Part III

I want. I want. I want.

I need. I need. I need.

I want love, I need love. I want to be wanted. I need to be needed. I want.

No. no. no. I'm looking at it all wrong. I will have it.

I don't really want anything. I don't need anything. Anyone. I have contentment. I am here. The work is hard and I want a distraction. But, distractions don't work anymore. 

The door locked under the pressure of his thumb. He asked what I wanted to drink. I didn't know. He made me a drink. It was good. He was focused on my lips. He approached me faster than I anticipated. The pressure from him pressing his face onto mine caused my back bend to turn unpleasant. I giggled and counter-acted, pushing my shoulders forward and covering my face. He pushed back, bending me backwards again. I laughed again, nervous and unsure of what to think. What to feel. He was pushy and I just needed some time to take it all in. He lifted me up onto the counter, pushing my legs to the side. I let him. I was curious. What did he intend to do? His kisses were more tender; he grabbed my hips and pushed against me. I wiggled closer to him, letting my shorts ride up. My knees grazed his ribs. He folded me like a paper and I gripped the edge of the counter with my toes. All at once he needed me. He was needier than I had thought. He needed feelings but he didn't understand that. Maybe he will get it someday. Maybe that was the lesson he got taught. The nagging feeling in the back of his head now that he felt a part of the cotton clouds that came out of my fingers into his skull. The understanding that what he does is empty and he is as well. I hope it eats him alive. I watched him move swiftly towards his hard bulge, I wasn't sure what his plan was as it unfolded. He pushed aside the thin layers of fabric between us and slide in. He became a jackhammer, which is rarely a mood I'm wanting. He slid in and out until I came to a space. The edge. I know it's around here somewhere, I creep forward and it becomes distant. A forever plateau. I can't cum this way anymore. I need to feel secure. I haven't felt secure in that way in a long time. I think about the last time a man has made me cum and I lose interest in this other tall, blonde man. I could care less if he cums or not. He does, it's everywhere. He remarks on how often and how much he cums. Yeah, man. Me too. Alone, apparently. 

I stare into a shiny metal enclosure. Separated by layers of plexiglass and non-latex. The sterile smell reminds me of a hospital, but better. I remind myself to pay attention. There's enough going on but the sleep is never enough, pulling me away, drifting into this state of consciousness. The thought bubble that I crawl into for minutes. Hours. Days. I need sleep. So, I dream while awake.

I cannot explain the reasons why sometimes. 

I watched their conversation. I began thinking about that feeling. The feeling. She touches his arm and I can't help but think he looks like someone familiar. They all do. In a way. Damn, these three actors are really hot. I like his dimples. I think the other guy has nice hair. It's dark and soft and curly. His shirt hangs open slightly, in a really relaxed way. The other one looks like that guy from middle school that touched my butt in class. We were supposed to be drawing up circuit boards. Or doing computer coding. He put highlighter on my ass. I remember thinking, I was annoyed. But, I felt the edge of the highlighter against my skin. The feeling of my ass bouncing back. Engorged from the swipe of pressure.  

It must have been like feeling comfortable and scared all at once. I wasn't sure how to place the feeling.

I was calm. His hands touched the tops of my thighs and I got a chill. He can't be the one doing this to my body. The air was sticky but a breeze swept through, causing goosebumps. I was suddenly aware of way too much. I was self conscious. He slid his hands up so smoothly, taking down my pants. His palms went back for my panties. He was so precise, at home. He was in his element. This is what he knows. He doesn't say much, but his tongue moves smooth as honey. I was taken aback. I was surprised at how much he needed touch. Needed love. He wanted to feel my skin. My body. He wanted to touch my hair, hold my cheek, wrap his arms around me. He wanted me to feel him. He was pleased with my pleasure. I was scared. I was rusty. Trying to remember what it felt like to enjoy someone's body. Appreciate the beauty of the flaws. Take in every freckle and lick every inch in front of me. I laid there with my eyes wide open. My mouth small. I was light, but I took it all in with the curiosity of a child. We were strangers, but our bodies knew each other. He felt me before I could think. His hands appeared exactly where I wanted them to. He was unsure also. He wanted to know that it was correct. That he was doing the right thing. I didn't have an answer for him. I was feeling. I hadn't felt in a long time. He took his time and put his hands around my hips. He tried to flip me over and was unable to. I felt bigger than I had recalled. I moved with him; anytime he wanted. Our bodies were in sync and we had just met. Again and again. I had laid on his shoulder, smelling the crisp shirt sleeve covering his armpit. He wanted to know if he smelled. He didn't. Well, he did. But it was like candy. I couldn't explain it. My brain grew. Flower roots dug deeper inside of my head, forcing their way out of my eye sockets. I felt as if the energy from my scalp was flowing deeper than it ever had before. I felt it. I noticed it. It took me a long time to place his smell. It sent me on an artistic rampage. I pinpointed lime. It was a bittersweet lime at times. Other's mixed with vanilla and tart lemon. He had a rustic smell. Like a campfire long died out. I thought, at first, the it was just the environment. We kept meeting around a fire. Inside a camper. In the woods. On the river. The smells of algae and murky waters with trout. I wanted him in the backseat of a car. I wanted to climb on top of him. Take him in deeply while our mouths curled into smiles between tasting each other. It was a feeling I had gotten after a dream. One that I had set aside for months. The embers churning deep below, warming his skin at the surface to a pleasantly warm degree, like a beacon. He smelled of clean linen. Like childhood. Lines of white shirts hanging in the breeze, when the whiff catches you off guard in the sun. A smack of laundry detergent, followed by the smell of summer. He smelled like summer. Warm, sweet, bitter, burnt, and somehow new. Like a fresh baby. A smell of a freshly drained tit. He smelled like love and home. Like nostalgia. 

I drooled at the thought. I want that. I need that. The feeling of desire. The smell of heaven at my fingertips. I want to lay next to you and need you. To send out the vibes that I am growing moist at the thought of you. For you to pick up on those pheromones and reply. To feel like a teenager again. Full of lust. The teasing of tongues touching, soft and smooth. The feeling of anticipation. Licking over and over the pointed tip of my nipple until I can't take it any longer. Until I slide the tip of you inside of me, swiftly, needing, and listen to your deep and near silent groan of pleasure. The vibration of your ribs when you suck in air with the sound. I want to feel that against my bare chest.

I feel my eyes flicker. The twinkle of moisture that makes me look like I have zero bad thoughts. The naive and innocent reflection of curiosity mixed with inexperience. Corrupt me. Take care of me. I need to be held after you take your pleasure. But, truly. I am thinking that. 

What are you looking for in a man? Passion. Love. Lust. Desire. A partner. Someone to meet me halfway. Someone who is good at what I am not. Someone who brings something to the table. I've got a lot to offer so he's gotta be interesting to me. It's also a feeling. Theres pieces of me that click with other people. I am looking for the smell of home. The feelings that come up when you know what you have found. The diamond in the rough. The gem of a man that other's don't pay attention to. Not a show off. But someone with something special. 

Like an animal, salivating at the chops. I have a picky desire. I don't want to be fucked. I want to be appreciated. I need it. I need passion. Tease me for hours. Make me so wet that I can't stand it. That I need you. Now. But, make me wait. 

Just don't make me wait forever.