, nipples, breasts, heart, mind, body, soul… aaahhh…aaaaahhhhh…

Flying higher, falling deeper.

Gone was he in the maze of delight she spun around him, dissolving into a million, billion particles of Light. No longer knowing where he ended and she began. Nor did he care. He was beyond that now. Beyond watching from a distance, beyond keeping some part of himself uninvolved…beyond… but he no longer cared, no longer cared for his own safety or sovereignty. So powerful was the pull of her, so seductive the web she wove, so soft.

“Rachel,” he whispered, coming back to the surface, hoping, praying the world would still be there. Hoping, praying. And lo’ and behold, it was. The world was still there and so was she. Sumptuous hair and all. Green eyes, peaceful and present after following him and then leading him carefully, daringly, step by step, over the edge into that great mysterious abyss of ecstasy and delight.

Yes, she knew what to do. She knew the way. She knew the how. Yes, she did. Which is why, in the infinity of things, purity and love are the strongest.

And so her spirit whispered softly in his ear, “You want… entry, here, there and everywhere?.” She held the key.

And she knew the password too, “Yes, please come in… yes, please come in.”

_______

A glimpse at Rachel and Albert from the “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” books by A. Aimee.

By some wild, crazy, roundabout path, Albert had guided Rachel to a place where nothing but total surrender was possible.

She was no longer Rachel Somers with an identity to protect or preserve. He had freed her, as lovingly and as carefully as any man could, of whatever it was she thought she was. He had stripped her bare. Left her with nothing she could identify with, and in that strange, naked state of being no woman she knew, she found herself connected to a sexuality so powerful that it jolted her beyond her everyday reality into some awesome cosmic plane she did not recognize.

“This is not me,” she thought and tingled all over with pleasure. “This is not anyone.” And that was when he plunged headlong, headstrong, into her, finding in her a depth she did not know she possessed.

So she spread her legs wide, baring her soul and allowing him entry everywhere – allowing him anything, everything. And then, when he raised himself up above her, supporting himself with his powerful arms, looking down at her with an intensity only he possessed – she knew she would love him always.

Always.

Then for one short moment, the real Rachel Somers, the woman inside the woman inside the woman inside this body she was inhabiting, sighed softly and laughed. And though no one else in the entire universe heard her, she did. And she knew she had found a place and a peace and a platform which belonged to her alone.

And there she stood, perfectly poised. Perched, before that formidable plunge into the cosmic void when all the Light hit her.

“Oh Albert,” she heard herself whispering softly to herself, “you are the most strange and wondrous man I have ever known.” And the echo came back immediately from somewhere deep inside her, “And I am the most strange and wondrous woman I have ever known.” And it was true, so true.

Then, right before she let go and jumped, heart first and ecstatic, into the nothingness before her, she knew, once and for all, now and forever – that no matter what happened, nothing in life could ever separate her from Albert. Ever. Nothing. Not even separation itself.

So she closed her eyes and let the passion – his passion and hers – and the passion of living and  loving and of being alive all wrapped in one – finally carry her over the edge.

And as she flew fast, hurtling through space towards her Infinite Self, she cried out, delirious and joyful as the beloved sacrificial lamb does when suddenly it is released from the agony of the limitations of this earthly existence…

And as she disappeared into the Light, her heart sang and she gave thanks…

_____

About Rachel and Albert from the “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” books.

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Rachel has this purity about her, an innocence. And it was her innocence that brought Albert to his knees. You can read here how the Good Pussy Bad Pussy tales began…

Good Pussy Bad Pussy

It was her innocence that brought him to his knees. It might have seemed that he was a powerful man, in control, but her softness, naivety, and openness were far more powerful than his seemingly worldly savoir faire. Was it a cruel twist of fate or poetic justice that it turned out that it was him, Albert, who was afraid of taking the plunge. He – the man of so much confidence and bravado – was the one who was afraid of leaping into the unknown.

Her wonderful, sumptuous chestnut hair framed her lovely face, but still he trembled inside, knowing it was truly she, this green-eyed beauty he hardly knew, who was leading him into uncharted waters.

It was so unexpected, it had taken him by surprise.

But he had to admit he was the one who was awestruck, trembling on the brink. But how could it be? How…

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Today I got this wonderful email from a new Good Pussy Bad Pussy reader. Here’s what Shauna wrote to me about Rachel’s Tale:

“First, this isn’t what I expected. I tend to write off most, if not all, erotic material as just plain smut — cheap, crass, poorly written, and extremely far-fetched. This is far-fetched, and idealistic, but it is BEAUTIFULLY and EXQUISITELY written. This is just plain good writing, call it whatever … and aside from being written exceptionally well, it weaves in some lovely philosophies about love, life, and of course, sex. Well done. Really and truly, this exceeded my expectations, and I am most hard to please. Though not a fabulously skilled or unusually gifted writer myself, I know enough to distinguish the good from the not so good. This isn’t just good. It is bloody brilliant prose, told poetically, lusciously, and naturally, yummily … :)).

Thank you. I love surprises, and this one made my day …

Take care of you,

Shauna”

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After Albert ruthlessly lets an important business associate fuck Rachel, he’s mortified by what he’s done and goes looking for her in the middle of the night. When he finds her at 4 am, he brings her back to his house…  In this excerpt from the book, Rachel tells what happened next…

“When we got to the house, he led me in, took me to his bedroom, undressed me and put me to bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Some hours later, I woke up and stumbled out to the bathroom. I had to get rid of the taste and smell of Felix, so I brushed my teeth and took a hot shower. Then I went back to bed and fell fast asleep again. When I woke up later it was past noon. Albert came in and tended to me like a sick child, bringing me breakfast in bed. He sat on the edge of the low bed, watching me eat hungrily. We still hadn’t spoken.

When I finished eating, he removed the tray and came and sat on the edge of the bed again. He pushed the hair back from my face and looked at me carefully. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said ruefully. “It was wrong of me…”

When I heard his words, it was like a dam burst inside me and I broke down crying.

“I should have known,” he continued slowly, “I should have respected you for who you are Rachel, from the beginning…” His words only made me sob more. I was so exhausted, confused, and mad. I didn’t know what to make of him or of myself or of what I was feeling.

Then I stopped crying and looked at him.  “Albert” I said slowly, “I must know…was it liberation or bondage? What happened last night?  Which was it… please tell me! I must know!”

When I said those words, he burst out laughing. “Oh Rachel, dearest Rachel! You are simply a miracle. A  miracle! Where have you been all my life?” He bent forward and took my face in his hands and hungrily kissed my lips. I was surprised by his hunger. There was something about him, a depth I’d never met before in any man. I remembered how I’d wanted him the last time we were together. How true and real it had seemed at the time. But was it still true now – after all he had put me through?

He drew back from me and sighed. “The wise would say true liberation is only to be found in freedom from the bondage to our desires.” When I didn’t reply, he continued. “I studied for years in the East when I was young – with a Zen master. Only to find myself a slave to my own raging desires. And now there is you. Here in my bed.” He smiled. “Liberation will just have to wait. A little longer.”

He pulled back the covers and put his hands on my naked breasts. I had forgotten I was naked. I sighed at his touch, not knowing if I was mad at him anymore or where life was taking me. So I let him. His caress was gentle and kind. I sank back into the pillows and soon he was kissing my neck and breasts. He sat up again, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Albert, I should call Stefan.”

“Don’t worry, I sent him to Cairo on business last night.” He was pulling off his pants. “I told him I’d look after you.” There was just the tiniest of smiles at the corner of his lips as he said these words, while his hands were seeking my breasts again. I didn’t even have time to pout because he bent forward to kiss me, whispering, “Now will you turn off that little head of yours and stop worrying! Everything will work out just fine. I promise you…”

Good pussy bad pussy. Liberation bondage… I couldn’t know and didn’t know. All I knew was the intensity of his hands and his mouth, bearing down on me, like before making me surrender and follow his every move. And even though I was sore after the rough treatment Felix had given me the night before, I felt my hips begin their little dance, quite on their own, as Albert reached down to touch me and caress my wet pussy. He was gentle and I was sure he knew I was sore.

“Hmmm,” he sighed moving softly with me and pleasuring me in ways I did not know were possible. And when I was moaning and begging him to take me, he finally entered me, plunging himself ever deeper into my waiting womb. And there it was again, the intense thrill of being possessed by this incredible man. And once again his timing was perfect, his touch exquisite, and we exploded together, into the mystical, beautiful space of his big white bed.

 Oh Albert!

From “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale”

Good Pussy Bad Pussy

A. Aimee wrote Rachel’s Tale — or “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” — to delight our beautiful adult bedtime stories. The main character, Rachel, is the wild mother, tired of the quotidian, burning to escape and to taste the unknown. Dealing with the world proves challenging but worth every bit of it. As the gracious version of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, Rachel offers you, the reader, a complete character. The conflict between Good Pussy and Bad Pussy makes Rachel real: the lover longing for a handsome stud fights the mother missing her little son – lover wins on the short run; the wife running away from boredom returns from the inner emptiness of deluxe harlotry – neither one matching her fate. Eventually (spoiler alert)…… There is more than one mother in this archetypal fairy tale of Rachel. It is a story about mothers that I invite you to read. Don’t…

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