Please come again.

I came again moments after you left with the smell of you on my skin. Exhausted and smiling.

Image Credit.

Anticipation

I close my eyes and begin thumbing through the images of you from last night. I’ve been doing this so often since you left, the corners are beginning to wear. I took them to bed with me as I closed the door behind you. And today they have been my dirty little secrets, hidden from view, as I went about my day. I’ve been savoring them, letting them stroke my skin and brain. Your voice, a temporary salve to this heat you have created. But it’s you I really crave. Your touch and strength. The uncanny way you can read my mind and know what I want and sometimes can’t admit. Your smile and laugh that are so contagious I find myself smiling as I write this. The tease of what’s to come, of what I know I shouldn’t but want to none-the-less. Rules thrown out the window, but knowing inside, I could not have resisted much longer. Missing you.

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Slow dancing in a burning room

I've met someone new. Actually, more accurately, I've reconnected with someone from my past. We haven't met in person yet, but I love the slow, sly cautious dance we are having as we get reacquainted. Between the emails and the instant messages, there is a subtle undercurrent of potential resting on memories that has my body buzzing. The flirting, both obvious and veiled, includes honest and real declarations, dirty little secrets, wants, regrets and desires. He has given me permission to be completely honest with my feelings without even saying a word. How unlike me. I wonder if I will be required to ask permission for what I want in bed. How delicious. I want to seduce him, I want him to be thinking of our conversations when he falls asleep at night, I want him to check his email so often it distracts him from work, I want him to be focused on the IM screen and just seeing my name pop up brings a smile to his lips. I want him to wonder what sex will be like with me after 26 years of not seeing each other and he only knowing the girl and not the woman I've become. I can't wait for the first kiss. My mouth waters just thinking about it.

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Inappropriate men

Why and how do they find me?

Why does it have be incredible sex?

Why do I want more?

I want more.

The next morning

Waking up with a wicked hangover to find my clothes tossed about the room with complete abandon. Open condom wrappers on the floor. Buttons scattered down the stairs eliciting the memory and the sound of him ripping my shirt open and the buttons dancing off the walls. Bandaids on the counter but no idea why. Several wine bottles on the bar. My sweater tossed over the table. A chair knocked over. His shirt in my bathroom and picking it up and deliciously breathing him in again. Snippets of the shape of his body, how beautiful the silhouette was behind the foggy glass of my shower. Wondering what shirt he picked of mine to wear to work. Laying in bed half covered by the sheet hoping he will stop and come back as he passes me on his way out, he does...twice.

More please.

Thank you Gracie for the perfect image.

Body High

I’m not sure what has gotten into me.

Funny I would choose that sentence. One my mother would have used to describe me as a child when I was misbehaving. But I think it’s appropriate in this particular moment.

My body is buzzing from within. It has its own agenda and is not consulting my brain for guidance. Hell, it’s not consulting me for anything. This feeling has taken over, consuming my thoughts and distracting me from life. It is forcing me to make decisions I would normally never entertain, at least not in the light of day. It’s somehow reading my subconscious and acting on it without consequence.

I’m finding myself in circumstances completely unlike me, yet just like me. Moments that make me smile for days after. That make me yearn for more. I sit outside my body, listening and watching myself ask for what I want without fear or shame. Enjoying the spoils of these risks and becoming braver each day. And the more I do, the more I want. The feeling grows stronger the more I feed it and I don’t want to stop.

And that, that feeling of not reigning in this beast is the scariest of them all.

I want...more

I want to feel his skin beneath my fingernails. I want to feel his taut, tough muscles ripen against my touch. I want to hear his sighs in my ear, feel his moist lips graze along my neck and his weight along my body. I want to feel his desire on my hip, taste his mouth and breathe in his scent. I want to dance on fresh linen, I want to paint his body with my auburn hair and I want to exchange power. I want his teeth to graze over my alabaster skin and mark his territory. I want to lose time, I want to let go, I want to become his concubine. I want to call in sick and lay in bed all day and tell each other secrets again. I want to taste his hungry kisses and pull him into my mouth. I want to be preoccupied by the memories of him, I want to anticipate his next visit, and I want to plan for our next adventure.

Read "I want"

Dreams

I pay attention to my dreams. I think they are often the subconscious telling our conscience mind something…or at least hinting to an itch in our psyche. I dream a lot about work and find they remind me of things I have not anticipated or have completely forgotten. I also think they are a way to explore situations we might be too afraid to do in real life yet still wonder about. I think my most recent dream would fall into this last example. A few nights ago, I dreamt about being in bed with two men. It wasn’t an all out sex dream, but more of a moment of intimacy. The two men in the dream are men in my life. One I have a history with and one that I don’t but have been wondering about. The snippet of the dream, before it was so rudely interrupted by the alarm, was really just a snapshot of a moment. We were lying in a big bed in the middle of the afternoon. It was fall, the windows were open, and the cool breeze was blowing through the room, rustling the curtains. In the dream, I see 3 arms all toppled together. Mine, of fair skin, in between two others darker than my own. I was lying on my stomach, my face turned toward the older of the two, and the young man lying between my legs with his face upon my ass. It was innocent, we had our clothes on, but the anticipation swirling around the room was as real as if there was fog shrouding our bodies. I have not been able to get it out of my mind. The details are as fresh now as they were when I woke up. My minds eye photograph of this moment is something that I would want to capture with my camera in real life. The innocence, the possibility, the beauty of love and intimacy. Which, to most, would seem a contradiction between 3 people…and that contradiction, or breaking of the norm, I revel in.

Relationships

The grass is not always greener on the other side. I know this. I know that what I crave right now (intimacy and companionship, even love) someone else is wishing for the things I have (independence, freedom, and choice). No one is ever completely happy with their lives. There is always something we need or want or hope for. It doesn’t make it any easier to know that even if we get what we want, we will want for something different later. As I get older, I see more of the details in relationships. I wonder, is marriage realistic in today’s world? I tried it once, but it didn’t take. And now, older, wiser and able to separate the romance from real life, I’m not sure I could do it again. As I write this I don’t know one person who has ever been monogamous in a relationship. Is marriage born from some religious point of view? Or from a time when people married to bear children to help work the farm. And – at any point along the way, have we always been monogamous? I think that along the path of life, we need different things from different people. I think the hope that one person can be that provider of all things, is not realistic. And, as we evolve and change over time, our needs do too. How can we expect our partner to evolve in the same way and still provide us with our changing needs? I do know that through life, we find people who resonate with us and the timing of their needs matches the timing of our own. In this kismet moment, I think it’s important to explore all possibilities. To wring all the life from this happenstance instant and take the experience and push forward, move on and learn more about yourself and what new needs this experience will define.

There is a new series on HBO called “Tell Me You Love Me”. It’s remarkably done. It is something anyone can understand, regardless of relationship status. I would recommend watching it. It could be a lens into your own world or the world you think you desire. Here is a snippet from a blog I enjoy lurking about on commenting on this show: Erika Lust

And the writing of creator and executive producer Cynthia Mort is spot on - it never flinches. She has absolutely nailed the small moments in every relationship - the not talking, the talking around, the quick, hurt expressions and forced intimacy. The series is shot with an almost uncomfortable cinema verite closeness, the camera probing ever nearer. At times dark and claustrophobic, it never once relents for wide angles or sweeping pans. It wants to be in the face of these couples, capturing what they're thinking and not saying.

Bound Freedom

While flipping through the 1000+ TV stations, I stumbled onto a movie called: Lie with Me

This is a quote from the movie:
You have to wait until you are uncovered
You have to wait with someone naked
And then you have to wait some more.

This movie sometimes feels like my life. I like the power of sex. I like the unattached, raw emotion of unencumbered sex. I enjoy the dangers of these moments and how completely unlike me I can become. I find surprised satisfaction in finding a man that is able to exert his power over me as I’m usually the aggressor.

Yet, are they just wonderful distractions to taking a risk, becoming vulnerable and possibly stumbling into something true?

I think I’m a walking contradiction.

I Want...

I’m crawling out of my skin. I need a fix... a human fix. I want to touch a being, kiss a soul, bite flesh and breathe in the need for me as I exhale the need for them. I want to lose my bearing and direction as I tumble and tangle myself in another. Standard language is unrecognizable as moans and sighs become prevalent. Hunger is the goal and fulfillment the action of every movement and want. I need it to be rough, and passionate, and tenderly painful. I want bruises that are kissed in the morning’s light. I want tender lips, that when traced by my fingertips, elicit secret smiles that everyone around me wants to know. I want laughter and hugs that know no end. I want toes touching as we sleep and waking with your body wanting more. And I want to repeat it all again.