Primitive Art
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A Primitive Hope Ch. 01 free porn video
Chapter I: A Lifeless Identity…
It was a terrible divorce that left me ruined, and bankrupt. At 32 years of age, I was, for the first time in my life, out to fend for myself in this cruel, empty world. My ex-husband and I were married at an early age after High School when love and romance seemed to be the only two things regarding my adolescent intellect. It seemed like the right thing to do, having someone care for you day in and day out. Yet with maturity and wisdom now in my reasoning, that old-fashioned notion was nothing more than a silly girl’s dream.
I never considered myself attractive, or desirable to anyone’s discerning eye. I felt wanted at the onset of my doomed marriage when sex was all that we could experience. Yet after time, that in itself seemed monotonous after a while. The typical act of intercourse was becoming an agreeable task to say the least. What was left of any desire or lust simply got washed away in the sands of time. I felt cheated in several ways considering how deeply emotional I was. As a young woman, my dreams consisted of sweeping passion and desire being the only constant in my life… a lifelong impulse to reveal genuine love in every manner possible.
After our separation, I was f***ed to relocate to a one bedroom apartment outside the city. The divorce decree left me little to live on, and before long, I was calling my trustworthy Mother for help. It broke my heart me to ask her for money, yet her tender sympathy for my recent break-up inspired her to support me until I could get back on my feet. Luckily, I had no c***dren or large amounts of debt to contend with. I suppose in that respect, I was indeed fortunate. She truly made every effort to ensure my survival, stopping by occasionally to make me dinner, clean my place up, and take care of her only c***d. She knew all too well the heartbreaking pains of a divorce. Dad left her when I was five years old, and since then, it was just her and I. We had a deeply trusting relationship, and now that her c***d was licking the wounds of divorce, she faithfully made sure that I was okay. She spent vast amounts of money to properly guarantee that I was okay. One day, I came home to find that she had spent over $2000 on a new computer for me. Several CD’s of resume programs and job related software kits were suggestively placed all around the new system, so I promptly made sure they would be put to good use.
Three months after my divorce was final, things were still looking quite grim for me. Still unemployed, my days were consisting of watching television, and eating a lot of garbage that added at least 20 pounds to my already healthy frame. I just didn’t care anymore. Soon I began drinking and smoking (what used to be just for kicks in school), and the days eventually began to haze together in a misty state of existence. None of my resumes seemed to attract any employers, so that fact only fueled my barren state of mind even more. Even looking into the mirror depressed me to no end. My once curvy figure was now weighed down with a portly stomach and cottage cheese hips. Remembering back to the days of cheer leading and college life, it saddened me to know that my 38-24-36 busty frame was now expanding day by day. My long blonde hair that seemed to glisten in the light now bore a dull, brownish hue that I was sickened to even glance at. My ex used to love my voluptuous body, or so he said. And I kept that figure as best as I could until he left me… now it was worthless. No more the seductive body of eroticism and fondness. I felt terrible.
Was this the prelude to my demise? Was this to be the result of merely wanting to be with the one you thought you loved? What ever happened to ‘until death do us part?’
Spring was upon me, and my days typically started around 3 or 4pm as I crawled out of bed. Stumbling to my coffee maker, I could feel the warmth of the outside sun casting a warm glow upon me. The temporary hint of promise quickly vanished as I lazily shuffled back into the den, and sat down at my disheveled desk to figure out how much I needed to ask from Mother for another month. Staring at the heap of bills in front of me, I realized that I needed a calculator to add up the amounts, and since there was no pocket sized calculator handy, I switched on my new computer. I had at best maybe turned on this system once of twice in the past two months, and I felt terrible that Mother had spent so much on this since I never put it to use. Quickly locating the calculator, I called up the screen to use it. As it was coming up, I noticed an icon on my desktop that featured free internet service. Never really interested in the internet, the thought for some reason appealed to me on this day. Perhaps I could find an old friend from school? Or maybe find a job? Two clicks later, I was signed on, and plunged into a completely new world of digital initiation.
Needless to say, it was a most welcome breath of fresh air. I was familiar with the usage and language of computers from my previous job, yet I soon realized that I had a lot to learn. I quickly sat up, intrigued by all that was possible out there. Soon, I was calling up web sites that held my interests. So many ideas started filling my mind… I quickly found a local gym as I remembered how I used to love working out. Then I discovered a woman’s’ divorce recovery group that met every week. Wow, I was taken aback by all these new and exciting things. For the first time in almost a year, I felt alive again… Hopeful. Encouraged. It was just what I needed.
Not long after, I decided to re-visit my High School class’ web site. Curious about how some of my old friends were doing, I was delighted to see a section containing all the e-mail addresses of my fellow classmates. It felt refreshing for some reason… like I had to re-visit my roots in order to rebuild my existence. Soon, I was sending dozens of messages to several of my old friends telling them of my life, and asking how they were. I felt a bit sad considering that my ex-husband basically drove most of my friends away after we married. He was always insanely jealous for some reason, even of my closest girlfriends. It was a closely guarded secret that I never expressed during our marriage as to how sad I was losing touch with all of my cherished schoolmates.
A few days later, the replies were beginning to flood back in. Amazingly enough, I found myself waking up with gusto, something that I was wasn’t in the habit of before. Everyone was delighted to have heard from me, and wanted to know more about my life and how I was doing. I glowed in the wonderful, friendly expressions that came from over twelve of my dearest girlfriends. Soon, all of us were exchanging phone numbers and spending hours upon hours of re-establishing our camaraderie. It was just what I needed to crawl back out of this Hell I was bound in.
On the following Saturday, I woke up to see a reply to my initial message sent out over a week before from Cindi, my most beloved friend since 6th grade. I had come to the conclusion that she never received my first message, and just considered it a dead end. Yet there it was, an immense, exhilarated message that burst at the seams in joy that her old friend Kristen had written to her. She had included her phone number along with it, and since our friendship deserved more than a e-mailed reply, I quickly called her to say Hi. It was incredible to hear her voice again! That sassy, yet confident voice that I always loved to hear was now speaking with me, and I couldn’t have been happier. We must have talked for at least two hours that day before she said she had to go. Another time was arranged when we could talk again, which was later that night. I spent the rest of the evening replying to my e-mails when her call came back around 8pm. Just as she always was, she brought many smiles and laughs to my battered soul. We tackled every topic there was considering we had close to f******n years to catch up on. I told her of my recent divorce, and how I was trying to cope with it. She spoke of her exciting life out west in Nevada, how she found herself out there and was truly happy. Later, I asked her point blank…
‘How did you do it, Cyn? I mean, what makes you so happy.?’ I innocently asked.
‘You wouldn’t understand it, Kris.’ She replied. ‘It’s not what a lot of people really think could be rewarding.’
Acknowledging her meaning, I simply went on to another topic. Yet somehow I knew in her voice there was something far more involved. In school, whenever Cindi was deeply passionate about something, she always got this serious tone in her voice. Just like when we ran together at the Cross Country finals at the State competition, she made up her mind to do the best she could, and win that trophy. Needless to say, she did. And now I heard those same inflections in her voice… that determined, assured tone of conclusiveness and vigor. She never ceased to amaze me in that respect.
In the days that followed, Cindi and I spent nearly every night on the phone. More of the heartbreaking details about the divorce came out as did my depressed state of mind. It felt wonderful to confide in her after all these years, and our foundation of trust was firmly re-established once more. She listened to my cries hour after hour, offering her support and kind hearted tenderness to her wounded friend.
‘I wish I was there to give you a great big hug, sweetie.’ She said in her comforting voice.
‘I know.’ I replied, taking comfort in the silence. ‘You were always my best friend.’
I heard her pacifying moan in speechless agreement.
‘Do you remember that time at State semifinals?’ she then asked.
Baffled by her question, I replied, ‘No sweetie, I don’t.’
I felt terrible not knowing what she meant. All I could remember was our cross country team at some cold, remote place in southern Illinois during our senior year.
‘Oh come on, Kristy…’ she answered in that self-confident voice.
‘What? I really don’t know! I’m sorry sweetie!’ I said.
A brief moment of awkward silence followed… Soon, my mind really started going back in the cobwebs of time. I gasped as the exact memory soon came to the forefront of my thoughts…
‘Oooh, that.’ I said in a lower tone. ‘Yea, I uhmm… I almost forgot.’ I said, somewhat nervous. I knew exactly what she was talking about.
‘That was the most beautiful moment of my entire life.’ Cindi said in that low voice.
She fondly recalled that night after we won our tournament, back at our hotel. Since c***dhood, Cindi had always been the assertive type in everything she did. When she set her goals on something, she did everything in her power to reach that objective, and she did on that momentous night when she and I shared a very special kiss together. Both of us had just showered, and were getting ready for bed since we had to be up at 5am the next morning. Looking back, I never really considered her as anything else besides a friend. We had our intimate moments where we would change clothes together, or sit up all night talking about guys or some other silly topic that teenagers share. But this was something different. The way in which she approached me… her meticulous movements that seemed to top off the perfect day of victory and success. We were both very happy considering we spent the entire year preparing for that tournament. I seemed to remember it as a comforting expression of unconditional love and tranquillity, a bond that only two of the closest friends could ever share.
I never considered myself a homosexual woman, or whatever people call in these days. I know deep down I have always admired women in a sacred way, yet never fully giving myself to such thoughts of any gestures of these enigmatic feelings. Yet with Cindi, I felt as alive as one could that night when we slept together completely unclothed, and in one anothers agreeable arms. We didn’t have sex or make love, yet that one kiss seemed to seal our eternal friendship. And now I couldn’t explain why I had forgotten that, or why I never carried that moment with me during all of these painful years. Apparently she had, and never once overlooked it.
The conversation made a welcome, more meaningful turn. Both of us sighed in gracious serenity as images and feelings re-surfaced to the present. I didn’t feel uneasy or nervous for some reason. It felt good to hear her soothing words.
‘You were my first love, Kris.’ She warmly cooed. ‘I know I should have told you that long ago, but it’s true. You were the one.’
I couldn’t reply. How could I have? What does one say to someone who reveals a lifelong pledge of such deep measure? I felt so stupid… so inarticulate in my reply.
‘Oh Cyn.’ I uttered in a loving tone. ‘Why didn’t you ever say anything?’
I could hear the growing sadness in her words. Our conversation now was one of thoughtful consequence. I could tell she was gently crying, although she was trying her best to hide it. She was never good at trying to keep anything from me… she should have known better.
‘I just… I just thought you were so in love with Gary.’ She stuttered between tears. ‘You know, being that way was always something weird or crazy.’
She had a point. Girls at our school who were gay were always shunned, or f***ed to live with their natural ambitions in agonizing silence. I had a few times wondered if Cindi was this way, but being so wrapped up in the day to day events of a teenager superseded those significant matters of the heart. I felt so bad for my dear friend… How did I ever not see this? Why didn’t I look for this, or better yet, why didn’t I follow up that night with another time where we both could express ourselves?
I had to quit beating myself up. That was in the past, and there was nothing I could do about it. I had to deal with here and now, and my heart broken friend who still suffered from her unrequited love. I turned the conversation to a more hopeful one, which surprised even me. Here I was speaking of hope and the future, words that never once came from my mouth in the months proceeding today. We ended our talk that evening with words of affection and promise, words that seemed to clearly spell a certain fate. That night I fell to sl**p with Cindi in my thoughts… wondering what she may look like now. Curious if she still had that muscular, lean body she had in school. Images of her ceased all hopes of a quick slumber as I did something I hadn’t done in years. I masturbated… and for the first time in my entire life, I felt wave upon wave of splintering orgasms with a woman involved.
Little did I know that I too was admitting a hidden truth all along. A shrouded reality that called to my soul… a genuine need for something that no man could ever aspire to satisfy. An obligation that only a woman could ever fulfill. My life would never be the same again, or so I thought.
Chapter II… Re-birth
A knock came at my door the next day. I was already up, and answered it to see an overnight package lying at my doorstep. Like a little girl on Christmas morning, I hurriedly opened it to find f******n red roses inside… and a single yellow one. It couldn’t have arrived at a better time. Inside, the card read:
‘For My Dearest Kristen. Fate has brought our paths together once more. Please know that my most sincerest hopes are that they will never go astray again. The red ones represent my love for you all the years without you, and the yellow one is for our eternal friendship. I love you… XOXOXO Cindi.’
The words melted me right there. Tears abruptly fell from my eyes as I held the card close to my heart. This was simply too good to be true. It was all I could do from breaking down and weeping in abounding joy. My dearest friend Cindi was back in my life, back where it should have always been. Now was the moment of truth… I had to act on this loving deed of devotion. Quickly setting her roses in my vase, I called Mother to ask her to help me get out to Nevada. Just as Cindi surprised me with these roses, I was going to give her even more of a surprise with me showing up at her doorstep. It seemed silly to do, flying all the way out there, but I had to. It mattered to me. Being realistic, or doubting something like this would simply lead to an empty life… love was worth taking a risk. Cindi was worth it.
Mother was happy to hear that Cindi and I got back in touch with one another. She happily agreed to pay for my flight out there, promising me to send Cindi her warm greetings. It was so rushed, but Mother dropped me off at O’Hare later that evening to catch the Las Vegas flight that arrived at midnight. I arranged for a room at the Belagio Casino, thinking I would need some time to get ready to see Cindi. I needed to buy some more attractive outfits, something that she would love to see me in when we would at long last be together. Plus I knew she had her job she told me about at a local gym in nearby Henderson, so I thought that preparation would be in order.
The next morning, I awoke early to do some shopping. Cindi had said she usually works until 5pm, so I spent the morning and afternoon looking for the perfect outfit. I wasn’t sure how she would take to my appearance, considering I was very much out of shape. I told her that I probably wasn’t anything she would find attractive, yet her response was accepting and inviting. I felt so wonderful as I arranged for a courier to send her an exquisite arrangement of flowers at the gym. I enclosed a note with my room number at the hotel, and arrived back to prepare for her (hopeful) arrival.
5pm soon came and passed, as did 6, 7, and 8… I was beginning to wonder if she had even received the flowers. I felt a bit disheartened knowing that all of my efforts could have been in vain, yet realized that this was an entirely spontaneous trip. One that might probably interfere with her day to day life. Dressed in a form fitting black suit, I again visited the bathroom to check my appearance once more. I felt so alive… so good again. My hair was fixed up, spread out across my shoulders. I put on my best jewelry for the occasion as well… Even though I was meeting another woman, I still loved dressing up and looking good for someone. Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt that I wasn’t so bad of a catch. Yes, I had a lot of ‘junk in the trunk’ as they say, but nothing that a little exercise and dieting wouldn’t take care of. Perhaps Cindi would help me take care of that… I hoped she would.
Three strong knocks on my door jolted me. Gasping, I knew it was her, but was unsure since it was such a f***eful knocking. Going to the door after primping myself one last time, I flung open the door to see something of a shock. There, standing in an exquisite ankle length cocktail dress was a bulging, mammoth woman. Her head was completely shaved with not a trace of hair to be seen… no eyebrows at all, and thick, tremendous muscles all over her stunning frame. It was like something out of a freak show, or some other odd exhibition. For a brief second, I thought she was a wrestler since my ex always watched those silly wrestling shows on TV.
‘Cindi?’ I nervously asked.
‘No, I’m Fiona.’ The stranger replied in a low, masculine voice.
I took a quick glance at her shapely cleavage to assure myself she was indeed a woman. I was startled to say the least. Partially because of her girth and Herculean frame, and also because I had no idea who she was. Yet she was remarkably beautiful in her own way. A deep mahogany tan covered her glossy skin… elegant jewelry adorned her ears, neckline, and wrists as she obviously loved being pretty as well.
Aspen
- 23.06.2022
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