He traced the long of her neck admiring the rise and fall of her curves and the glisten of her milky skin. He took his time admonishing her body and brushing her skin with ease. She shivered underneath the gentle touch of his rough hands to only quickly calm with his extreme sense of care.

She was afraid. She was afraid to find comfort in this care. She was afraid that this was all just a rouse to have her feel more in the scenario. She wanted to feel nothing. She wanted the weight of the emotion to be left off her shoulders. She wanted easy.

He continued to trace her body with an ever so slight touch. He grazed her most sensitive nerves but never coming close to taking off her panties. He wanted her to know how he could make her feel without the act of undressing. He wanted to appreciate her for who she was in this moment and nothing more.

She waited. She waited for him to take aggressive control and make her scream. She waited for this unnecessary, emotional, and long beginning to be over. She was confused. She didn’t understand why he was moving so slowly and giving her something she had only dreamed about.

She had to stop herself. She couldn’t think good of this and she most certainly could not be present. She could not believe that a man who had just walked up to her one day would be so kind and patient to her. She could not believe that all he didn’t want was to rip her clothes off and have his 15 minutes of pleasure inside her. Make her squirm and arch underneath his pressure. She didn’t believe.

She slid her hands down from above her head and slipped her thumbs underneath the hem of her red and black lace panties. She lifted her hips, eyes closed, in an attempt to shimmy out of them.

He placed his hands on hers. With invisible pressure he lowered her hips and dragged her hands above her head entwining his fingers in hers. She felt the heat of his chest hovering above her and his soft lips on hers. He moved his lips one…two…three…and a half times, each lasting for what seemed like a magical eternity. No clock in existence could have measured the time of his gentle, smooth kisses.

He uttered only the word “no” in a whisper when they both opened their eyes to read each other. She knew her fear must have been written all over and most telling in her wide, speech worthy eyes. He left her hands and fingers continuing his trace along her waist with a look of amazement, wonder, and confidence.

She couldn’t just be. She was trying to chant all the sayings in her head to just be there, underneath him; letting him see her; letting him analyze her. She couldn’t believe in the truth of the moment and person. She wanted her fear to win. She had tried. She had tried to take control and wipe the vulnerability away.

But she lay there. Beneath his touch and admiration, she lay there. She could never let him know that this little act…this seemingly unrevealing act…was mountains more than she wanted to feel, leaving her more vulnerable than she felt safe to be. And then she hoped, that if she should melt underneath his heat and care, that it wasn’t just for show.

Originally Published: August 14, 2017