Quote of the Week

"It is with our passions, as it is with fire and water, they are good servants but bad masters"

Aesop

Sunday 14 June 2009

A Weekend of Fun and Intimacy

A weekend of fun and intimacy.

When does the weekend truly start? Well I suppose for those in employment, it probably finishes when the computer or pickaxe or whatever is put down on a Friday evening, or Thursday, if you are lucky enough to work a four day week that excludes Friday.

So if we take this as the definition, then my weekend started rather well.

I got up on Friday morning and wrote a couple of responses to articles that I had recently read. Then I spoke to my lovely man about the potential of traipsing through the snow to see him. Having had a luxurious, hot bath, I jumped in the car and headed north.

Even the usual nightmare of traffic had dissipated, leaving me calm and collected as I arrived at his house, even more so when I noticed two figures leaving his house which meant that even for a short time, we were going to be alone.

I think everyone’s weekend should start in the peaceful and pleasant manner. I think everyone’s weekend should continue with the next phase – a glorious orgasmic fuck.

No sooner had I got into the house that my knickers were down and his hands were firmly up my cunt. Now, I am in the delightful position of being able to read my body rather well these days, and so knew that a wet and gushy cum was fairly imminent.

Without knowing how long we were going to be alone in the house, it was not feasible to rush off to bed, mores the pity, so I simply removed my trousers, sat down on the toilet seat, enabling him to finger fuck me to his heart’s content until I gushed into the loo.

Satisfied of course, with such a release of sexual excitement, I still needed more, and the sight of his utterly wonderful cock in front of me simply begged for my lips to encircle it.

I adore the taste of his cock. I love sliding my tongue along his shaft and feeling it tremor at my touch.

And so often, those magnificent balls get missed. I think some women are far too interested in the cock that they forget that there is a bundle of sensuality underneath that equally and deservedly needs some special attention. Grasping his balls, either directly or when they are in his jeans, is a blissful pleasure. I love to feel them tighten and move as I squeeze them as tightly as I dare. I adore having his cock in my mouth whilst I am gladly and enthusiastically clenching his bollocks in my hands.

Foreplay is so exciting. Even when there is little time available, this touching and licking and arousal is so important, at least as far as I am concerned. But of course, the real joy of foreplay is that it does what it says on the box. It is the forerunner to the very best thing in life – penetrative sex. My salvation! My joy!

On this particular occasion, I turned around and leant my hands on the toilet seat, ready for my lover to enter me from behind and give me a right good seeing to. Firmly and comfortingly, he entered into me and fucked me right, simultaneously gentle and energetically. On realising he was about to cum, I turned around so that he could wank his stuff onto my awaiting tits. They utmost pleasure of feeling his spunk slipping down my cleavage is indescribable, and sitting here writing it makes my pussy spring to life.

More sex was required after yet more stimulation and a decent soaking of a towel ensued in the bathroom. By this point, I was totally blissed out, in my other world where only I can be. My satori. As I came again, I was screeching at the wonderment of the moment that was utterly engulfing me. Such sexual bliss is so life-giving.

But funnily enough, all of this is not really the point of my writing.

It is merely an account of what happened in its full and glorious moment.

It is the intimacy that I want to talk about.

One could argue that there is nothing more intimate than sharing bodily juices with someone that you care about, and indeed this is the case. But you could have the most fantastic sex in the world, and it would somehow be less significant if you couldn’t also be totally yourself in the company of your lover before, during and after sex.

It is this ease of friendship, the camaraderie of shared humour, the lack of concern when there is silence, the ability to just babble away on a range of themes that makes the intimacy that more intense, and bizarrely makes the sexual act more meaningful.

A friend of mine, a very close one, came around to my house one day. I hadn’t seen her for some time, and she had been out the night before, returning home in the early hours.

We sat and had a meal together and then listened to some music whilst reading the Sunday papers. Both lying down on the two settees in the room, we simply drifted off into our own little worlds. She fell fast asleep whilst I got on with some more reading.

On awaking, she was almost horrified at what she deemed to be the rudeness of falling asleep. I told her instantly that I rather interpreted it as a complement, i.e. that she felt comfortable enough with my company and in my house to drift off into the Land of Nod.

Subsequent times at my house have also resorted to her falling asleep, as have others before and since. But I have to say, it never bother me. I do indeed take this as an acknowledgement of the closeness that I share with the few people who have nodded off in my company. Of course, it could be interpreted differently – that they are simply bored of my droning on!

Anyway, I still prefer the former rationale, and certainly, I was not too perturbed about falling asleep at my lover’s house. I have done so on plenty of occasions before; post coital. But this was slightly different. I just felt a need to doze, listening to music whilst he got on with something else.

And I am so grateful that he too saw this as a complement, that I was indeed comfortable and relaxed enough to simply feel at ease, be myself and not have any inhibitions or worries about how I ought to behave. Intimacy in this context means simply being yourself. And for me, this, coupled with sensual and meaningful sex is the epitome of intimacy.

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I suspect that there is a slight possibility that this is what other people may see when we are together. There is no need for overt displays of affection to give an impression of intimacy. There is a possibility that it is implicit and almost unbeknown to either of us that we are in some way demonstrating or displaying our intimacy. And possibly it is this that was noticed and interpreted as we sat together in the restaurant on Friday evening.

I’m not bothered by this, and I certainly don’t want to worry about it. I suspect that only people who are really searching for this may actually find it, or people who are naturally intuitive. They might notice it too. I suspect that my lover’s friend noticed it as he sat in his kitchen a few weeks ago, pouring himself a glass of something and quizzing me about my feelings for his friend. I think this man understood and had grasped a flavour of the intimacy. Who knows?

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On Saturday evening, a group of us went out to a very decent Indian restaurant about five minutes away from my house. I’d never been to this place before but will certainly consider going there again.

The evening had been arranged by a friend who thought it was about time that we all met a mutual friend’s new man. En masse, we gathered in what I would consider to be a relatively intimidating manner, all ready to find out who this man was, and whether he was going to provide the thought and affection that our friend so desperately craved.

Unabashed by three dominant women, who are so very different from his new woman, he graciously answered our questions and conversed in a polite and thoughtful way. He expressed his knowledge of each of us. He referred to my friend at every opportunity possible, and held her hand throughout the entire evening, pausing only to raise his fork to his mouth.

My friend is not a very spirited person. She lacks emotional intelligence and fundamentally believes in a “happy ever after” way of life. She expects everything to fall into place and is reluctant to consider alternatives or ways around confronting issues.

She hasn’t had sex for eons, despite only recently being divorced. In fact, she probably hasn’t had sex for an entire epoch, possibly two. I think I could count on my hand the amount of times she has had sex with her ex husband during the last decade.

She has never owned a vibrator and our frequent attempts at getting her down to the local Ann Summers shop have been declined, yet she still wants to have sex.

This new man of hers has been single for ten years. He hasn’t had that much intimacy in those years as he was so bereft following on from his own divorce. He now purports to be ‘in love’ with my friend. He has bought her a “promise” ring (oh deary me!), and has told her that he wants to take care of her and share the rest of his life with her.

I couldn’t say whether she is “in love” with this man or not. I suspect that what she really would have liked in life, is to have this sort of affection and puppy dog devotion from her husband; a man that I love dearly but was and still is totally incapable of expressing his feelings to anyone, with the possible exception of yours truly.

Anyhow, they displayed what some might consider a strong affection and intimacy. When they weren’t holding hands, they were gazing into each other’s eyes like some young love dream. He happily shared his account of their first meeting, and they kissed whenever it was feasible.

Just as a small aside, they haven’t slept together yet. Well, they’ve slept together but they haven’t made love. He’s finding it a little tricky! Possibly needs some help from a small blue pill, but being a couple who are unlikely to discuss such issues, and with my friend being so incapable of thinking out of the box, I surmise that they haven’t discussed the alternatives. I mean, even if he couldn’t get an erection, he could still give her a damn good finger fuck, and she could at least hold his cock to see if it has any effect.

Others around us, both within our party and within the restaurant itself would have looked at this couple and decided that they were indeed very intimate, and yet, this public display of affection is not what intimacy is about. I daresay there is a possibility that they are intimate, or they could be. I daresay that there will come a time when they grow into one another and feel the sort of comfort with one another than means that they don’t need to demonstrate their love to others in this clichéd and slightly crass manner.

Now I know that I am sounding like a cynic. I also know that you can absolutely have intimacy together with great overt displays of affection. And don’t get me wrong, if I had the opportunity to be intimate with my lover in the company of others, I wouldn’t hold back but I wouldn’t do it just to prove something either. That is not necessary.

Intimacy and the desire to hold one another, kiss one another, fuck one another should be instinctual and not contrived. It should be stimulated by an urge and a passion, a need and a hunger, not as a demonstration or an expectation from others.

What I am trying to say is that open displays of so-called intimacy are far from the real thing.

I am definitely not saying that kissing in public and holding hands with your man is wrong. I am more than happy to do this IF it feels right to do so at the time.

But real intimacy, just like real friendships, just like a real love and affection is something that is inherent and unspoken. It is an amalgamation of many, varied aspects.

Intimacy with a lover is different from intimacy with a friend, and you can have both.

With a lover it is good, adorable, wonderful sex. It is being able to acknowledge one another’s moments of bliss without having to smother them, it is about sitting in a quiet room and not fearing or even feeling the tension of silence, for there is no tension in such stillness. It is about the unspoken words and the understanding of thought. It is about knowing one another and respecting each others needs and indeed foibles.

It is an essence of a relationship, and I really hope that my friend, immune so frequently from thought, bereft so often from sexual stimulation will learn to appreciate with her new man.

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