His Weakness

(The Introduction)

Why me? When the real question should be, “Why not me?â€
It was totally by accident that we met. Nothing more than a transaction for a can of paint. An exchange of business cards, and I was on my way. Out the door, out of sight, out of mind. At least it was for me. Why would I pursue a man? My interest had gone from “knights in shining armor, to 0†on a man-scale.

This man, this incredible man, wanted to be with me. He must have pondered this too. One day out of the blue, I heard from him. He wasn’t pushy, or showed an anxious need to see me, but let a communication build, being ever so patient. And I just couldn’t justify the want. I pondered for many weeks. I’ve nothing to offer, that would be of interest, that I’m aware of. I had not considered the alternatives, the answers put before me, of questions I dare not ask but he did. He saw me. He saw only me. I wanted so badly to see me through his eyes, too. What was it that he saw that my mirror didn’t reflect? In time, he told me more than I saw.

The pleasure of his company was quirky, to begin with. So long, I had thought that part of me was done. I had had enough drama from men to cure me for a century. The ease of his company, the warmth of his touch, so innocent, so compelling. Eyes that didn’t lie to his want, a body that beckons my being, and a calmness that rattled my being. Was I to live again? Find buried desires, long wasted, a need of physical pleasure, that had turned into memories, was this real? I never thought anyone could see me as he did.

There was no boasting, no list of things to do done to me, nothing that made me think, he was only here to please his curiosity. Even after all the nights spent in wakeful hours, pouring over our bodies, leaving nothing to the desire of each other, have I known him to falter in his pleasure to make me his focus.

The night I realized he had taken me to a place of complete pleasure, as no man before him, had touched upon, or maybe I never felt comfortable enough to let someone get that in touch with me, to let go of my self-boundaries. I realized his words, his want for me was real. I was free. It was ok to allow myself that undeniable pleasure, women often deeply deny. It’s so true, even in a day and age that women have a voice, it’s still hushed behind the bedroom doors. I’m no goddess, and to be treated as such, well, that’s the stuff of fairy tales, right?
The journey with him, the challenge of oneself, the discovery … it is the quiet ones you must watch out for. (to be continued) Next up: Sense or Sensibility

Real or not real, only the writer knows, my lustful lovelies (smooches)
06.24.25 Maggies2Wishes