Pausing my distressed state, I distracted myself diving deeply into gastronomy. Immersed and focused on fusing the flavors of carefully selected ingredients, I relished the finished product. Ingesting my creation, finding enjoyment in it, allowing a small measure of an easement to occur in my current state of dysfunction.
The problem at hand begged for inner reflection. Waking every morning was a ritual of opening the eyes and viewing out my bedroom window, just staring at the trees and listening to the sounds of nature. Sometimes for hours. Processing, mulling over and remembering every moment of pain. What felt like agony and torture initially gradually allowed a sense of understanding to move into the grey matter.
A deep need to release anger and frustration created a passion for a familiar act. I required the physical focus, a hungry attack on the flesh. It was an attempt at duplicating intensity, replacing pain with pleasure. And it was had.
(It’s good with you near) But, baby, it’s cold out here (In my arms you’re my dear) But, baby, it’s cold out here (So let’s go inside) Been hoping that you’d say that (Try to warm up) Let’s snuggle together real nice
women will be cold
until consent is given
then men will get warmth
but not before
these are the times now
are to be respected
get with the program
**some social commentary on the recently controversial song “Baby, It’s Cold Out There”
I stir, aroused by the return of past fiery life episodes. The intensity of the morning awakening revives exquisite sensations and feelings; I’m in awe of the desire which returns me and deposits me back into my past.
The pull of his gaze, a finger tracing my mouth and drawing me closer to his lips. Soft, warm wetness, mine mixing with his. Each kiss, tender and fierce, hasten our breaths. There’s an urgency, a tension demanding release, but craving so much more before it comes.
Our hands brush across each other, clutching then releasing at the subtle moments. Sighs and moans escape our lips when the gentleness or coarseness reaches a threshold in our bodies. Arching our bodies, pressing closer, the bulge of desire wanting to be cupped. It all feels so quick but in slow-motion. The haze of excitement moves us, our bodies following an unscripted dialogue, but knowing exactly what to say.
We explore with our eyes and undress each other with our hands. Our clothing is our only barrier, so much is already understood – the hunger to taste each other, the desire bound tightly until the right moment it can escape, the secret carnal needs – all are free in this moment.
Our tongues speak the language of sensuality, experiencing color in what we taste. The room feels engulfed by us, our red-hot fluidity. We vibrate with the energy of our imminent coupling. Every cell in our being is aroused with anticipation, every hair prickles with electricity; our bodies in tune to receive what the other has to give.
Deliciousness and moans escape our lips as our limbs intertwine, feeling the smoothness of our skin as we embrace deeper into one another. Oh, the strength of our muscles tighten around each other, neither leaving intensity behind. The excitement builds, and the urgency to satisfy rises up in us both. We are open and ready now. Our passion is strong; our desires need expression.
Our eyes meet each other hungrily, penetrating the depths of our beings. It sends us deeper into our emotional hot bed inside; the tryst becomes more and more intense. The intuitive knowing what needs to be touched and when delivers us to even more heights. What feels like invisible fire engulfs us both as we aim to reach the crucial element of our desires.