Strange days. A lot of thought on my body. A lot of need from it. See, it hasn't been touched and pampered in nearly two years. All those two years came battering on my door a few days back. I told my friends I needed severely sexual touching. I cried. Tried to write. Everything I wrote looked small. I appeared to myself, in my body. I felt strong. My skin is scarred and reddened and stubbly. AndI love it. I have never been so confident as I was when sensory need was pushing me. I thought of burnt-orange flowers. I thought of his hands under my hair. Of the salty dampness that fingered my spine. I thought of his scent and his shape.
And I breathed.
1 comment:
hmmmmmm ........well im nt sure if it is an intrusion into a female thing ... but i believe sometimes it is this kind of a forced drought which can give you a lot of satisfaction .... you know it yourself that being a woman in the male dominated society , you can get what you want if you choose to be dominated .......but dont you think there is weird sense of freedom in his prolonged wait ... easier said than done but trust me , i have imlemented it on myself , a forced retention , a change of priorities and it has worked wonders..........
yield to only him who knows what it means
chao
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