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| Subject: HE... | |
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Author: Dawn |
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Date Posted: 02:22:30 05/20/05 Fri HE… Calls…while I’m talking with a girlfriend. We meet again, buddy to buddy, and I look for counsel for this new experience of His anger and frustration and hurt at my taking attention off him for the first time in months, embracing new relating in the wake of “boyfriend” status. He smiles and laughs over the phone line, giving me just what I need. No answers, but steady friendship. Connected. Playful. Truthful. Complete surrender to my desire for openness. And the appeasing comment of “interesting about you and X.” He, enters. Kisses me. Kisses her, and kisses her some more. I notice the difference in length of time-connection, yet am turned-on by their sharing and relating. Only a hint of jealousy, and I playfully express it to him later. 99.5% -- I feel gratitude to be in their presence, her presence, his presence. It is copasetic. He…never acknowledged it or me anyway…but perhaps I am unfair. There are times when the veil parts, and we meet, and I melt. Surrendered to his ancient call, his being. Bare… He shoots below the beltline. Snarling, biting, ripping my flesh…sinking deep inside with his talons. And I want HIM. I want to devour him…or is it to be devoured? Am I the prey, or the predator? Where is HE? Will HE appear? He is somewhere else, deep, mmmm…down, and down some more. My left breast burns, still stored there, feeling his tired achy battered sore body…ready for some TLC. HE provides – a massage during the break, brother to brother. Thank you, friend, a role not mine to play tonight. Does the body matter, anyway? I am indifferent, my defense against his pretense of indifference to me. But I saw his window of vulnerability open, before he slammed it shut. I felt it, I know it, Beloved. I see you, clearly. Must I go in after you? This house is burning, my friend. And I am grateful. The kaleidoscope of colors that I feel and see with you blinds me with its brilliance. Learning to love your anger, your sadness, your digs, your simple ways, the way you love the physicality of a fuck, the way you shy away from receiving my love, the way you want it and don’t even recognize it…but I love you anyway... HE…a boy, the forbidden fruit, peers into the chink in my armor, and it dissolves. I am bare before him, layers melting, feeling the wall, watching it dissolve layer after layer. I take him inside me, enfolded, in rapture. Feeling his cock inside my pussy, though we are fully clothed curled up in his lap on the couch. My rules about younger men – let alone boys – fall away. Yet, he is not a boy…his maturity that men of 52-year bodies have not, shines with brilliance. He wraps me, embraces me, takes me, seduces me… I’m so close to "getting that room," Amanda, but my new commitment to “friendship” has some clout when my mind enters. He...talks and kisses and hugs me goodnight. He wants to have another OM before our OM on Wednesday. He chides me about that bottle of wine in my cupboard, and reminds me to keep it until HE is dining again with me...coming in, coming in... HE stays…I am bathed in the beauty of surrender merging in surrender. He, the brother, strokes my foot while we are making-out on the couch…this is so easy…so very easy…why have I created such obstacles to receive, to surrender…until this moment. Alleluia…Alleluia…let it be… His other brother, behind me in the parking lot, caressing and loving my spine, my being. I am embraced, sandwiched in love by the One. He shows himself. I surrender. This looks nothing like what I imagined…is this Her world, or mine? Is there any difference? I get in my car. She winks and smiles. I drive away. I sigh. I can’t believe the goodness of my life. I wonder if he’ll call…and if HE’ll call…and if I can surrender, and Surrender, and SURRENDER… [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |