She began to live again

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Image

She began to live again.

As her fingers skimmed the skin of her lover, touching, teasing.

The gentle touch of her lips on her lovers skin turning a key that had been long shut.

Her tongue trailing, outlining, tasting the woman beneath her.

The soft tremble of her lover, the quiet gasps and the quickening of her breath.

She felt it then, the awakening of her own skin, every touch, brush of skin on skin feeling electric.

Every part of her crying out to be touched as her fingers danced and moved on her lover.

Her soul awoke and her time would come once more.

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Slowly, softly

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Slowly, softly

Under our leaf canopy the still of the forest surround us, the sound of the rain against the leaves locking us in our natural hideaway, giving us our own secret world, both of us sensing the smell and the feel of the forest around us.

I kiss your lips slowly, softly.  Pressing your body against the damp bark of the tree.   I feel your teeth on my lips, gentle, your tongue lazily flicking mine.

I drop my mouth to your neck, my tongue tipping the length of you, slowly, softly. Trailing to your shoulder, small nibbles, soft, but felt, making your breathing start that little bit faster.

I raise my head to look into your eyes as my fingers start unbuttoning your shirt.

Your eyes are heavy, I see surrender in your face as I drop my head to let my lips run over every piece of skin that becomes exposed as I slowly free your body to the warm, damp air.

Slowly, softly I flick my tongue against your nipple, rolling it gently against my teeth, first one, then the other until they stand proud and erect, damp from my mouth and the trickle of rain that drips from the leaves onto your skin.

My tongue trails down you, along your stomach, my teeth gently nibbling. My mouth sucking, slowly, softly until I hear your gentle cry.  Your hands on the back of my head urging, holding, as I gently slip your jeans down your legs, trailing my tongue down your inner thighs.  Softly, slowly.

Once more you lean back, your naked body against the damp rough bark, your hips forward, pulling me to you as the tip of my tongue slides along you, stopping briefly for gentle blows of air against you, my fingers probing, pushing in.  Slowly, softly.

You push my head harder against you, opening your legs wider, it is urgent now.  My speed quickens, fingers pushing harder and deeper into you, my lips sucking on you, then a sudden slide of my tongue along the length of you to join my fingers, unexpected, electrifying.

Quicker and harder I push, suck and slide.  The wetness of you no longer caused by the rain, the sound of the rain drained out by your urgent cries, until …

..a soft, deep moan from the depth of your soul, a rush of heat on my fingers and my face tells me that the storm is over ..

I rise, kissing you once more.   Our lips mingling with the taste of you.

Slowly, softly.

Should you fight for love?

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I was speaking to a friend last night who was asking my advice (I know .. I laughed too!) ..  

Her “problem” was that she had met someone who she really liked but the relationship is not going smoothly.  The girl who she has met was honest with her from the start and said she was not looking for a serious relationship and was dating other people.

My friend however, wants to take this relationship to a new level.  She asked me whether she should lay her cards on the table and fight for this.

My first instinct was to tell her that she had to sit down and talk to her “friend” but on reflection I think I may have given her the wrong advice.

Relationships have to be a two way thing, both of you need to put effort in.  A one sided relationship never works and the person putting the most effort in is usually the one who gets hurt.

I have twice fought to keep a relationship going, once I lost, once I thought I had won.  In reflection I never won.  It ended up being a relationship where I felt I was the one putting all the effort in with no emotional or physical return and in the end I just gave up.   In hindsight I was wrong to fight, I should have just let it go and moved on.

Maybe I’m too cynical these days to fight, maybe I’m just tired, I don’t know.  What I do know is that no matter how good you are at fighting in the end you will lose.

I know that there are women out there who like to be fought for.  What that says about their insecurities and their emotional maturity needs a wiser woman than me to work out but I know that I would never again want to be with a woman who made me fight for her.

Cynical or wise?   I’m not sure!

Comments for and against welcome!

The Beauty Within

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I found this today on another site .. someone had received it by email and decided to post it ..  I thought I would share it with you.

The Beauty Within
Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world fighting, eating garbage & love.

The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly. To start with, he had only one eye and where the other should have been was a hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner.

Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby, striped type, except for the sores covering his head, neck & his shoulders. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction.”That’s one UGLY cat!!!”

All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave.

Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around your feet in forgiveness.

Whenever he spied children, he would come running, meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor’s dogs. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly’s sad life was almost at an end.

As I picked him up and tried to carry him home, I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. It must be hurting him terribly, I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear. Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying, was trying to suckle my ear.

I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.

At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.

Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly.

Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful.

He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for.

Many people want to be richer, more successful,well liked, beautiful, but for me… I will always try to be Ugly.

What not to do when bored …

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The army back in the 80’s was not an easy place to be as lesbian.  You could still be kicked out and although there were a lot of us around, most of us were very careful where and when we had our fun!

In Ireland  it was particularly tough .. I shared a room with five other women and most of the rooms, even for corporals were shared.

During my time in Ireland I met a girl called Jan.   Luckily for me she was the PTI and I was captain of the hockey team so we both had keys for the sports store.   The sports store was really nothing more than a big shelf lined cupboard on the 3rd floor (top floor) of the WRAC sleeping quarters.

This cupboard was our den of inequity .. the place we met to do what some girls do <grin>

Jan had a terrible habit of always turning up late .. sometimes I would be waiting 30 minutes or more for her.

I passed the time by climbing the large slatted shelves and exploring what was on them.  On one of my forays I found a karate outfit, which pleased me greatly and I was often seen striding around in my really cool new PJ’s  (ok I looked a bit of a prat but I was happy!).

One particular day I came across a diving outfit, the rubber body suit, flippers and the rubber helmet.   Being a bit of a wally (see karate outfit PJ’s above….) I decided it would be really funny to put the helmet on.

So I did.

Eventually Jan opens the door

“BOOOO” shouts me .. my face squished into a pouting shape by the helmet.

Oh how we laughed …   until I tried to take it off..

It wouldn’t move.

“How much talc did you use” asked Jan

“Talc?… what do you mean talc?”  I mumbled (difficult to speak with a roll of rubber in your mouth)

No matter how much Jan pulled or wiggled, it wouldn’t move.

In the end we ended up in the corridor.  Jan with her foot on my head and her fingers under my chin (good job she was fit .. I could NEVER have got into that position!).

In the end it did roll off my face, and believe me it was painful, every little hair (that you didn’t know you had!) was being ripped out one by one.

My face was swollen, my eyes nothing more than slits … there would be no misbehaving after that!

The story doesn’t end there … in fact it gets worse …

Later that night I was in my room when there was a knock on my door.

In walks one of my friends (who was straight but knew all about Jan and I).

“CJ .. will you do me a favour, I don’t care what you and Jan get up to, but can you please be a bit quieter” she said

“OH NO .. you don’t understand” I garbled .. “It was the rubber helmet …….”

The look of horror on her face, and undoubtedly mine as those words left my mouth would have made a smashing picture …

You are my weakness

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You are my weakness,

my desire.

The smile on my face, the source of my fire.

The rebirth of my want.

Filling my head.

The drama of fantasy to be played out in bed.

The air that I breathe

As I start to live

And the source of my doubt of how much to give.

My soul is the devils

Wicked and wild.

My body is yours and I am beguiled

My heart is still mine

But as I start to live,

It is a dangerous thing, but mine to give.

You are my weakness,

My desire.

The smile on my face, the source of my fire.

Lovers Dawn

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Lovers Dawn

I awake slowly, listening to you breathing softly beside me.

I watch as you stir in the dusky light of dawn, your body outlined in the light, slowly moving in rhythm as you sleep on.

My hand reaches out to touch you, softly, gently and you stir again, slowly, a slow realisation of my touch, warm against your cool skin.

You move towards me, your head on my chest, your hands gripping softly at the small of my back, where the touch of your lips still lingers.

My hand moves of its own accord, slowly, skimming your skin.

You move again, open, ready for my touch.

Slowly my hand finds you, gently, softly, slowly I touch you, listening to your soft breath rising and falling, quickening with the soft touch I lay upon you.

You move again, raising your hips, a silent plea for more.  I wait,  I continue my slow touch, hearing your breath quicken, your hips move gently but more urgently.

I give in, I push in,  I hear a soft cry and I continue my slow gentle rhythm inside you.

Feeling your heat, feeling you slip between my fingers..

You move urgently now, quicker, harder and my fingers matching your rhythm, your urgency.

Your skin is hot now, your grasp on me tighter, pulling me closer to you.

A small cry, a shudder that ripples through your body and mine.

Your lips find my mouth,  a soft gentle kiss of confirmation.

You turn, your back to me now, pushing back for the touch of me against you.

I lie, listening to you breathing softly beside me.

I watch as you fall back into your peaceful slumber, your body glowing in the light,

Slowly moving in rhythm as you sleep on.

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