Love me, Loudly

by Jess Kolbe

I think we both struggle with our flashes of magic, of no words of chemistry and closeness. My God, I am so frustrated that it’s not funny! We have pulled the handbrake on our touch, and the intensity and anticipation feel too much. We feel like we are both trying to manage our emotions better.

  It’s like the pendulum swung too far in open emotional communication and now has swung completely back to a friendly, safe, not too emotional, not too physical space. Strangely in the backdrop of this friendly space, our intimacy grows, safety grows, and nothing eases me, nothing! This unwavering need of this man, it’s punishing. Evie, I scream at myself, slow, you want to take things slowly. We have taken slowly to the next level. Internally, my head, heart and desire battle.

  Yet, to feel held internally by this beautiful man is a dream I never thought could be real, so relax. I have spent time connecting with my heart, spending my emotions, not caging my feelings and attempting not to become them, as I fight completely with desire and not wanting to fuck this up. I’m petrified that my desire is blurring my ability to see if I’m falling in love, or not. Is my desire making me focus on sex rather than connection? It is the connected moments that my terror shows up. Or am I focused on the idea of love? And what it should look like? Am I absorbed by the idea of the Sam in my head and not the Sam in front of me?

  How do you know if you’ve never known love?

  I also feel rejected, by us slowing things down, with the handbrake I asked for now torturing me. Are we afraid to touch each other? Perhaps we’ve built it up too much? Perhaps we’ve missed the giant fucking boat! Today was a kiss on the cheek! FUCK, I feel rejected and crazy. I know it’s not stupid, and I know it’s slow and I asked for slow, with that stupid speech that made little fucking sense anyway!!! HELP! We are building trust and he’s respecting me and, and, and…

  I’m unable to think and beginning to feel manic. I fall on the floor, on the cool tiles in my kitchen, and sob my crazy little heart out with the kiss on the cheek reverberating around my head. Followed by fits of laughter at the stupidity of two grown adults; my need for him is driving me crazy. I want to be ravished. To be held tightly and toyed with, like I know he wants to. I want to curl myself inside in those arms, be gazed upon with those eyes, touched with those hands, feeling his energy inside me.

  These are new feelings for me, and I question, have we missed it, are we stuck in limbo? My desire to explore myself in him, to feel every inch of him against me, how our flow will evolve, freeing myself of control while welcoming trust and tenderness. Could I be so focused on my need, my desire, as a way of hiding from the feelings that are naturally developing? Like our bond, our flow is finding its own rhythm. To trust and release control, to allow love to evolve is hard. Pace yourself and learn. Be the tortoise not the hare.

  I don’t want to be triggered, I reassure myself, I want to love. Reminding myself of my tender heart, in thought and touch. I don’t want to control this either, but control is what has made me feel safe, control has protected me and sitting in the unknown is extremely uncomfortable and triggering. Control really is one of the ways I’ve survived so I am fighting battles of my past and future at once. I try to just allow these emotions to emerge letting them wash over me, cry more tears and soothe myself, as I go, I am triggered. We are taking it slow, snails move faster than us! How do I not be that person who pulls the handbrake while hitting the accelerator at the same time? ‘You’ll wreck the engine!’ A rebuttal to my own thoughts hisses up, complete with smart arse tone! Even my thoughts have attitude. It’s lucky as it is enough to bring me back to the reality with a grateful smile. Evie, just be in the present moment. I’m nervously excited and overwhelmed by my cravings, all rolled up in a huge ball of emotion inside my body. I’ve never been loved properly, and it feels terrifying to work through this while learning to love at the same time. I’m a feeler, can you tell? I understand my emotional expression and still, I fight with myself all the way. I have had to in order to survive and thrive in life and yet this is a whole new level. I am a nervous wreck. Sam physically reached for me the other day and I jumped. I wanted him to touch me, I’m just so on edge and so is he, I feel it in both of us, or at least I think I do. My mind flashes a visual sensation of him on top of me. I tell myself, slowly, Evie. Breathe. I coach myself and hold my body tightly, focus, find your focus. I push my feet into the ground and decide to go for a fast walk to move some of this angst in me.

  My phone rings. It’s the man himself! He is going to the farm for the weekend, wants me to come. I think “yes, please” was already out of my mouth before he’s even finished asking. He chuckles, and I acknowledge that clearly I’m keen! If I wasn’t so caught up in the weekend and the direction’s he’s giving me. I would have been embarrassed by my eagerness. He is heading up tomorrow to get work done and I’m following in a few days.

  I manage to focus on work and have a few productive days. As there is limited phone reception at the farm some space from Sam and our intensity has been good. Time, to breathe, to attempt to wash off some of my stress and hormones with purpose. I triple my normal exercise and some self-care options to help me use up this pent-up energy, to take the edge off my manic self.

  That is, until the morning when I’m packing and allowing myself to get excited and to ponder what might be. To take time to think of his body, his hands, working hands, rough, yet tender, a life of hard work. The strength in those hands as I imagine them steadying my hips, steadying me.

  I manage to get stuck into my day and before I know it is lunch time and I’m rushing out the door for the 3-hour drive. I’m so feeling good, blasting my music to help with my daydreaming of him on the drive. I eventually switch off the radio about halfway into the drive to catch my breath, shutting off the busyness and trying to ground myself. I do some of my breathing techniques and talk with my heart for a little while to ease into my feelings for Sam and our weekend.

  HIM | Twenty-four

  The farm has provided some space for me and I’ve managed to get loads done, but with the anticipation of her arrival getting closer I’m becoming more nervous. The outdoor bath is all set up and waiting for her. I really hope she likes it, as it is a hack job, not a fancy bath at all. This house represents me, and, I guess, what I can offer and I’m terrified it’s not her style. I’ve cleaned up and Harold’s here with me too, all washed and looking his best. I walk around aimlessly for a good hour before I hear her car, waiting till the thud of crossing the cattle grid before I walk out from the house, to not look too keen.

  She’s just sitting in the car, so I walk down to greet her, hoping she’s okay. She jumps out and I embrace her, showing more emotion that I would have wanted.

  Fuck it, why am I holding back?

  I really show her all the things I want to do with her, slowly, taking my time, she holds her hands on my skin and it feels like fire on my stomach, our eyes burning with longing, a long pause in the feeling of each other, before I say ‘Hello.’ I don’t feel like this is real. She tells me how good I feel and I’m embarrassed and she completely loves it, shooting me that smile with the cheekiness of her enjoyment in teasing me. I collect her bags and show her the house, suggesting sunset and beers on the deck. She smiles a lot and is taking a lot of deep breaths. It’s difficult to tell if that is a good sign or not. We dance around each other with giggles and stunned mullet moments.

  I feel like a fucking teenager again, trying to kiss Carmen Bone behind the sheds at school. Desperately trying to hide my hard on. Thankfully, I have a little more control than my 12-year-old self, poor Carmen.

  I glance across at Evie sitting in my chair, watching her take a swig on her Cooper’s beer and lean back in the chair with a great sigh. Fuck me, that right there is sexy as, and I need to calm the fuck down. I take that as a cue to exit and allow her to enjoy relaxing. Heading to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner, leaving Evie with her thoughts and to make herself at home. It’s not long before she’s under my feet in the kitchen, helping
me to get my shit together. Fuck, I didn’t know I was going to be so fucking nervous. The normalcy of this woman in my house is equally terrifying and exciting. I feel exposed and yet I’m enjoying her and desperately trying not to feel inadequate and be charming. Clearly, dinner is not on either of our minds as we both push our food around the plates, apprehensively. Desire runs rampant here. Dreaming of that kiss and wanting each other badly. I don’t want to fuck this up, with the memory of Carmen Bones freaking me out.

  HER | Twenty-five

  The landscape around me changes from urban to country, from grey to green as I’m chasing the mid-afternoon sun. Golden hour, my favourite, is not far away. I’m happy, smiling at the world around me. It feels so nice to be in flow with my world. I find the farm easily enough and there he is, standing on the deck of an old-style white Queenslander, my favourite style of home. I realise he never described the house.

  I sit in the car staring at him, taking it all in, kind of blank with disbelief. All that I’ve dreamed about is in front of me and I’m not sure any of it is real, if he’s real? I choke down a wave of emotion, calling to myself, Evie, air in and air out. Trying to force myself to breathe. He is walking over. Get your shit together girl, dreams do come true, even for people like me. Okay, here we go. I’m out of the car and it’s just us, space and us, well besides Harold, the dog. We walk towards each other, he looks different. He feels, well, he feels like home. It’s an embrace that takes us both by surprise followed by a kiss… A kiss that brings us right back to that first one. Slow at first, tempered, with his hands on me, unleashing my desire, intensifying the kiss by pulling me even closer to his body. I feel all of him at once and I just want to collapse myself into him, his taste, wrapping myself in the energy of him and this farm. I put my hands on his skin under his shirt, his stomach and I’m lost in the moment feeling the pulse of our energy flow. He slows us as our flow had rapidly intensified, reading my body, the feel of me, of us, my hands still on his stomach. He looks at me and smiles.

  “Hello.”

  “You feel so good,” I respond. He blushes and I love it. He holds me until I’m steady, until I stop trembling. Ever the gentlemen, Sam retrieves my bag and provides a guided tour of the house. He grew up here and then it became his when his parents built on the other side of the farm.

  “I’ll show you the rest of the farm tomorrow.”

  We watch the sunset with a beer from the steps of the deck, enjoying small talk, long glances and schoolyard giggles that feel, absolutely amazing, and yet terrifying with tones of normalcy. I feel so at home on the deck, with the colours of the land, and the sounds of animals in the distance. I’m far from a farm girl, yet I can appreciate the life and respect the beauty in this land. It is breathtaking. Sam’s getting dinner ready and while I enjoy the colours of the sky. Nerves and excitement are rising in me, and I’m grateful for the Dutch courage in my hand.

  I head into the kitchen to help. While carrying out the official table setting duties, I can feel his eyes watching me move around his kitchen. I love the feel of it, the way his eyes follow me. I know he is thinking about us, about the things he wants to do to me. Our energy is soft and playful, and it feels like we are feeling into our space, like our senses are heightened and setting the tone for our flow. We play physically with each other as well, a brush here, a touch there, testing each other. We eat, both grazing over our meals, before returning to the deck, silent in anticipation.

  I move over on the steps to seek out his warmth, finding myself on the lower step between his legs. He instantly feels uncomfortable. I turn to him and he grabs my hands and begins to say something. I stand without letting him finish, or even begin really, telling him to come with me.

  I walk to his room and open the door. Without words, in the soft light of his lamp, I usher him to sit on the bed before slowly I begin undressing. Watching him watching me, enjoying the moment of his eyes discovering my raw self, feeling him burning into me with those eyes while he sits back and takes me all in. I’ve never really celebrated my body nor allowed her rawness to fill a space like this, with a man desiring all my curves. I’ve never loved my body before, like I do in this moment, acknowledging her beauty, with all my parts bare in front of Sam. Standing before him my body is on fire. His eyes burn into me and I wait, holding this space for him to take me all in. I enjoy him exploring me as our friction continues to build. Finally, his eyes meet mine, his want penetrating as my confidence rises with his need. He stands, so I move towards him, grabbing his shirt and say, “I’ll do it.”

  I begin undoing his shirt, reaching my hands along his chest and running them over his shoulders and down the inside of his shirt. His eyes scorch into me. I brush my nipples against him, and he pulls me closer, his tongue searching for me, hands on my breasts. In one fluid move he turns me around, gently laying me on his bed. He stands, removing the rest of his clothes. I’m given a brief moment to take in his manhood before his body lands on top of me. My confidence is immediately out the window, as I see he’s big. Sam looks at me with intent, pausing and seeking my permission. I appreciate his gesture and acknowledge him, saying “please.”

  I’m caught in my own energy of what is happening and then he’s inside me. “Sam,” I gasp a little too loudly. He feels the slight pain in my voice, searching my eyes. I reassure him, “I just need to get used to you, slowly.” I take a breath and get lost in the sensation of him, the heat, the burning of him as we find our flow. Sam comes, and my body is still caught in the moment. He knows it and reaches for my womanliness, discovering my body, feeling those hands everywhere, as they search out my pleasure parts, following my moans. My body plots the course for him, and he can hear my soul crying out. I shudder underneath him, our bodies entangled, and he owns me again and again. I’m lost in the pleasure of him, the feel of his energy inside me, I want him deeper. He knows I’m ready for our bodies to take over, and they do. Hours roll by in touch, in unleashed pleasure and purity of connected sex, again and again. Both of us trying to alleviate our pent-up energy, that grows in desire, despite our releases. I collapse into sleep, surrounded by him, arms holding me close, held in his presence. My body still shuddering and aching from him, as he sleeps quietly while holding my hips.

  I wake, still in his arms. Peeling myself away from him, I reach for the blanket on the ground and head into the bathroom. I hold myself and check my womanly parts. Holding my warrior woman, I connect to my vulnerable parts, taking note of my heart’s feelings and asking her how she is. She swells in a wave of emotion, embracing the feeling and the sensation of him. I head outside and find myself on the stairs, wrapped in his smell, his taste, him, under the last of the night stars. I again feel my womanly body. She feels different, the fire that’s in my belly, basking in the hours of that man’s tongue all over my body, a giggle at my own boldness and feeling of my sensual self, the slight rocking, reconnecting to his flow, the dance of my body beneath him establishing our connection.

  HIM | Twenty-six

  The tension rises as we eat, I urge us to retreat to the deck after dinner. The space of the outdoors eases our anticipation. Evie moves to sit between my legs. Her proximity challenges my ability to be slow. Her closeness feels brilliant, and yet anytime she’s close to me, I feel like I have to be very careful. I’m desperately trying to restrain myself as I want her to lead when she is ready, not to feel pressured. I need to be careful, her aroma is intoxicating.

  She suddenly stands, grabbing my hand, and says come with me, dragging me off the step. I’m desperately wracking my brain, trying to come up with something that doesn’t sound stupid, that “I really care about her” and “slow.” I give up, relinquishing control to her.

  I sit on the bed as she starts taking her clothes off, seductively, uncovering more of her beauty. She’s strong, and the curve of her hips call to me. She’s not sure and incredibly sexy at the same time, as the space electrifies around us. She has scars on her stomach and legs. I notice but
don’t linger, as her heavy breasts are released for me, nipples soft pink, waiting for my tongue to tug on them hard.

  Struggling to contain myself, I need to lay her down on the bed, desperate to feel her softness embracing my cock before I explode. Her nipples are hard now against my chest. I draw her in, tasting her with my tongue. I lay her down, standing back. Watching her eyes, I let her see me all of me, watching those eyes erotically trace my body. I need to know her. She opens herself to me and with my body against her she says “please.” I tilt her hips slightly, entering her deeply. Watching her face, with her eyes lighting up as she calls out my name. The oily scent of sex hangs in the air. I hesitate but she encourages me to slowly move, rocking against her hips, gently for as long as I can. She feels amazing and it’s not long before her warmth and softness caressing me takes me to my limit. I watch as her body trembles, looking into her eyes. I reach for her, I need to know her, feel all of her. She leans into my touch, adjusting her hips and opening herself to me, meeting my thrusts.

  Shit, I came quickly.

  I can feel her arching and immediately I begin exploring. Watching her, seeing how she responses to my touch. My tongue feels all of her parts, listening to her sex, tasting her, letting our naked selves get to know each other. I can’t believe this sexy woman is letting me explore all of her.

  She falls asleep in my arms, spent, with my scent all over her. My mind is blown. Holding her body against me feels so surreal. Even my cock is nuzzling into her. The thought makes me hard again. Fuck, this feels fucking amazing and terrifying. The fucking intensity, wow. When a woman looks at you as a man, you feel superhuman, and that’s how she looks at me.

  I wake to an empty bed, and an aching cock, yearning for her. I find her naked on my front porch, thank the Lord. She stands upon realising I’m behind her, opening the blanket out to her nakedness and calling me to join her, arms open, revealing all of her to me. She attempts to wrap me in a blanket I don’t need. I’m entertained by her efforts and playfulness.