Wednesday 16 April 2014

16.4.2014.

"I want you to touch me. I want to moan your name. I want your tongue on my neck, whispering sex language, I want to feel you breath on my skin."
I stopped typing when I saw his message.
"I want to explore your body with my fingers and my tongue. I want to find those spots that would make your insides quaver. I want to suck your nipples till you forget to breathe."
I picked up my phone, and dialed his number from my memory.
"You should be here, I want you here. I need you to hold me"
We were torturing ourselves, we were just blocks away from each other and it hurt like hell.
All our conversations ended with the need for a deeper form of intimacy.
......................................................................................................................................................

"I want your hands on my arse. I want my tongue in your mouth. I want to feel your heartbeat against mine. I want to feel your hardness in-between my legs."
His message came in.
"I want to claim you for mine. I want to get you dripping wet with my fingers. I want to pound into you till forever."
I wanted joint bodies and heated romance. He wasn't even a few blocks away anymore, he was at the other end of the world and I was here. Some how we managed to talk about everything still, from my boring work hours to his sex escapades.
........................................................................................................................................................

Memory is like rain. Several emotions hitting you so hard, you want to run and look for cover. I was in love with him, I mean, there were several places I couldn't go without remembering his hands holding mine, or his laughter, or the taste of his mouth or how his skin shone like gold under the sun. My nights were incomplete without wanting him. I couldn't listen to the songs I loved without that familiar liquid ache under my skin wanting him to hold me like he did all the time when we played the same songs.

Tuesday 1 April 2014

1, April, 2014.

Did I tell you how jittery I got as you took my hand while we walked through the corridor to our hotel room? Did I tell you my breathing stopped when you pushed me against the wall right before we got to the door? How my knees buckled as I felt your hardness on my ass, how I thought of all of that hardness inside me and I closed my eyes? Do you have any idea how confused and uneasy I was when we got into the room? How I had to remind myself repeatedly that we were not love, we were too damaged for love, this was sex, you said this was the better way. We both cared for each other and I was giving myself to you, you were going to be my first and I was deeply in love with you. How I saw my mother's sad eyes and my dad's disappointed face. I thought of Jesus looking down at me now, did He even understand? Did he also see my sadness, my many nights of lonely, my longing for senseless passionate nights and naive love? I smiled at you now. I needed this. You pulled me to you, kissing me fervently till my lower lips was sore from all that emotion. You were different from any other person I had been with, I felt the parts of my body your lips kissed ache delicately after you left them. How awkward and embarrassed I was at myself because I didn't know what to do, how to please you, how inexperienced I was. How I shivered with longing as your lips worked on my right boob, how I arched my back and held onto your afro. I was completely unprepared when your lips worked their way down in between my thighs, my body convulsed in pleasure and I moaned out your name like a plea. At that moment I realize I wasn't just pleading for a release but my heart was begging you to love me. I didn't want to scare you away, you always told me how you left all the other girls that wanted more. You said you liked me because I understood, that I knew better to recognize love as unnecessary weakness that would only complicate things.
You ask if I'm ready, I look at you with disturbed and uncertain eyes, and nod. You tell me to open up to you and I scramble to obey. Then I see it, we had been making out for several minutes but then I've just begun to apprehend how it looked like a weapon, an instrument of pain. I let you anyway, through the blinding pain, I closed my eyes tightly to wad of tears and bit my lips hard so I don't cry out. Was this what intimacy meant? I looked at you now, your face was wound up, your were so engrossed in riding me, at the frenzy to see the agonizing pain I was going through. I loved you even now, even with my cramped lower body. For many lifeless minutes I let that wave of countless drops of emotions drown me. You had pulled yourself from me and rolled to the other side of the bed. I looked at you and you looked away, things were never going to be the same.