Dirty Little Secrets and Dopamine

I remember our showers. We were so freaking steamy in them. I remember so many things about them, but I let myself forget about the intimacy we shared. The sex, I remember. The part I hid is the way he would to look at me and wash my body. It was like I was a precious piece of art. Sometimes we would just stand under the stream of water and hold one another. We were so tender at times. We were so animalistic at other times.

Last week, was all about the tender. He washed me up, every inch. He washed my hair, rinsed it and me, sucked the water off my body, held me, kissed me then dried me off, sat me on his bed, and told me not to move. He arrived seconds later and sort of lay on me and next to me at the same time, and Q-tipped each ear.

Ever so attentive.

Ever so gentle.

I understand why I have not been able to make anything work with anyone else. I’m so thankful.

Only I could find a way to fall in love again with a man I never stopped loving.

I am so excited to see where this goes.

 

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