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v u l v a l i c i o u s

when there's nothing to say that isn't trite
2004-10-23 // 2:05 a.m.

It seems silly to get excited all afresh, but that's what I want to do. It starts with her eyes and moves out and down. Her whole face, that look she gives me, gazing up from my stomach, so enamored with the process of fucking me. I turn my head away, start to feel giddy. I'm biting into the fleshy part of my hand as her thick fingers move inside of me. Later, we hold our hands together the way children do, comparing hand sizes. It means something different when someone's hands have been inside you.

She's just a little bigger than me. Big enough that I can't quite flip her. I burrow into her shoulder instead, breathing in the way she smells, the specific clean scent of a new person.

Meanwhile, I stop myself from saying too much. I don't want her to know exactly how excited I am, that I tell my faraway friends that I'm seeing someone. That I've sent them her picture with captions about how cute she is. I don't let on that I like her so much I don't quite know what to do with myself. It's not supposed to be serious, really. Not yet.

Something in me says Not Ever. I can feel the possibility of her looking up from her coffee and asking me to leave. Even more than that I can hear her telling me that we can't, or she won't: Sex is out of the question now; let's just be friends.

But seeing her is totally different than that. She gets the same look I do, that one of shy excitement, genuine, when we see each other. Today she took my hand and kissed it from across her kitchen table. She started on the flat of the back and then kissed my fingers with that delicate mouth of hers, so soft and round, her O lips that come together sweetly, but with teeth behind.

She looked up at me over the hand, almost the same look she gives me when she's inside me. I could dissect the moment, break it down so that it's layers of learned reactions. But it felt warm and lovely, and I don't want to think of anything but the feeling of falling, of burying myself in warm blankets with her at my side.

back-forth

i travel backwards in time, but dream of going forward - 2006-11-21
The Gentrification of a Perfectly Good Cunt - 2006-04-02
apologia, not apology - 2006-03-06
karen carpeter loops and the space time continuum - 2005-12-19
kissing like you mean it, even when you don't necessarily know what "it" is - 2005-04-16