ArmyDude and I exchanged a few surface-level e-mails that turned into a heart-to-heart cleansing.
I am frustrated. He is confused. I miss him when I can’t have him. He craves me. I am scared I might be feeling more than I can allow myself. He withdraws when he feels himself becoming too close to me. I said I can’t walk away just yet, and if I feel too much, I’ll wear the pain inside and never comprise his situation. He agrees, and won’t give up either.
We bonded again in the store room. No matter the tangles we were assembled in, I had a hand always clasping his or gripping his shoulder. I couldn’t let go. He couldn’t stop kissing me. I held the drapes of my long skirt as he pulled down my underwear and kissed me there as well. We licked my juices from his fingers. I devoured him with my lips. We shared his taste when he was spent.
I remember thinking, “I would let you do anything to me,” but can’t recall if the words escaped or I clutched them to my chest.