Saturday, Sept. 10

He ran his fingers through my hair the way only a man whose heart belonged to one woman for many years knows how to do because she would have taught him if he did not pick up it naturally. Though his heart and memories of the life they shared are broken, some things persist through time as evident by the unconscious rhythm with which he passed his hand through my hair and onto my neck and back, escaping tangles and knots without becoming perturbed.

My estimate is that we had sex for 4 hours before he finally passed out (it’s an estimate because I was already out 90 secs after he finished). I was quite amused how well he wiped down all the areas that developed/accrued slickness (TMI? too bad >:oD ) and the way he slipped one arm under my head to be the big spoon, followed by seeking out my hand (fingers?) through which to entwine his fingers. We napped like that for 3 hours and never once shifted from that position – one of the best hours of sleep I’ve had since Beck told me about the other woman. I do remember jolting awake (where your entire muscle structure tenses and kicks out quickly) at some point and the way he placed his hand on the middle of my back to reassure/soothe me: the same way I had done to Beck on many occasion. Men are simple creatures as evidence when he asked me to scratch his back: I obliged. If it seems odd that I’m not using his name, it’s because I guard the privacy of others the way I do my own.

If I were asked to point out my erogenous zones or describe what turns the flame of desire into white hot passion, I’d have to say it differs from partner to partner (person-to-person?) but the best lovers have honed in on my sweet spots like heat seeking missiles to the world’s most populated cities. S/he can have my body all twisted up and reaching climax without even needing full nudity. With a few kisses, caresses and timed breathes, my head is all loopy from sexual frustration to mind-blowing sexual release. That’s what he did before, during and after – my favorite times are collapsing from sheer exhaustion into hazy wakefulness where we gently get to explore the body and mind, completely vulnerable in a safe haven. The more he gently stroked my mid to upper back while enjoying the weight/fullness of my hair slipping between his fingers, the more I longed to stay on my belly in his bed. I can feel a lover’s eyes drift over my body and the way words are unnecessary sometimes 😉

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