(Sometimes I'd Rather) Live on my Hands & Knees

Some people chew on pencils to clear their mind or focus, to ponder or to dream. Others tap their feet, or bounce a ball off a wall, or employ any number of clever psychological idiosyncrasies. My methodology, dear reader- or should I say “voyeur”? – is, like so many facets of my unique person, often a deviation from the norm insofar as technique is regarded.

I traced all the shattered colors in a beam of light spread out upon the floral eggshell wall laid out before me as I rocked rhythmically upon the spear of pleasure probing me that evening. Following our quaint takeaway supper, we’d found ourselves helplessly caught up in the subtle grip of far more insatiable, sensual appetites as an inevitable consequence of the sum of silent moments, longing glances, and the growing intellectual heat lightning of some characteristically charming repartee.

It started with a smirk and found us wrapped in the delirious ecstasy of the wordless bond forged in the gravity of mutual desire. What a strange and familiar collection of sensations we practiced upon each other’s bodies. I’d known other men, other women, across so many different stretches and kinds of time. But as was always the case in these circumstances, none of it mattered- and it felt as though time itself stretched beyond definition and all that could be found to grab hold of were untold maddening rungs of pleasure.

I could feel his pulse throbbing eagerly inside of me. I marked the steadily surging rapture his body intended to inflict on that ravenous delta between my thighs with each rhythmic sway of my hips. Two anxious and exhausted bodies. A duo of casually inclined and neatly put together people now hung suspended by the marionette strings of animal desire while we explored the dimensions for which most human beings find themselves eternally longing and only fleetingly seem to cherish the opportunity to attain.

I could feel the lazy, unyielding impact of the most intimate parts of him slapping the exposed mound of torturously sensitive flesh between my more private lips. It sent ripples of ecstasy echoing throughout my body and found its release in the pressure valve of their counterparts with each shameless moan that had begun as a failed whisper upon them.

I craned my neck to kiss him deeply, and in that meeting we found the zenith of that particular excursion together and smiled through the softly smacking wetness of our locked grins. We’d become artists of a sort together at meeting there. It was something I treasured about the characteristically unique thing which we shared beyond words.

I always found such clarity in those dimensions. It was in these communal places of carnal ritual that I most often happened upon my greatest epiphanies and captured motivations. It got me thinking.

As I found myself, quite literally a woman out of place and time- enjoying a sort of second adolescence in the glowing twilight of my youth… what better, more profound way could there be for me to reclaim it and set out on voyages of discovery and exploration that my life hadn’t yet afforded me?

I had my entire life been something of a confidante and envoy to so countlessly many more than those with whom I found myself periodically entangled. It was only in these most recent years of my life that after some immense hardship and success I finally felt utterly at home and could see myself wholly when gazing upon the person I’d find looking back at me inside any mirror.

I seemed to possess a sort of singular talent in all my uniquely acquired empathy and perspective for bonding with so many drastically different people on such a profound level. I found myself unashamed, finally- to exercise these gifts and talents in recognition of their immense power with greater fervor and enthusiasm now that my nimble and resilient feet had landed squarely upon solid ground.

And so, dearest inquisitor- whoever you may be- it is with one curled finger coyly beckoning you to join me, and the other tapping playfully upon the very keys creating this licentious correspondence that we begin this journey. My sincere and devious intent ever being to titillate and intrigue, inspire and provoke in you some mutual passions.

If as thinking, reasoning creatures in this life we define ourselves by our capacity to create like so many of the deities we fashion as a simulacrum of our inheritance- what greater monument may anyone aspire to craft than some testament of the incomparable power of love in all its many forms, desire and passion its agents?

Until we meet again,

With all my naked heart, and every unapologetically desirous fiber of my body,

 

Your Dahl ❤️