“I love looking you in the eyes while I fuck you.” That’s the last thing he said in a string of “I love…” statements while he was grinding on top of me. We were in a rhythm. I had hit a point of saturation in sensation where I could hardly breathe and my brain couldn’t decide where on, or in, my body it wanted, or needed, to focus. I’ve commonly remarked that I love making HIS head explode in pleasure but last night he turned the tables. I might be suffering from sexual amnesia but I can’t recall a moment where I felt so worshiped by him before. He started by dominating from the most sensual and service position, between my legs. I was riding the waves of orgasm, begging for him to bring his mouth to mine so I could taste myself and also catch a breath and catch my senses. But he wouldn’t stop. He was tasting me from a place of energetic connection: taking my sex from my body and immediately replacing it with his. Eventually he rose to place his mouth on mine and his cock inside. But he didn’t do it swiftly. He took his time, making me beg with my body. You don’t experience this kind of love making with just anyone. It is nothing less than a meeting of souls and I can’t begin to explain its value in my life.
“I love looking you in the eyes while I fuck you.” Yeah, back to that moment. My face started to wrinkle. My eyes said I was trying not to verbalize but that I had something to say.
We’ve been struggling. He feels we have an imbalance in our love. I love super big and he doesn’t know if he feels the same. I love with intensity and he can’t say his love compares. He’s going to be 30 and I’m his first long term relationship. I’ve let him into every crevice of my heart. He doesn’t really know how to draw a map to his. We come with an age gap but more so an experience gap. I’ve tackled so many of life’s blows that just haven’t appeared in his life. The other day he asked me, “How can you love me so much?” To which I replied, “If you’d been through my life, you’d know why.”
Back to the: “I love looking you in the eyes while I fuck you.” He followed my face and he requested I share what was on my mind. I hesitantly answered, “You own me.”
I paused and then explained. “You can’t make love to me like that and expect me not to love you forever.”
“Forever” trips him up. The logical brain of his knows it can’t, or most likely won’t, be forever. He stops me there with that word. I know right where he’s going as I do the same thing. I say forever* with a built in asterisk. I get it. I’ve been in forever* and had it not be forever. That opens the start of a very vulnerable conversation.
We lay naked side by side. Physically exposed but more importantly, our hearts are wide open. Sex can sometimes do that. It definitely does that for us.
We share our fears and our disappointments in life. But the one thing I want to share here is this… I said something like this (though certainly not word for word – more like if I could say it again)…
“I love you. Not many men would have the guts to show up for a woman who loves as big as I do. We are in different places in life. You are a boy who is struggling with what it means to be a man. But I love that about you. I love both your boy and your desire to be more. Your youthfulness is what draws me to you. I see you in a bit of a crisis around your inner work and what you should be doing with your life. I want to support you in exploring that journey. I accept you for who you are right now but I also love you for who you were, how far you’ve come and where you are going. I don’t know if your sex with others is anything like the sex we share, but I can say for myself, even the best connections I’ve had don’t compare to what we share. You can say you think we have an imbalance but it isn’t showing up for us right now in this moment. I feel like it only shows up in that we just happen to love differently and with different past experiences. Just because it is different doesn’t mean it is imbalanced.”
I went on to spend more time probing into his thoughts around companionship, connection, personal work. He opened up to me more than he has in a long time. I held him as he shared and when it was time to sleep he thanked me for helping him open up. We then switched and he held me as we fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.
He is so brave. I don’t think he can see it and honestly, I sometimes struggle to see it myself. But in those tender moments, he never ceases to amazing me with his vulnerability, his authenticity, his trust in me. He gives to me, maybe less often but still often enough, what I give to him: my vulnerability, my authenticity, my trust… I give him those things because he DOES know how to love me in those moments. He makes those moments possible for me. How am I not supposed to love him forever?