My husband and I have been living in 1600 square feet like neighbors who share land. Every once in awhile we cross each other’s boundaries to talk, argue, maybe kiss and make-up for a few days.
But the passion has been on hiatus, off and on, for years.
The night before last, something shifted. Our boundaries got muddled. A storm raged through, threatening to take both of our homesteads and wash them away.
But, neither of us was willing to stand down. We both grabbed buckets and shovels and started sandbagging our shared property.
See, we may have often simply been neighbors or roommates rather than lovers or even husband and wife…but we have never stopped being soul mates. No matter how distant we’ve become, we have never stopped loving each other.
There is a difference this time, however. Something broke inside of both of us. Somewhere at his center, he found forgiveness…true forgiveness…for the first time. I don’t know quite how to explain it, I just feel it at my core. And somewhere at my center, I let go.
The night before last, what might have simply been “make-up” sex, was catharsis. And last night, I found myself opening to him in a way I have never opened before. He re-established his place and I fulling inhabited mine.
His “good girl,” whispered in my ear melted me and brought me home. His fingers wrapped around my hair, pulled, and let loose my inhibitions in a wet torrent. My legs spread to him, my heart opened to him, and my gates came down. His tongue found my asshole, and rather than freaking out, I relaxed. He told me to rub my clitoris while he did it. And I came. He filled my ass with his cock. And I found myself coming again.
And somehow, none of it felt like fucking. It just felt like opening and letting go.
Afterward, I lay spent. Like coming down from a drug.
It felt like a beginning.
A new beginning.
I cannot even speak the words that my body wants to form in response to his. They don’t exist.
He is my everything.