How it feels to be in love with you
A story of love and sex
I feel the heat of your spirit, your heart, your passion, even as you walk past me. It calls to me on the very air itself. There is a spark in the unspoken connection between us, something that we know has been, that isn’t now, but that yet will be. Your scent lingers as deep as a kiss and evocative, like fire pulsing through my veins. Every touch from you is like an addictive syrup of love, a nectar that you dose out, the required medication for my madness.
I taste all of your breath, pulling it into me like someone gasping for air to live. Each touch and whisper and soft voiced concern surrounds and comforts me, the reassurance of care that keeps me going, keeps me believing. Not really understanding yet I know this must be, it is right, there cannot be another like this. Giving faith and hope one last time, knowing that satisfaction and happiness can only come with complete surrender – but why is it so hard? Surely we of all people should understand one another, wants, dreams, desires – fears? But knowledge is power and that worries the intelligent and rightfully wary – cautiously we venture into the deep and gently, tenderly feel for one another, not wanting to tear asunder our known thin skins and rip apart the wounds we see in one another.
To slip between the sheets, lay in the warmth. Not only physical but knowledge of love and concern and emotion, something there that has given another chance, saying that yes maybe after everything, things can be ok. A flickering small flame of hope, flickering in the wind and threatening to be defeated at any moment but struggling and so determined to hold on. This has to be worth it – the feelings, we know they are not like any others.
To hold, to stroke, to kiss – these are things longed for but feared. The terrifying leap to potential abandon, rejection, neglect – to lay out oneself on the line and face the cold harsh and often blunt feeling of one so alike it is like looking into a mirror.
The hard times were necessary, the fights callous and cold – the counterbalance being the meltingly hot fire of the passion that fuels both. To feel is to live. What is life without love? Open myself up to this, the pain, the potential to be hurt, to suffer. It is all on the same journey. Better a hurt from trying than a life shut off in defence without even giving this a chance.
Gentle skin touches. Finger tips trailing over your skin. The feel of your lips on my flesh, then on my lips, so softly. Fingernails so subtly and erotically exploring the boundaries of my clothing, investigating how they are to be removed, slowly, gently, revealing more flesh for playtime and pleasure and all that lies beneath your seductive and arousing fingertips. Lips straying to my neck as you lose yourself in the moment, my head rolling back, hair free and untamed as ever, willing you to take me as your own and be the passionate fiery love match I adore.
So these are the dreams I shall have tonight… how it feels to be in love.