Intimacy
By judd
- 275 reads
22nd March 2003
Kashka in mind, once more, cannot resist phoning and arrange to go out
for a walk, it's a sunny day. Panic to get there as soon possible and
get anxious about the reception, mouth is very dry. Why do I feel it
necessary to let rip on my loved one, something in mind which needs to
be let out, mostly justification of my intentions and no doubt
inferring a put-down of others.
Kashka is sat on the chair on the terrace and I glimpse her exposed
thighs. How I yearn to feel the flesh of the woman who intoxicates me,
to touch again that most secret, moist and sensitive part. I am
intimidated by her strength and her eyes that possess and obsess,
driving me through the pain and chaos of jealousy and anger towards her
encouragement, cruelly taken away in the same moment. Will I ever
become accustomed to this raging passion, patience is restless, silence
trying to preserve the bond and it seems all I can do is just about
hang on to my sanity.
Her first words in the car are about the good weather predicted for
tomorrow and that maybe we might think of spending a day at the beach.
This calms the anguish, her desire to be with me.
Sitting by the lake, I'm pondering about why anything I write, doesn't
feel too real, an idealisation in retrospect and not capturing the
sensation of the moment. Is it possible to describe an incident with
words that may relate the reader to the actuality? Here I go again,
what is the assumption about reader, it's just me. Not being honest,
not coming from within but being converted based on habits and terribly
influenced by the material that I'm currently reading. I should just be
able to say what I currently ploughing through.
A definite tendency for certain ideas of the moment to stick in the
mind.
With an uncomfortable situation I seem to need to assuage it with some
reasoned scenario that justifies the previous actions when the true
nature is probably anything but. Why is it so difficult to be
completely open, what am I afraid of, why lies and why fabricate fresh
ones, because I think that's what's expected of me.
Rounded the day off with a trip to the pictures.
It makes me feel so indescribably good when her fingers touch and
caress my own; shattering the defence with a joy that opens a door and
life pours in to a frozen soul in a dreary and worthless desert.
We parted without intimacies which was a torment, when all I wanted to
do was take her in my arms and make love.
Phoned when I got back to my apartment and not being able to control
the irritation of disappointment, it turned into an exchange of brutal
truths.
I was so wet from leakage and masturbated forcefully whilst tightly
hugging the teddy bear Kashka had bought me.
The day in the fresh air had quite a soporific effect, drifting off
uncontrollably, I was grateful for the respite.
23rd March 2003
We didn't go to the beach, preferring to live each sensitive moment at
the park in eager entanglement of intimate tender enchantment with the
minds of sentimental youth and surrendering to its power; arriving home
around sunset; impatient to relish the restless expectation.
Her nakedness, different, I desired just to look, now it was for me and
I ask her to stroke herself. Her fingers are so delicate, I place her
other hand on my sex, penetrate
my fingers to the rhythm of her strokes and wander my lips from her
navel to her breasts and bite the skin of her heart. I want her to be
mine, forever mine. I place her stroking fingers in my mouth;
continuing to caress her wetness with my sex; lifting her hips with
clutching hands, I slowly, slowly slide in. The pleasure of probing
eyes, the whisperings, my hands on her face, the warmth of her lips,
her inner tightening to swelling thrusts of sweet violence, the tender
gripping aggression; cries of a pleasure that is almost hurting.
Nothing can erase this moment, it will continue to the end, it will be
forever.
Kashka will, in that moment, be mine forever.
Sleep disturbed, a startled awakening, a momentary awareness, clutching
and grasping, moulding togetherness.
24th March 2003
Isn't life wonderful waking up next to the warm flesh of the most
beautiful creation, someone so special, she was made just for me. Is it
possible to love someone more than yourself?
We have to part.
I ask if we are to see each other this evening, 'perhaps, call me
later, around nine, we'll see'. This tormenting not knowing for another
six hours, is what? Is what makes me love her more. I cannot wait,
leave a couple of messages and around half past eight, a seeming
eternity, hear that voice which delightfully excites me. O! I cannot
possibly begin to describe how it makes me feel to know that she is
coming.
I feel it necessary to relate an afternoon incident with an ex, who
didn't want to spend the day on her own, some sort of panic attack and
asked if she could have a lie down on the bed. After stripping down to
her panties in the bedroom, she returned to the lounge and prostrated
herself, somewhat provocatively on the couch, encouraging with 'I
thought I'd give you one last chance to see my breasts'. After
reminding her that Pablo was due to arrive and he may well be taken
aback on entering this scene; she bum-wigglingly returns to the bedroom
and thankfully drifts off to sleep.
Pablo arrives and as per usual we gossip for an age about this and
that, the usual reasoned idealistic mental acrobatic stuff. Paola, the
ex, wakes up after a couple of hours dossing and decides she's going to
get a taxi home. Thank fuck for that.
I had no choice in telling Kashka about this happening, Paola is a
friend of Kashka, that's how we met in the first place, and I thought
it would be better coming from me now rather than face the inquisition
of why I said nothing; Kashka would surely hear of the no doubt
embellished events through the local network.
The ensuing inquest didn't assuage Kashka's imaginings, questions like
'did you cuddle her whilst she was undressed' and relentlessly on and
on. Disgruntled, Kashka got into bed with all her attire on, intimacy
was not on her agenda.
25th March 2003
Packing up day; wake up call around midnight from Kashka; everything is
my fault, every instance of disloyalty, betrayal whatever has been
dragged up and is now the cause of her suffering. I don't need this, I
really don't.
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