There’s a burning desire deep inside me that consumes my body, mind and heart. Passion is rising with each breath I take that’s been buried for a very long time. I’m experiencing increasing awareness of my body and its needs over the past few days. It’s almost as if I’ve been asleep for a very long time and am just now waking up to the world on a beautiful spring day. Everything feels so new and fresh. My senses tingle with anticipation as I think about the past week’s activities and how I can feel so intensely about them. The yearning for unemotional, physical encounters is growing daily. Although I don’t think this new gluttonous appetite is completely devoid of feeling. It’s touching me on such a primal level that my sensors can’t register the psychological depth of the repeated rendezvous. It seems the more I allow myself to experience it, the more I want. It’s becoming an addiction, but how can something that feels so good be bad?
I feel a little shy at first. Usually a man has to buy me dinner and a movie before I allow him to see me this underdressed. I tentatively touch my hips and think about the movements they are expected to perform. In a past life I wouldn’t have given today’s activities a passing thought. I was so confident; the desirable blonde woman with a rock hard body of every man’s dream. But today my bare arms and legs feel exposed as I consider the amount of the batwing fat on the back of my upper arms and dimpling cellulite on my outer thighs. Will it shake when I move? Does it wiggle like Jell-O when I push harder and faster? I pray it’s not noticed.
It’s been so long. I am painfully aware of time that has passed since I last felt like this. After fifteen years of marriage and two children I’m mortified to find myself back here. The old familiar feelings are there but somehow different. I’m different. It feels both frightening and exhilarating at once. My gaze travels up the complete 6’5” frame and I am painfully aware of strong, sleek, dark arms. They look so solid and competent, yet unforgiving. I experience a brief moment of fear, wondering if I’m good enough. It’s been so long and I feel as though I’ve lost my touch. Will it be obvious? I nervously avert my eyes so my insecurity goes unchecked. No! Wait! Self-defeating thoughts are not allowed anymore. I am beautiful just as I am. I don’t have any reason to feel ashamed or uncomfortable. I have to do this now, before I talk myself out of it.
I slowly lower my towel to the floor as I grasp the substantial arms and climb on top. I know this is the preferred position. I begin to move up and down slowly and tentatively at first. It feels so awkward; as if this was something I’d never done before.
The burn begins to rise from the pit of my belly again. My face is getting warm and I can tell the flush is beginning to show. I touch my arm and it’s at once cool and wet. As the frigid air passes beneath my nose I feel the dampness beginning to form on my upper lip. I’m clinging tightly to arms that are not familiar and it feels so right. Pounding music plays a pulsating cadence as I close my eyes. The music and movement begin to transport me to another world-a world of sensation, feeling and raw energy. My breath is rhythmic as well; it’s getting deeper and faster as I am instructed to move with increasing speed and thrust. Discomfort and self-consciousness is dissipating. I’m allowing the feelings to consume me.
A bead of sweat is trickling slowly down my spine, drawing a slow, wet trail from the nape of my neck to the soft curve between my buttocks. It feels very sexy. My skin is beginning to feel the white heat that started earlier. It’s as though I’ve caught on fire from the inside out. I feel dampness between my legs and breasts. Suddenly I need and want more. I move faster, with fervor, willing myself not to give it up until that perfect moment when I get the signal that it’s ready to happen. Reckless abandon has replaced timidity; aggressiveness wins over shyness. I become a beast which cannot be sated. I move even faster, adjusting my position to get the deepest burn. My thighs are throbbing and my arms exhausted, yet I won’t stop now. Not when I’m so close to exploding satisfaction!
I’m panting now. Actually panting, like a dog! My head moves from side to side as my body thrashes up and down, back and forth. It’s going to be soon; I can feel it. I can’t hold out much longer. We’ve been going at it for nearly an hour non-stop. Every inch of my body is alive and sweating. I feel my breasts swaying with the rhythm. I’m sure my nipples are standing straight out. How could they not with the sweat, cool air and constant friction?
It feels so good! I can barely take it now. I know we’re almost finished but how can I hang on? Hmmm, I’ll think of something else. Like what color to paint the ceiling? Do I need a manicure? I…I…Oh my God! I’m nearly there. A slow, guttural growl begins low in my chest. Was it out loud? Could I be heard? My embarrassed is shrouded in sweat soaked ecstasy and at this point I don’t care about anything but my end result. The feeling of utter satisfaction when I’m completely spent, drenched in my own juices, legs shaking and aching like I’ve just been rode hard and put away wet prods my ass to move like a bat out of hell.
I’m ready now. I think my head is going to explode. My heart is racing and the burn is excruciating. I can’t feel my legs, but they have to be there, moving with passionately increasing rhythm until the ultimate climax. One final push sends me to the edge. My shoulders heave as I allow the feeling to travel through my body. Suddenly, all movement ceases. The only cognizant sound is the whoosh, whoosh of blood rushing through my ears. Shaking and shuddering, I slowly step back. I feel weak, spent and completely soaked, but sated. I’ve completed my mission. I nearly fall backward as I dismount. With a Mona Lisa smile of complete satisfaction, I register the 700 calorie burn and 4.7 mile trek on the Stairmaster workout screen.
Tomorrow I think I’ll use the treadmill.
Posted in Essay, WRITING
Tags: individuality, Sexy