When she touched me the first time I thought it was by accident and I tried to pretend I hadn’t noticed
But the truth was that I liked it. Her hand was gentle, and when it brushed my shoulder I felt a chill, and a shortness of breath
I found myself seeking excuses to stand near to her, only partially sub-conscious of my own selfish motives
And when she looked at me I smiled. I wanted her to know, somehow, that I liked it when she touched me
She must have got the message, for she touched my arm again. And this time she did not pull away
I turned to her. I know my eyes were bright. Joy was leaping from my very bosom. My skin began to tingle
When the food was ready she put her hand on the small of my back and guided me to the dining area
I tried not to blush, but how does one do that anyway? I was feeling warm. She made me feel special. Even pretty.
When she sat beside me I was glad. And more than once I found a reason to accidentally bump her thigh with mine.
She knew. And she ceased my silly antics with a steady pressure of her leg against mine. I was comforted.
She asked if she could drive me home. And I said yes. It was all happening as I desired. Oh, thank you, God. Oh, thank you.
And as we drove she casually asked if I was interested in seeing where she lived. She had asked my desire.
She owned her own small house. A dainty thing, with two bedrooms and two baths. She gave me a tour.
When we came to her bedroom she invited me in. And I went. I was shaking with anticipation.
She took me in her arms and kissed me. Such a warm and loving kiss I had never before known.
Her hands slid over my shoulders, and took down the zipper of my dress.
I had never done this before. And I confess that I was scared. But she was gentle, kind and loving.
I let her undress me to my panties. I let her kiss my breasts. She played with my ears. And then played more with the rest.
She showed me what to do. So I could do it right for her. And such feeling I had not known. Oh, if it could last forever.
What she did to me I did to her. I had never thought I could. But I loved her from the start. And from the start I knew I would.
I live with her now. We share the house. The house with two small rooms with beds.
But when it’s time to go to bed, with each other we do rest.
I love you, Simone.
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6 comments:
Somehow lost this blog in the shuffle. Too tired tonight, but I will be back.
It's okay. I've been struggling with finding things to write.
Feeling a bit down, I guess.
When I was younger, I wrote a lot of my poetry when I was feeling down.
Angst poetry, I suppose. :-)
It did help me to express all those crappy feelings in a pretty way.
Hope you feel more up soon!
Yes. Writing poetry is a lonely time. It's reaching into my heart, where I do feel alone.
When I'm up I seldom write poetry.
Thanks
this is so beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Namaste,
Lee
Thank you, Lee. I guess I'm feeling blue, because when I read your comment I cried with gratitude.
Thank you for your confirmation.
Nightwing
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