A shift in my reality
I don’t even know where to begin to tell the story of my date with Tori. Pieces of the night swirl around in my head so that to write it from beginning to end would feel contrived and strange.
I remember:
How exhilarating it was to be walking hand in hand with her in the dark.
Cupping her face in my hands as I kissed her.
Her hands gripping me, trying to touch as much of me as she could.
The feel of her nails running up and down my arms.
Laughing at the ridiculousness of two grown women being “chased” out of the park by a lady cop.
How some moments the kissing and touching was sweet and gentle and then passionate and intense.
How I melted when she grabbed a fist full of my hair and bit my neck.
Marveling at the softness of her.
Wanting more.
And I can’t stop thinking about her. And I wonder when I’ll see her again. And a thousand other thoughts, churning around in my head.
[...] instant we were naked together in bed. He didn’t need to spend any time getting me ready, she had already taken care of that. He climbed on top of me and entered my wet and ready [...]
I read your posts today, and I agree. . . it *is* hard to describe it all or figure out where to start. There’s no way to write and do justice to:
~ the smell of honeysuckle in the air while we walked in the park
~the easy flow of our conversations about everything from motherhood to homeschooling to how dirty we get with our husbands
~your sweet scent in my car the next day
~how much I wanted to lay you down and bite you hard, but couldn’t find a comfortable enough position
~how awkward I felt and how comfortable at the same time
~our hair falling in our faces. .. how we kept brushing each other’s hair out of the way for more kisses
~ your sweet moans and sighs
~you saying I’m Sweet and me thinking, “not really. . . I’m pretty dirty, but shy”