Thursday, October 14, 2004
shy
it had been so long since his hands were on me. the last time a hug in the airport, one where i didn't want to let go, to walk towards the gates. something around 4 months later, i knew that i would want him again. i wanted so badly for his lips to be on mine, his hands roaming under my shirt, pinching nipples and breathing in my ear as i moaned back into his. there were some days where i couldn't take it anymore. where i touched myself thinking about him -- his cock in me -- and the days i would have to wait till i could feel his weight crushing me. the comfort of his movements of hands, hips and thighs. everything touching.
then the jitters started. what if things were different? i was scared that things had changed between us and the passion that was there before would be gone the second time around. would he feel the same? would things feel the same between us? it was the night before coming back to boston, and i couldn't sleep anticipating our next moves. i couldn't wait to see him, touch him.
i remember his swagger. he doesn't walk. he strides confidently towards me and he presses his hands against my back and his lips against mine. there's a crowd, but he doesn't care. and the heat feels so good. he feels so good. i know i want him, but i'm shy.
when it's just the two of us on my new dorm bed with the squeaky plastic matress, i can't remember what to do. i can't remember what he likes and what he doesn't. but it all sinks back into me, but i'm shy. i don't know if it's okay to kiss him and touch him again. it's been so long. too long and i have to learn it all over again. i have to get used to his breath, his lips, his hands & his touch. his weight on me doesn't feel the same as i remember -- there's something different -- but who says that it's bad? he has hips that i don't remember. bones that i don't remember being able to feel. he's been working out and he's hard all over.
the kisses take time to warm up to. it's like visiting home for the first time in months and it feels different even it nothing has changed. i feel like it's the very first time all over again. like this is our first kiss in that kitchen, the night that i was a bit too drunk and you were eager to touch me and you said i moved my leg up and down yours. everything feels warm & tight & new.
when he slips into me, it hurts and i want to say no. but instead, i take it in and i move with him. he has to move slowly, make me used to him again. his size, strength and weight. it's all new. soon, i want him harder and there are only yes's and moans and oh god's. i don't want him to stop, because when he pulls out there feels like something is missing. i need to be filled up. always.
we fuck. over and over. each time, moving with him, because it's pain and pleasure. it's been too long and my body has forgotten what it feels like to be filled. what it's like not to be empty.
¶ 8:38 PM
|
it had been so long since his hands were on me. the last time a hug in the airport, one where i didn't want to let go, to walk towards the gates. something around 4 months later, i knew that i would want him again. i wanted so badly for his lips to be on mine, his hands roaming under my shirt, pinching nipples and breathing in my ear as i moaned back into his. there were some days where i couldn't take it anymore. where i touched myself thinking about him -- his cock in me -- and the days i would have to wait till i could feel his weight crushing me. the comfort of his movements of hands, hips and thighs. everything touching.
then the jitters started. what if things were different? i was scared that things had changed between us and the passion that was there before would be gone the second time around. would he feel the same? would things feel the same between us? it was the night before coming back to boston, and i couldn't sleep anticipating our next moves. i couldn't wait to see him, touch him.
i remember his swagger. he doesn't walk. he strides confidently towards me and he presses his hands against my back and his lips against mine. there's a crowd, but he doesn't care. and the heat feels so good. he feels so good. i know i want him, but i'm shy.
when it's just the two of us on my new dorm bed with the squeaky plastic matress, i can't remember what to do. i can't remember what he likes and what he doesn't. but it all sinks back into me, but i'm shy. i don't know if it's okay to kiss him and touch him again. it's been so long. too long and i have to learn it all over again. i have to get used to his breath, his lips, his hands & his touch. his weight on me doesn't feel the same as i remember -- there's something different -- but who says that it's bad? he has hips that i don't remember. bones that i don't remember being able to feel. he's been working out and he's hard all over.
the kisses take time to warm up to. it's like visiting home for the first time in months and it feels different even it nothing has changed. i feel like it's the very first time all over again. like this is our first kiss in that kitchen, the night that i was a bit too drunk and you were eager to touch me and you said i moved my leg up and down yours. everything feels warm & tight & new.
when he slips into me, it hurts and i want to say no. but instead, i take it in and i move with him. he has to move slowly, make me used to him again. his size, strength and weight. it's all new. soon, i want him harder and there are only yes's and moans and oh god's. i don't want him to stop, because when he pulls out there feels like something is missing. i need to be filled up. always.
we fuck. over and over. each time, moving with him, because it's pain and pleasure. it's been too long and my body has forgotten what it feels like to be filled. what it's like not to be empty.
¶ 8:38 PM
|
