The first time I had him inside me. I was lounging low and careless on the couch, legs wrapped around him. We had been kissing, desperately and passionately grabbing at each other. I don’t remember our clothes coming off, or even if they were off.
He knelt before me, pushed himself excruciatingly slowly into me, joined at the cock and cunt.
He closed his eyes, his head went back, a blind prayer offered to the ceiling. He moaned. He pulled back, thrust forward again, slow, all sensation and pleasure, hands on my hips holding me steady.
I watched him lose himself and suddenly felt alone, lonely. I waited for him to come back for me. He didn’t, lost in his own feeling. His cock and his hands kept us connected, but he was gone, his pleasure all his own. The sex was somehow a thing separate from me. He disappeared, or perhaps I did.
I leaned forward, grabbed the back of his neck, squeezed. He stopped moving, opened his eyes, looked at me.
“Hey, you know it’s me,” I said. More of a question than a fact.
He held my gaze, I’m not sure he understood, but he knew I needed something, knew better than to gloss over it.
He looked at me. Really looked at me.
“I know,” he said. Affirmation, if not understanding.
“Then kiss me.”
I bought deep red lipstick just so I could do this for special readers who want something very personal.
I guessed his age at late 20s: He’d just turned 30. He made a joke about his immaturity giving it away. Which was amusing, but entirely untrue. He’s an articulate, smart, engaging man who has only been in my inbox for a very short while, but already I enjoy him a lot.
I explained it like this:
…(generalisation warning…) some younger men have a quality about them that gets lost as they get older. It’s hard to put a finger on what it is exactly. There is a particular way that they look at the world, and it’s quite lovely. I *want* to say ‘naivety’, but it’s not quite right because it has too many implications beyond what I mean.
Perhaps more accurate to say that they have an honest wide-eyed and genuine way of exploring, a way of interacting that hasn’t yet been worn down with age and experience. They haven’t yet learnt to be defensive, to pave their way with expectations, aren’t yet jaded.
I feel it as a kind of ‘breath of fresh air’, all crisp and shiny and ready to bloom.
You have it.
I’m lucky. I don’t get a lot of hate mail despite my prolific presence on the internet.
But I do get some. From strangers with whom I have never interacted as far as I know.
The last couple:
“You sound high maintenance and up yourself” – 58M
“Old disgusting bitch” – 31M
These are mild, I know many people get much worse. I recorded this one that was so over the top that it made me laugh.
I don’t react with hurt or shock: mostly I’m just baffled by it. The ‘why’ is beyond my grasp. I just can’t imagine the kind of person who would behave this way.
I want to ask them WHY they would send such a thing to a stranger that they don’t know. Just… why?
What was it about about me that made them feel compelled to throw their opinions at me? Have I espoused some viewpoint somewhere that they simply cannot abide? Have I presented some version of myself that they feel really needs to be taken down a peg or two? Are they projecting something onto me that they hate so much that they can’t possibly keep it to themselves? Do I represent something so terrible that they feel they simply *must* address it in such a way?
Though really the question I want to ask even more is: What is it about THEM that makes them feel compelled to write something nasty to some random person on the internet that they don’t even know. Does it make them feel better about themselves? Does it give them some respite from whatever unhappiness they have going on in their lives? Does it somehow quell something that is gnawing at their insides?
Of course, I never ask them these questions because I don’t want to engage with people who are capable of behaving that way and I doubt I could get any insight from trying.
And sometimes I want to send them a little note, without any irony or sarcasm:
“I’m sorry you are so unhappy, I hope your life gets better.”
I’m having a problem with my comments at the moment. If you submit a comment, it IS working, I AM getting it, but for some reason, new comments aren’t displaying. Until later, at some random time. When they DO display.
I’m trying to fix it, but I didn’t want anyone to get frustrated thinking that their comments were going into the void and then getting annoyed and submitting it again (and again and again and ARRRGGGHHH JUST FORGET IT!!).
They aren’t disappearing.
They are just hiding temporarily…
ETA 8 Apr: This has been fixed. So yay!
And the winner of my hard copy book is…
*dramatic drum roll*
*fumbles with the envelope*
** Chris Wallace! **
I’ll contact you to arrange delivery!
Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to comment *smile*.