Sunday 25 October 2015

a lover's reflections

 Realizing Love
by 
Ben Hannigan

He lay there spent in my arms as I traced lines across his skin. His bare flesh warm and comforting. Sprawled on my bed displaying the body I adored and the scratches, the bites that I added. My own stamp on this work of art, he could be carved in stone or cast in bronze, his body so lithe and toned. He is physically perfect to me. I run my hand over his sleeping body and each time I explore I find something new.

He reaches for me in his sleep and I’m here, pulled close as he grips me.  All I can do, all I want to do is just hold him here close to me. The way he touches me when we kiss keeps me here.  The way he holds me through the nights, the way he promises me my dreams and desires. I don’t feel I’m enough for him, but when I challenge him he doesn’t argue.  Instead, he just states what he feels for me. The passion, that drive, and that confidence he is utterly right is enough. Is enough to calm my fears and my doubts and relax knowing I'm his.

As he wakes he reaches for me, I feign sleep because I don’t want to worry him.  Don’t want to admit I stay up to watch him at peace.  He kisses me greedily and I feel myself responding.  My body betraying me in a way I can't be angry about. His kisses flutter across my throat and shoulder, his teeth grazing my neck as his hand wanders lower.  He finds me waiting and wet as I arch towards him my morning nuzzles becoming more strained and breathy.

“Baaaby,” I cry begging, “God please, please just don’t ever stop.” I raise my hips meeting him as he fills me. I’m rolling up his length pulling him close, my lips tugging him into my embrace as I begin to howl.  He is working me. How does he know my body so well after so little time? 

He’s mumbling words I never catch but I feel the intensity of the emotions so well, I don’t need to. I hear his heart race and his breath catch and I know he’s close to that edge and I’m being pulled along behind by his youthful enthusiasm. 

“Come on baby please, I wont break.” This point is always where I take the lead, pulling him close, making him see its OK to want this, to want us as I pull him in deeper. Showing him, making him feel my impending crash and wanting to drag him with me.  He gets his confidence from me here, allowing himself to draw on me to lose himself, to let go.

I pull him close locking my ankles behind his back and allow him to lose his composure as I kiss his chest. And that’s the bit I love most.  That slow hitch of breath, that growl as he fires and the world contracts into just us, just this moment. He lets go and drives me with him as he melts into my body and we kiss. The world dissolves into mumbled words of love, sighs and some small tears as the guilt hits him and I have to be strong to reassure him that it’s OK, that enjoying what I give freely doesn’t mean he is Him. I stroke his back as we cuddle in this moment, realizing I have dealt with my past better than he has.  My years an advantage here and that re-forged determination to teach him and to help him see that this is not only OK, but great.

Oh the end is here, that sweet wonderful end where I’m pulled close and just held.  Where he and I kiss softly. 

“Morning sweetheart” I mumble as I am pulled into his warmth and just allowed to drift into dreams. Secure that I am not alone, not left wanting for at least one more day.

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