As I sit here, I can feel the wetness against my flesh. Cold against warm skin, but inside I’m dead. Nothing makes sense anymore, nothing, and I am left with nothing but the wetness of my own tears to comfort me.
I have, after all, no right to feel sorry for myself. I may not be happy but I am healthy, which is more than can be said for you. I watched these past few months as your battled your health, body and soul, and I’ve never once seen you shed your own tears. Only when I am alone can I shed my own, so perhaps you do feel this wetness as it drips down your own cheeks when you are alone too. As the sobs come harder, I try to stifle them, but I can’t. Somewhere in those tears is a relief, a sense of letting go of all the things I have for so long held onto. All the torments, deceptions and false hopes that we have been given. Only when I indulge can the veil be lifted and my true emotions allowed to meander through the corners of my mind.
Their are corners that scare me, corners that make me happy, but one thing is for sure in everyone of those corner, you are present. The thought that one day, you might not be fills me with more fear, than any man ever could. My own mind plays tricks on me tonight as I sit in the darkness and recall happier times. Times before the bedside vigils, times when we laughed till we cried tears of happiness, not tears of sadness as they have turned into these days.
I recall the first time we met. Our first kiss, the feel of your stubbly cheeks pressing against mine as we cuddled seeking warmth from each other, in the coldness of that long winter night. That was a night that neither of us were ever likely to forget. That stupid, funny night where fate threw us together.
If I had not known Dave and you Sandra, I would never have been able to shed these tears this evening, I would never have known the light that you shine so brightly into my life for all these years. That crazy night, sitting in that tent, nothing but a small hanging lantern to light our desire, but it was lit alright and it’s not dulled since. I recall your arms around me, so strong. A feeling of security like I had never felt before as you simply held me. We both knew we wanted more, but we were both afraid to take it further, scared that in some way we would taint the moment, leave a scar that could not be removed.
Then it happened, you kissed me and the spark that was burning lit up brighter than any battery operated lantern ever could. We became a mash of lips, hands and fumbled attempts to undress one another. I suddenly needed to feel your naked flesh against mine. With those lips you unleashed my sexual appetite, all those nights yearning for your touch.
Desiring your kiss, to feel your lips against mine once more. Our tongues entwined, like two snakes mating, neither wanting to leave the other. Your hands searching out the fleshier parts of my body, parts that no one but me had touched before, but as your hands reached down it was as though they abolished all fear, leaving nothing but that warm feeling that was growing in the pit of my stomach.
We fumbled, around in the still half darkness of that tent till we were nothing more that two pieces of flesh, neither of us really know what we were doing, just knowing that we had to do it. As two sleeping bags merged into one, the need grew stronger. We both felt the urgency of that need, nothing less would suffice. I could feel the wetness between my legs as you touched me there. The need growing more fervent with each stroke, my longing building higher and faster than any skyscraper in the city we had left behind that weekend. As you stroked, I felt your purpose, and it had not been for your own desire to be quelled but mine. Your fingers probed so skillfully, finding my clit, slowly building up the crescendo that I knew was going to hit. Like a musician working in perfect harmony with my body, your fingers brought me to orgasm. As the notes you were creating hit my brain, I tried to stifle the noise that was coming from my mouth. You saw my need and pressed your lips on mine, to help, but once this orchestra of feeling had been unleashed there was no stopping it.
I held my breath, feeling the delicious notes as they licked from the tips of my toes to the top of my head and then let go. Immersing myself in the feeling. Hanging onto each note as though it was my last, until you entered me for the first time. Gently knocking down that one last trait of morality that I might have left. I gave it to you, body and soul.
Two had become one that night and as we had laid there in each others arms, I had felt the wetness of my tears run down my cheeks, just they did now. The memories washing over me like a tidal wave of relief. I knew at that moment no matter what happened, we would always be one, just as we were that first night in the tent and no matter what life and it’s cruel twists could throw at us, we could never ever be truly parted.
This story was inspired by a blog post by the wonderfully talented Alison Tyler. The post has since been removed but if you were lucky enough to read it you will know where the inspiration came from. It was also written in response to a prompt on Wicked Wednesday. Now you’ve read my entry why not take a hop across and see all the other amazing entries, simply click the image below: