I’m tired. I worked late again tonight and I’m tired. Not that late, not till eight, that was last week, and seven last night. It was only till 6, and then 10 minutes to home, most people would sneer at my kvetching. But the cats needed feeding and I need my downtime and I have my assignments for my most demanding tutor so I logged off and walked out and here I am home.
I love having cats. I love how they swarm, just two of them but they swarm, they turn up their faces and present a head or a nose to be touched, Ketzel rises up on her strong little legs and gives me a kiss on my nose with hers. They make me feel welcome. They make me feel loved. They make me feel needed as they act like they haven’t been fed in two weeks. And then I’ll find myself with one in my lap, and another hard against my legs, trading their heat for mine, trading their love for mine, and my drafty house feels like a home and my lap and my legs and my heart feel warm.
But you know, sometimes I’d like there to be more. More warmth, from a bigger body, a bigger human body snuggled up against mine. A big soft hard human body to snuggle and hold me and stroke my hair and kiss me for hours and not hurt me. Not hurt my heart and only sometimes hurt my nipples. Arms and lips and tongue and fingers and chest and legs and cock… yeah, sometimes a cock is nice… and losing myself in sensual touch instead of wrestling with the pain… to be aware of every tiny section of my body as it is explored and caressed and enjoyed for my pleasure as well as his.
I want to be loved. Sometimes, I just need to be loved.
There are many forms of intimacy, and many roads to reach it. I’m not saying that one is better than the other, or that I want only one or the other. And of course that can be a problem, too, wanting so much, wanting to be loved, wanting to submit, wanting to be caressed, wanting to be hurt even though I don’t really like the pain but I do find joy in offering my pain… Wanting more than one person is likely to be able to give me.
And I do have a lot now. I do. And I am grateful for it. But sometimes…. sometimes I want the rest of it. Sometimes I want to curl up next to someone the way Marko is now curled up next to me, and to feel someone’s hand stroking my hair and my skin the way I am stroking Marko, and to know that I will feel it again tomorrow… or if not then, at least next week… and that when Barack Obama lands that winning electoral vote he will be here by my side crying and laughing and drinking champagne and toasting a new, hopeful future.
So Marko… how do you feel about champagne?