Hair Long Enough for My Fingers/ April 2010

by feyruhan

We showered together, the last time I was at his house.  Monday?  Yes, Monday.  We showered together and then fooled around some more.  I felt a little overwhelmed in there–so close, so private, so… naked.  But he’s good to me, he makes me feel good.  He stops when I ask him to.  I’ve been wanting him; I want to be good to him, to take care of him.  The way he says my name… like he’s surprised, and grateful, that I try so hard, and yet so effortlessly, to be good to him.  I’ve never been so good to anyone before.  I’ve never wanted to be good to anyone.  Not like this.

He likes what I like, he likes what I do for him and he’s not afraid of giving it back.  It feels so good when he gives it back.

He wants to help me come, and says not to worry, I’ll get there–it’s hard at first but the more you go there the easier it is to go back.

He doesn’t have to tell me that he doesn’t love me so that I won’t scare off.  I don’t need to tell him I don’t love him so that he knows where I stand and to not get too invested.  We know.  He’s still heartbroken, it’ll take time.  I just broke up with E, I need space.  We know what we are and what we aren’t to each other, and nobody gets left behind.

His hair is long enough to run my fingers through it.

I like his lips.  His tongue.  His teeth.  I like his fingernails, scraping my back, my arms, my legs, my thighs.  I like his voice, the way he moans and breathes when I touch him, kiss him, storke him.  I like his confidence, his trust, his patience.  His smile.  His laugh.  The way he mocks me for being a dork, fondly.  The way he sits or stands or walks with me, without saying anything, and it’s okay.  Companionable silence.  The way doesn’t pick on me for talking back to the tv…

The way he says he wants to kiss me; the way he asks–when I warn him that I can’t return the favor– if I can be eaten out.  He just wants to make me feel good.  There’s no math.  There’s just… us.


You’re pretty, and I feel pretty with you.  I’m in your arms, naked, but I don’t feel naked.  I want to kiss you but I don’t, I know I can’t.  We can’t.  I get so excited, so happy, watching you come.

Did you notice me crying?  I’m not hurt, I’m just… sad.  Because I want you.  I want more.  I want more of you.  More than you can give, maybe more than I can handle.

June, hurry up.


8 Comments to “Hair Long Enough for My Fingers/ April 2010”

  1. Beautiful, powerful.

    I think this is my favorite part: “You’re pretty, and I feel pretty with you. I’m in your arms, naked, but I don’t feel naked. ” That is certainly a kind of love.

  2. Email me if you want help returning the favor. I have helped many women get over their inhibitions about going down on their guy.

    Blessings on you and yours
    John Wilder

  3. This is awesome, and very inspiring. Very well written. I love the way you express yourself in your entries. 🙂

  4. Your stories speak to me they teach me about life and love and not to try too hard. You are a great writer.

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