To Be Titled

It’s been a long time since I had a first kiss. Longer still since I’ve been with two men with only a few hours of separation. And I can barely remember the last time I fucked in a truck. But on an evening a few nights ago I experienced all three.

From a distance he could almost pass for Ian. The height, build, close cropped dark hair, slightly crooked smile… they all have a close resemblance to the Australian. Except for the eyes. Where Ian’s twinkled blue, Joe’s are a deep brown. Almost black.

This is not a new revelation. I knew Joe before I met the Australian. And after, when our paths crossed, I couldn’t help but notice the similarity.

When we met almost a decade ago he was in the middle of a separation and I in a committed relationship. But there was a spark, a rich undercurrent, the velvety tease of desire. Witty banter lead to flirting laced with thick innuendo which gave way to long looks and intentional unnecessary brushes of skin.  Continue reading

Why Does He Still Make Me Ache

With my Apple Music playing on the Soft Pop station (don’t judge, it was background music while I was working) I pecked away at several projects with urgent deadlines. Work was foremost in my mind. And then the rich crooning of Roberta Flack comes through the tiny speaker…
The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the endless skies
The first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move in my hand
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command my love
And the first time ever I lay with you
I felt your heart so close to mine
And I knew our joy would fill the earth
And last till the end of time my love
The first time ever I saw your face
Your face, your face
It was as if I was instantly transported to that moment over five years ago when I met HIM. The first time ever I saw HIS face. The one I fell for totally and completely almost instantly. The one whose face I will never again see. Will he always make me ache? When I’m a very old woman, who has lived a full, meaningful life, will part of me still pine? I don’t understand it. But tonight I’m feeding it. Roberta Flack is on repeat.