June 14, 2026
In the wee hours of the morning, well before the sun rises, he touched me. His touch did something to me. It wasn’t about arousal, yet I’m not sure of its purity. The feel of the gentle roughness of his palm and fingertips gripping my neck and caressing the crease between my neck and shoulder was so soothing and intimate.
The three taps of his lips against my upper back were so tempting. Ignoring the first, I pretended I wasn’t sure and asked about the second one, but the third I could not ignore. The warmth of his breath bathing my back made me long for touch. Physical/mental touch; I struggle to connect mentally when I’m being physically touched and it ruins the experience for me. I can’t seem to fuse the two.
That strikes anxiety in me. He swears its everyone else. I truly feel that it is me. I worry that if I take a chance on him it will end just as it always does. And I’m TIRED of taking that. I’m tired of a mans touch triggering a fight to flight response within me.
I’ve felt lust before, but this wasn’t that. I needed to drink; I needed to be fed. He made me hunger for a connection. Thirst for being able to give and receive acceptance. He made me feel like he could be my one. My one chance to feel what I’ve been searching for, for a lifetime. And when a lifetime equals, roughly, about 22 years I’m sure you can imagine the discombobulation I experienced.
I wanted to allow him to lay me down so that he could, kiss, caress and massage my body. No penetration just touch. When he slipped my bra straps off my shoulders I battled with what to do. He’s got secrets that I think I want to know. I’ve got secrets that I’m too scared to share. Boundaries are being breached but I cannot afford to allow them to fall. I want to reach for what seems like is a chance at the happiness I always dreamed of, but the thought of failing yet another test that life has put before me has me weighing the risk to determine if the price to be paid for my failure is something that I have and can afford.
He’s a MAN. He invades my space and has strong philosophies of his own. It’s not physical attraction that calls me to him. It’s not just his words; although, they do both taunt and tempt me. I have concern that he is primarily talk as I in the past had thought him a player. Not to mention that he’s not the first man to offer me bliss and none have delivered so part of me tells me why would he be any different. There is depth to him. There is a determination to process and seek knowledge within him as well. And I cannot deny my surprise at that. I never thought of him as dumb or uneducated; however, I had no idea how masterfully his mind does work. How well read he is. How religiously cultured he can be when and if he chooses to be. It seems it was either hidden before, or life has cleaned and washed him of some of his past distasteful/questionable behaviors.
BUT, HEY! WHAT WOULD YOU DO: Would you lean into his touch, trust in his words, and see if a connection can be built? Or, would you assume his touch will turn as repulsive as all of those before him and not bother to add another scar on your psyche?
