He asked me to blow him a kiss over the telephone lines and I felt apprehensive about such a small act of commitment. I knew him not. We had only met once, two weeks before, and communication by phone had so far been our way of getting to know each other.
Yes, I can tell he is an aggressive man who no doubt hungers for something more on the side of romance then he has found in past relationships. His aggressiveness intrigues me only because he reminds me of someone in the past, who took the ball, ran with it, and scored my heart. Can he play this game of love to win or will he simply dribble around the court waiting for me to take “him” to the hoop.
I welcome his calls. His voice is strong, deep, and controlled. Our short but challenging conversations tell me he is intellectual but tells me nothing of his heart or why he is single like me. I wonder what it will be like when we stand face to face with questioning eyes that ask, “Who is he”, “Who is she”?
I feel myself drifting and fantasying about what the feel of his arms are like. Does he know how to hold a woman to his body so she later sighs at the thought of his embrace? I wonder how much passion is in his kiss. I wonder and yet I know that I must resist his manly magnetism at all cost, or else all will be lost, lost to pleasure only; with no deep spiritual knowledge about who he is and who he would like to be. I want his mind and then his body will follow.
Yes my apprehension about a kiss via the phone line is real. It’s real because it exposes “me”. He shouldn’t know that I long to be kissed. I want to see inside him not him see inside me. I blush, and I ask him not to make me blush and he responds with, “Aren’t you a woman? Don’t you want to feel good? What’s wrong with blushing?” Yes, his tone is authentic and much about his personality is revealed as manipulation but I can’t help myself.
Doesn’t every woman want to be manipulated by a man one way or another? I prepare myself for our next encounter hoping that the next will draw him closer to “my” web. Has the fly ever eaten the spider? Does the hunter enjoy the hunt so much that he desires to be hunted? I don’t want to be chosen; I want to choose. I want control.
I can’t just let it happen. I can’t just go with the flow; or else I lose the only thing I really have to give…myself.
I want him to know me…to know how loud the emotions of my heart sing within me. I want him to untangle the webs that years of frustration have knitted between man and woman.
I must hold out at all cost. I can’t let him have me before I truly know him or else our close encounter would have been a waste of time. Oh, how much I desire the physical aspect of love and all of its pleasures, but I do not relish the pain that comes with lying down too soon with someone who knows not his own heart; least of all mine.
Apprehensive? Yes! Scared, no! I’ve been down this road before and I’m tired of the charade, the unfocused moments, and the speechlessness after we are sexually gratified. I want to breathe the aroma of romance forever and a day.
I too am guilty of taking and not giving, holding back, putting off, and unloading when the prey has been devoured. You see; it was the moment that held my attention. The moment died when the predator was captured, stripped, and consumed by the heat that emaciated from “my wants”.
Can we make it last forever? What does “the kiss” reveal to him about me?
Somehow, I feel the pressure of being a woman.
bevsangle 