Friday update time! FYI: NSFW. ;)
Many thanks again to my patrons - Celine1816, Kiynteyh, nerd-a1ert, Okimafan, and TheTravelingKid. Their donations have helped me get my laptop fixed so I could continue writing, and are now helping me get a monthly membership in Adobe Lightroom so I can alter, edit and organize my photos. It's like I'm a real artist, or somethin'! You guys ruuuuuuuuule.
 And thanks to all my lovely readers and commenters! You are the wiiiiiind beneath my wiiiiiiings...

"That's it," I encouraged her, "keep breathing. Now we're moving the energy up from your heart chakra to your throat. Keep your hips pumping. Goooood."

She had been a bit awkward and obviously hiding some skepticism at first, but she started gamely and had become more focussed as we went on. A small noise eked out of her throat but she stifled it.

"If you feel like making noise, let it out. This chakra is important in communication, clearing out things swallowed instead of spoken. We're safe here."

She gave a tiny nod, then let out a soft, low moan, then another, louder.

"Yes, you're releasing," I told her. "You have the right to free your voice. Now keep growing the energy up and into your third eye."

Normally I remained supportive and serious in cases like this, but when her groans turned into increasingly fervent, short, rhythmic moans, I couldn't help but grin and flush a little. What can I say?

"Okay, time to tense up again. Hold it. Hoooold it. Release. Good. Start moving again."

I could feel her energy rising, and I could tell she was on the edge. As a scientist, I could've chalked this up to reading her physical cues. I could attempt to explain what she was experiencing as a physiological response to certain body movements, breathing patterns and mental reinforcement, the famous placebo effect you've probably heard about. But I'm not a scientist, anymore. And now I know that sometimes we just generate a little magic.

When I could hear her breaths getting ragged and feel her qi bursting from her forehead, I urged her to move the energy up to her crown chakra, building and washing down her body, the universal energy being drawn in and added to her own.

"Now tighten! Tighten everything! Tight, tight, tight… now release," I guided her, and she did. Her body shifted from pelvic thrusting and muscle tension to relaxation, and she let out a long cry as a wave pulsated through her, causing her to tilt her head back and tremble. I waited with her for a while, supportive, satisfied, until she came down.

"And that," I told her with a grin, when her eyes slid barely open, "is a full-body energy orgasm."

She was still breathing a little hard. She lifted up her heavy arm and touched my cheek with her fingertips.

"Merde," she eloquently evaluated. I couldn't help but chuckle, catching her hand as she let it fall and then squeezing it.

"I can leave you alone for a little while, if you want," I offered. "So you can rest and re-ground yourself."

"Non," she insisted, still somewhat out of breath. "Come here. Lay beside me."

I did as I was told and she pulled my head onto her shoulder, kissing my temple tenderly. We laid like that for a while, just breathing, the room mostly dark except for flame-glow, mostly silent except for the occasional popping of embers in the fire. I ran my fingers up over her tank top from her abdomen to the place where her skin met cloth, and absently drew patterns on her clavicle. I felt a hum inside me of sweet contentment, and I had to turn to kiss her jaw.

"So, are you ready?" I asked softly.

"For more energetic orgasms?" she inquired, playing it straight-faced.

"Ha ha. No, to go to Woodstock, meet my guys." It was the last night in the Berkshires, and we had made the arrangements more quickly than we'd expected. We were on the eve of this milestone, and I felt the need to keep checking in. She shrugged a little beneath me.

"I'm ready for wherever you want me to go with you, mon amour." I looked up at her sincere expression.

"You are so fucking cheesy and romantic. Never change," I ordered her, then tacked on "mon amour" in my laughable French accent. We both chuckled and shared a kiss and a squeeze. "So, what did you think about the energy orgasm? Seemed like you had a pretty good time, there."

"Was I that obvious," she smiled, stroking my hair. "You were right, it was a unique experience. It was intense, but joyful… almost, spiritual, you could say?"

"Yeah, good, I'm glad. The point is to feel connected to everything and invigorated by it," I told her. "I mean, you and I, we both love the intellectual experience, but this is about feeling, you know?" She smiled understandingly back at me. "And I think that, really, you're one of the most feeling people I've ever known. You just had to… hide it away for a long time. Emotion in relationships with others is so important, but your relationship with, you know, the life force that created everything, it's reassuring and strengthening. I want you to feel that, too."

"I do, my love." She pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "Thank you for showing me so much of what you do and believe."

"Mmm," I hummed, running my hand back down to the space where her top and pyjama bottoms just failed to meet, leaving a small, soft belt of creamy skin at her navel, which I rubbed slowly.

"But," she said, and paused. I lifted up my head a bit to look at her.

"But what?"

"But, would I be terrible if I said I wouldn't mind a sexual orgasm, too?" Her grin brought out her dimples. Cheeky girl.

We both giggled as I rolled over onto her, supporting my upper body with my arms.

"You would be terrible," I murmured, but was drawn in by her beckoning lips and had to kiss her.

"I would be terrible and...? but...?" she teased me when I pulled back slightly from the kiss.

"Just shut up," I moaned, and we began to make out in earnest.

It was so luxurious to touch her, slowly, all over, to feel the teeth that so often bit her own lip tug at mine. I loved the sounds we made, together, our breaths, our sighs, small moans and the soft, wet noises of mouths meeting each other, tasting other skin. Our hands wandered and our bodies shifted, twisted and curved to meet one another. I got so into it that I forgot we were on the floor, and she had to tickle my ribs a little bit to get me to back up so she could suggest we take things to the bed.

We stripped quickly, and were back to kissing before we even sat down.

"So, wanna use any particular toys tonight," I asked, trying not to bust out into a completely cheesy grin when she ran her hands over my ass.

"Non," she said in that husky way that drove me crazy, and gave me a little push so I sat on the bed. She lifted one of those long legs to rest on one side of me, then climbed up to straddle me fully. She wove her arms around me, fingers tracing the back of my neck, the path between my shoulder blades, and brushed her lips against mine. "Just your hands," she instructed, pressing her center closer to mine. "You are my very best sex toy."

"Hey," I started, wanting for a second to protest being called a toy, but then I decided I was pleased with her teasing. I let out a small scoff at myself, and urged her "c'mere…"

I slid back a bit on the bed so I could fold my legs beneath her, and she moved with me, wrapping her legs around me as we settled. Her nipples brushed against mine and I lost my breath, a jolt of pleasure flooding my body and brain. She was starting to grind slowly against me as I brought one hand up to cup and stroke her breasts, the other holding her against me. She started making little moans and huffs as we kissed and pressed, kissed and pressed, and then she took my hand from her chest and pressed my palm to her lips. Her eyes were dark and heavy with desire, yet she still managed to look at me like she was delving into me, reaching for and exploring my mind and soul as if they were the greatest, most fascinating mysteries on Earth. I was losing track of everything except the feel of her when she turned my hand with her own and ran her tongue up my fingers, then enveloped three of them in her hot mouth and sucked on them softly. Holy fucking shit.

"Huhhh," I let out, eloquently.

She gently pulled my hand from her mouth and drew it down between her legs, her intense, stunning eyes locked on mine the whole time. When my fingers stroked through her wet heat we both let out a sigh. She squeezed my hand, and I knew what she wanted: no teasing, no extra build-up needed; she was already soft and slick, close to dripping. I slid my fingers inside her, and it felt like a necessity, like the very beating of our hearts and movement of our breaths depended on it. I felt like I could feel her pulse envelop me, throbbing all the way from my fingers up my arm and down to the core of my arousal, her desire spinning on my palm as her inner muscles drew me in and we began to purl against one another.

"Oh…" she breathed, but we didn't need any words, not with our eyes, our bodies, our souls linked like that.

I watched her as she rode my hand and lap — fluid, graceful. Her lips were parted and her breaths would tremble and flow, tremble and flow… I watched her, looked at her eyes, her mouth, the fine crow's-feet crossing above the apples of her cheeks at the corners of her eyes, the smile lines that had been etched from her nose to her lips, and the small lines between her eyebrows that began to deepen as I watched, her brows slightly furrowing in concentration and pleasure. Up at her hairline just a few grey strands appeared at her roots, emerging stealthily from her most recent hair colouring. I loved them. I loved that she had pushed through life, through the hard times and hard choices to earn them and to bring us here, back together, after so much time, after it seemed we'd never see each other again, much less reunite. But we were meant to, it was clear.

I love this woman, I thought, as I braced my hand against my pelvis and began to thrust deeper into her. I curled my fingers and began a secondary rhythm with them. I love this woman, and I want to be with her. I want to be with her as much as possible, for as long as possible, I knew. I want us to share a life together. Her hips stuttered and her breath hitched into moans that rose in pitch and volume. I watched her come apart, and it tumbled through me, until I, like she had, was coming from witnessing her pleasure.

We clung to each other as we rode out the last waves, and then she began a slow, spent lean backwards until I caught and tried to stop her, and we both toppled over sideways on the bed, all jumbled limbs and catching breaths and buzzing nerves.

So very lucky.

Her eyes met mine again, wide open and sincere, almost in awe, although I imagine it was more at our connection than anything particular I did. She stroked my face, reverently, softly, and I found myself doing the same to her. We stayed like that and sank into it, like a pillow of down, for I don't know how long.

"I'm just… overjoyed you're coming," I told her, breaking the silence. The corners of her beautiful mouth curved upwards, and she kissed my hand.

"I'm so happy," she whispered, and I felt as if I was finally present and still in my life, like my brain relaxed and my bones settled into a sweet, steady hum… like I didn't have to — didn't want to — run anymore. Together, we'd be home.