Aching for You

I ache for you....

My body aches for you. I close my eyes and feel your arms around me, your hard cock inside me, your lips on mine, and it only reminds me that you're not here with me now.

My heart aches for you, too. I remember how close we felt when we were last together, how neither one of us wanted to leave, how I felt so safe and connected with you. It just doesn't feel right to be separate from you.

I look at the calendar and search for a day and time that we might be able to be together again, starting with this very moment and moving forward in time a half day at a time. No, you're working on that day and we're both working the next day. You have a family commitment that day, I promised my son some time on that afternoon. As my eyes scan further and further away from now, the aching intensifies. If I can just find a time, then I can tell myself I only have to wait until then. The sense of distance between us would shrink from feeling like forever to a more manageable, bearable time.

The problem with experiencing a perfect connection with you is that I feel your absence more intensively when we're apart. I feel. That's what I was missing before. I was numb and overworked, trying to drown out the steady and low rumbling of awareness that something was missing from my life. You were missing.

I told you that you are the one I've been looking for. I was afraid you'd be scared away by my emotion, that you'd run or step back, but you didn't. Instead, you wrapped your arms around me and pulled me even closer, pulling me further away from that numb, empty place and closer to you.

You physically occupy only a corner of my life. The rest is inhabited by my children, my husband, my work, my friends, and hundreds of obligations - some small and insignificant, some life-changing. You only occupy a small corner, but your presence brightens all of it. It's like you pulled off the dark shade that was filtering the light. I saw you, and I also started to see vivid colors and textures in all the other parts of my life. No longer numb, I see and feel everything. I'm alive again.

But now I'm also aware of more, and I ache for your presence when you are not here. I try to refocus and think about the many things I love about you - your confidence, the sound of your voice when you're whispering in my ear, the way you make me laugh, your intelligence, the stories you tell me, your laughter.....the list goes on and on, and eventually the aching subsides and is replaced by warmth and contentment.

I know that I only occupy a small corner of your life, too, and I'm ok with that. In a strange way, our relationship works because we both have full lives. I know that the strength of your marriage is what makes my corner of your life secure, and that giving our home lives enough attention is what allows us to be together. I don't want that to change. Most people wouldn't understand that, but I know you do.

Then I get a message from you letting me know you're thinking of me, too, and the aching diminishes a little more. I know we're still connected. I still want to feel your body next to mine, but I know I can wait now, and the anticipation will only make our next rendezvous sweeter.

I close my eyes again and picture you. I don't carry a photo of you because that wouldn't be safe, but it doesn't matter. I have hundreds of perfect images of you in mind. My favorite is the one of you laying next to me right after we've made love. Your eyes are closed and you look totally relaxed and content. Your arms are around me and every now and then you turn to me and kiss me.

Ahhh....finally, I feel you near me again and the aching is completely gone.

At least for now.