It Wasn’t You

I shut my eyes.  Tight.  It wasn’t you.

As his hand slid over my  breast, and he moaned, it wasn’t you.

His hand slid over my belly, dipped down into my valley, my eyes just got tighter and I turned my head, willing his eager face out of my mind.

He moved on top and his head buried deep in my neck, his mouth breathing hot air, his tongue darting in and out and I groaned.  Where are you?

Why aren’t you here?  Why aren’t you him?  Why isn’t he you?

He entered me and my body gave in to the pleasure, gave in to my weakness and I begged my body to respond quick, begged my body to hurry up and get mine.

And within minutes, as he moved against me, grinding on me, filling me completely, my body released, pushing against him for that extra inch that would give me that extra mile.

And still my eyes remained closed.  Wide shut.  Your pretty face in my head, looking deep into my eyes, that smile spreading on your face, asking for my want, asking for my need, asking for me to give myself, your voice in my ear, your scent on my pillow, your touch on my skin.

But you weren’t here.  

Because it wasn’t you.

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I’m Not Ready…

I’m not ready, to end this freaky affair, I’m not ready, to go nowhere… – Keith Sweat, “I’m Not Ready.”

How does something end without even beginning?

How do you tell “our story”? How will you say how you met me and where we met? How we only made love three times? Three times.

The first time, the first time alone…

How can you talk about that? How can you describe….that?

What will you say?  

That you were finishing my sentences after having met me only an hour before…

That your heart was pounding so loudly, I could feel it when my fingers softly touched your chest…

That when you touched me, my body actually tingled and you felt it in your fingertips… 

You called it. You said I was electric

Sensational.

How are you going to talk about loving me?

That I made you moan uncontrollably, even though I covered your mouth with mine..

That I had to hush baby to remind you to keep quiet because your sounds were so sexy…

That you couldn’t keep from staring into my eyes with every thrust, enjoying the look of pleasure, knowing you were giving me that pleasure…

That your body froze once you spilled into me and you called my name. My name

That you wanted to swallow me whole with every kiss…your tongue exploring and never tiring and wanting more and wishing time would stand still…

You said I was amazing. You called me a queen.

What about the second time?  How you spent your birthday in my bed? And how I was trying to wait until midnight to kiss you but I couldn’t wait any longer and your eyes softened like you were in love when I reached over and put my lips on yours? How we were trying so patiently to prolong our love time together so we talked, we talked about why you thought it made sense that I like giraffes? And how we laughed out loud at your choice of animal and we were giddy and youthful and fun? And how, when you undressed, it was an urgency to have your naked body on my bare skin?

How am I going to forget you? How?

Forget the temperature of your skin.

Forget the warmth of your hugs.

Forget the shape of your lips.

Forget the long stroke of your slender fingers.

Forget that scar above your eyebrow, the one I always ask about.

Forget the feel of your back on my fingertips.

Forget the strength of those legs that keep me pinned to this bed.

Forget the length of you that fills me completely.

How?

And the last time….

If I knew that would be our last time, you’d still be here. 

No Words…

No Words…

I don’t want to make my bed.

I don’t want to mess up the memories of my late night and my early morning with…

Him.  

I want the rumpled up bed to remain like this, the print of his head on my pillow, the duvet tossed carelessly aside to enable him to move…

On top of me.

When his lips captured mine, all the questions didn’t matter.  My why’s and when’s and how come’s were answered as soon as his tongue touched mine.

Nothing mattered.

His voice, his face, his eyes, his smile.

That smile.

And then he looked down at me as he entered me, his eyes watching mine, his mouth reaching and I could sense the struggle between kissing me and watching me and kissing won because kissing me was what he was meant to do.

His strokes were in tempo with my heart, his moans in sync with my breath, and I laid still, capturing the moment in my memory so I could think about it now, write about it now, remember the details now.

He spoke my words, my thoughts, my feelings..

Do you know how good you feel?

And…

I want to stay inside you like this forever.

And I smiled because I know.

I know. 

I knew then that I wanted him inside forever.

But then the waves started to threaten and I could feel him, and he moved, ever so rhythmically, pounding yet caressing, pushing yet touching, fucking yet…

Loving.

So loving and maddening and frustrating and…

You’re amazing.  

Perfectly in tune with what my body was telling him, listening to how my body moved, yet, still I laid, capturing, remembering, thinking…

Memorizing his body and his strokes and his touch and his skin, my God his skin, and his mouth that made me tremble and go weak and limp under his command and still, I laid, motionless…

No words.

And I lay here now, remembering, thinking, memories of his body on this bed, his body on mine, his fingers on my skin, his tongue probing, finding…

I remember your taste.

And I can’t wait to have him again.