Love me, Loudly

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Love me, Loudly Page 15

by Jess Kolbe


  She responds to my cock calling to her, and out comes this woman, who takes control, feeling the tip of me first, all the while keeping my focus. She comes down hard and deeply, arching her body to take as much of me as she can. A growl crawls out of me, she feels epic, holding my eye contact, boldly commanding our flow. I’m feeling all of her, my hands wrapped around those hips steadying her, encouraging her while feeling complete ecstasy at each hip thrust as she expresses herself.

  HER | Twenty-seven

  My thoughts are full of flashbacks of our bodies, our experiences, the nature in which we came, the surrender of my body, to him, the feel of his hands, of him. My thighs throb as the memory of our dance beats through my mind, followed by the hormonal cascade of those emotions attached to our night.

  I turn as I hear the screen door open behind me in all his glory. In the breaking of the day, my man stands before me in all his glory. I immediately open the blanket, revealing my naked body. He smiles and joins me. “How’d you sleep?” I smile, attempting to fit him in the blanket with me. I stand and wrap myself around him, my thighs still throbbing from last night. He immediately he shows me that he has other ideas and my thighs find a new strength. I surrender to the feeling of him and hold my wild woman gently against him, easing myself on to my man, embracing my man with my most intimate parts. A deep growl rises up and out of him and it’s like a call to my wild heart inside me. Encouraging her, she takes over. Sam steadies my hips and I set her free. Holding his gaze, his eyes alive and wild looking back at me, he surrenders to me, to my flow, to us, the tug of war emerging in between pleasure and surrender. I feel the warmth of the rising sun on my bare back and wonder in awe of my womanly self, taking her man on the stairs, unleashing and allowing my body to lead, submitting to the purity of us.

  Exhausted, I curl up on him and after we catch our breath, he lifts me up. My legs are tingling and weak. Sam half carries me, and I half walk to the bathroom, where we shower together in silence. Sam washes my body with kisses and hot water, towel drying me, finally dressing me in one of his t-shirts despite my clothes being right there and putting me straight back into his bed. I think he kisses me on the forehead, although my sleepiness can’t confirm this. After a few hours I wake and find a note next to the bed. “Evie, working, text me.”

  I get up, grab a coffee, and check into my body, physically and mentally. Holding myself, holding my newly emerged, womanly strength. I’m proud of myself. I’m proud that I expressed myself lovingly and genuinely. How she feels and, holy wow, my legs, my thighs are so sore. I smile at the thought of him leaving his mark on me and I like it. A few yoga moves will stretch them out.

  The feel of the place without Sam is nice. I don’t feel uncomfortable in his space, in fact it feels comforting, and, well, it gives me time to process, to think about all the things I want to do to him.

  I eat some fruit, stretch out, and make like a cat on the makeshift daybed in the sun. Allowing Mother Nature to warm my body, I resist the urge to bask naked in the sun, opting to stay in his t-shirt. I feel the sexiness of my body, with his shirt not really covering very much, and I feel empowered in my body and my sex. Our flow came so easily! I smile at our slight tug of war and hope that it continues. I text him a picture of me lying in his shirt in the sun. He responds with a cheeky shirtless shot of himself, all sweaty. That right there, my friends, well!

  Within an hour, he returns and I’m still laying in the sun sort of snoozing. I tell him to put a shirt on, that he’s shameless walking around half naked! He pounces on me straight away, attempting to take his shirt back to put away his nakedness. After some playful wrestling, he settles on the daybed with me and tells me what he’s been up to while I’ve been in the lap of luxury. The conversation moves from new fences to how my body feels, while he checks me over with his hands. I blush at the unusual topic of conversation while my man is holding my lady parts. Sam smiles at how my body responds to him. I tell him she is well rested. At that, Sam eyes light up, “I’ll go clean up.” I grab his hand, “please don’t! I like you like this. I want to feel you like this, sweaty and manly.” Before I can finish my words, we are skin to skin, his mouth searching my body, completely lost in his touch.

  “Take me like this Sam.” Lying naked on the sunbed the heat of him pouring over me, he’s lying on his side, his manhood resting on my thigh, me holding his hand, stroking his fingers with mine. We talk about his dreams for the farm. His ideas freely roll out of him, his excitement clear. He talks about wanting to create what the farm was like when he was little. I move on to my side to directly face him. He immediately adjusts the pillow and himself to make sure I am comfortable, with a soft kiss on my shoulder. I reach to hold him in that space, to feel him close, to lean into him and the feel of him being attentive.

  Sam feels different here, his eyes sparkle differently, he lets me hold the space of his nearness, he feels softer than I anticipated. I try to articulate to Sam how incredible he feels here, like home. He smiles at me and traces the outline of my nipple with his fingertips and then his lips. Even though he didn’t respond with words, his tenderness showed me his acknowledgement.

  The afternoon is a blur of kisses, pleasure, laughter and exploring our each other. Our playful desire continues while experiencing one another, gentle wrestles, testing and feeling each other out through touch and intimacy. I have found he is strong in connection. In his search of my soul in my eyes, our souls dance. He seeks out and holds my gaze, like my eyes are windows for him. He is even more protective than I could have imagined, his passion equal to his care for me. His eyes are full in protection and nurturance. His wanting to care for me only builds my trust. He follows the teachings of my body, to points I have not known.

  I have my first trauma trigger. I knew I would eventually. I tried to prepare, I’ve had little ones and kept the monsters from Sam. Not this one though. I froze. I expected it, never ready for it, momentary panic. I think Sam knew something was up, but then again, I can’t be sure. We are embracing, him on top. The sensation of being trapped, caught, and the world stopped briefly, as does my breathing. Frozen. Squeezed my eyes shut, I instigate a position change, slowing our tempo to aid in my panic subsiding while fixing on his eyes, seeking to take control, to create safety, focusing on the physical in front of me, the present, feeling into what is happening right now. Sam. Taming my monsters, my thoughts repeating: he’s mine, you can’t have him. That bear hug type, I can’t be freed, feeling trapped, depths of my body immediately rigid, beginning to turn to ice. Pained, I breathe, slowly, purposefully. Right to the deepest pit of me. Reach out, I grab my anchor, hold my heart, and return to my body. Coaching myself through the terror, allowing the trigger to be there, but focusing on rewriting the experience. It was a moment. I knew would come, so I was able to work with my sensations as I’ve learnt so much about how they act out. Firstly, stuck in concrete, paralysed cold sweat, mind completely slow, then run, feelings of move now, followed by dread, trapped, a flood of images and sensations of what happened to me, voiceless dreams, all at once. I go through the checklist, encourage and accept new feelings. I am not allowing my trauma to taint my Sam, or this moment.

  Practice, Evie. Practice the uncomfortable, practice the pain, the new, you will feel triggered while you reclaim this you. It rolls through my mind like a kindness mantra. Stay with Sam. Telling myself to feel in him, he’s safe, you’re safe, trust yourself, spinning around my head. Without realising, Sam’s gentle hands are nurturing me. My god, he makes me feel safe. Control helps me, it helps me to be intimate, when his connection terrifies me.

  Does he know?

  The tenderness of his care pushes me back into the light, and my panic doesn’t turn into my demons taking control. I am called forward by my heart into love, the love that is within me, that I am born to give. Again, he steadies me while my warrior self, fights demons, wins and returns to his arms.

  Does he know my story?

  Late in the afterno
on, Sam sits straight up in bed and announces, “I have something for you!” And he’s up and away! As I put on his t-shirt, he looks me up and down and says, “you won’t need that.”

  He takes me to the back deck. Right in the middle with pipes running from the laundry is an old clawfoot bath. I’m speechless, frozen. I previously mentioned that in my dream home I’d love an outdoor bath. I look at him, overwhelmed, fighting back tears and the giant fucking lump in my throat. Dumbfounded. He listened to me and created this for me. I’m barely able to contain myself, when he looks up like a man who is going to be endlessly thanked for his thoughtfulness and says, “hot bath?” I just stand there staring at him. He walks over, kissing my forehead before leaves me. I’m desperately trying not to cry, failing of course. He has no idea what this means to me, how this makes me feel, what it means, that if I didn’t love him I do now. A massive gesture like this, although small to some, is enormous to me because it signifies being heard, accepted and honoured. No one has ever taken the time to show up for me like this. I have never felt special. The bath is ready to go after the smallest amount of time, steam rising, afternoon sun saying her goodbyes. It’s dreamlike.

  I’m not sure if I’m in shock or not. My thoughts are telling me to wake up, that it’s all not real. I walk over towards him where he is crouched down checking the water temperature. Holding my arms up in the air, he follows my lead, running his hands up my legs and removing his t-shirt. As I am slowly easing my body into the bath with the aid of Sam’s tender touch, it’s beyond bliss.

  The sun is almost behind the hills in the distance, it’s golden hour. The water is scalding hot and I’m in heaven. I don’t care if Sam sees my tears of emotion; I am unable to speak. How does this happen for someone like me? I try to wrangle my hair, failing at the mess and rolling back into the water, setting myself free to soak. Sam leaves me for a while, so I submerge myself in the disbelief of this magical moment, of being worshipped, of the woman that is shining through and being held in who she is, who I am. Giving myself full permission to feel all of my emotional self. I really like her, this me. I love that she’s honestly real in what she feels, good and vulnerable. I’m not trying to be someone I am not. This is a massive gesture of kindness that I will never ever forget. One moment of appreciation, of thoughtfulness, can enable a lifetime of love. I stretch my body, bending her and feeling her. She feels different, she feels alive and loved. My body is tired, raw and tender, and yet alive in the same vein, in ways I’ve not known. The moment of solitude allows time for my body and heart and mind to come back to the ground, for me to check in with all my parts, showing her love and kindness for the gifts she has given me. I glide my hands over myself, nurturing, celebrating her femininity, thanking her feel. I feel powerful. I feel my body is stronger than I ever knew, that wild warrior who has so many parts, including her resolve, her strength, all being loved, nurtured and brought to life, all being awed by a beautiful man and by me. The little girl who is scared to be hurt, has been kissed and held; the confident woman stands tall in her beauty; the unsure, overwhelmed, emotional woman has had her fear subsided, shocked, embraced and allowed, fears expressed and felt. The wild warrior who stepped out of the shadows, perhaps only in a glimpse, tasted her man. All the parts of my body are expressed and freed in front of him, now all of which are slowly coming together inside me, the evolution of my emotional selves, good or bad. Those horrors that ruled over me in the darkness, that I’d thought shameful, I’d thought unlovable, damaged, that lived because of what happened to me, old hurts, are now coming together to receive a tender hand in trust.

  I smile with a tear rolling down my face, holding my inner self and thanking my body, my heart and my mind. The trust within me to experience emotion freely allowed myself to unhook from the need to control and allow love to be set free from the cage within me. The realisation that love is not external, it’s a response that ignites within you from what you already have within, hence why people always go on about self-love first. I learnt to trust myself as me, who I am and it’s the love I have for me that helps me to feel this now. Gazing at the sun dropping behind the hill as the colours change the skyline, a bright tangerine with soft pink fairy floss clouds against the dark green hills, entirely dreamlike. I would do almost anything Sam wanted, trusting in his heart’s desires. I dream about what that might involve. I feel like I am in slow motion and the rest of the world is in fast forward. I continue to dream a little of love. Every ounce of me feels in awe. I think this is what happiness would feel like. I realise Sam is behind me, not sure for how long, he must have realised my moment.

  Hopefully he’s not too spooked by my emotion. I’m puzzled as he has my bathroom bag in hand and a cup. “I thought you might like to wash your hair” Sam manages to stumble out. He truly must have known I was deeply immersed in my feelings and completely unable to contain them. I smile at his kindness and let him know that I don’t have the energy to do it. My body is happy and I’m giving permission to submerge myself in these sensations and love it.

  He smiles, dragging a chair over. “Sit forward.” He speaks in a tone I don’t recognise. I immediately comply. His voice is tender and firm, as he looks at me with care and I follow every instruction. He is intense, and the most natural and sexy thing of my life occurs. Sam, with those amazing hands, manly, rough and lived, those hands that pushed my body, that search out my dark corners, show new depth to tenderness and intimacy. I think it unexpectedly overwhelms both of us. While he washes my hair, rubbing my shoulders, affectionately rinsing my hair, I am searching for the feel of it now. The warm water, the pink sky, my feminine self, the focus he has. Each touch sends waves of love and care throughout me. Goosebumps begin covering my body and my fears of falling completely in love with him rise from my dark parts. I know I can’t go back now, but nor can I stop the avalanche of my love building for him. A shiver creeps out across my body. He assumes I’m cold, but actually I’m experiencing a wave of fear, that if I lost him now, I don’t know if I could recover, I don’t know if...

  I stop, forcing the thoughts away as he tops my bath up with warm water then thankfully sinks into the bath behind me. His arms rest on my tummy. I curl up, embracing his arms and resting my head on his chest. My happiness just pours out of me, the emotions of the last month, the feel of him in this very moment, feeling safe and nurtured. I don’t need control, Sam has me.

  I announce “Sam, you were right, I would only need one bath in my dream home.”

  For the first time in my life, I trust someone and receive pure love. I allow this man to love me and accepting his protection and tenderness. The tears briefly flow. He knows. I feel him get uncomfortable and he sits with it.

  I eventually tell him, “It’s been a big few months. You make me feel safe and protected. I’m choosing to enjoy it and not shield you from my emotions.”

  We watch the stars become bright in the sky and leave the bath. It’s cold and I’ve begun shivering, although I’m not sure how much of the shiver is the cold and how much it is the years of emotional baggage and perhaps the beginning of an emotional hangover.

  It doesn’t matter.

  I just let go of a little and allowed my true self to shine.

  I firmly announce, to break the emotional energy, that I’m cooking and with limited options, shared omelettes and frozen chips it is. While I go about figuring out his kitchen, Sam starts preparing a fire in the lounge. I can hear him moving things around and making a lot of noise, and then building a fire. I’m in a trance already from the crackle of the flames. I can’t even see it, but the sound, the smell, transports me there anyway. My body sensations are so amplified, everything feels like the volumes been turned up loud, like I can feel the fire on the inside of me and all my senses are heightened. Every cell in my body is awakened - love does that. My internal voice shakes as the thought of leaving passes through my mind, sensations of terror and joy, followed by “No.” Begging myself to let that thought train c
ontinue to roll on by.

  The weekend has been perfect. I have been myself, whole heartedly and felt accepted. I get a flicker of the weight of tomorrow, with reality bearing down on us. I don’t want to leave and I’m not even sure this weekend happened. Pushing back the creeping darkness, I refocus on dinner and reconnect myself to the moment in front of me, him. I couldn’t tolerate hearing “I’m still not sure” to come out of his mouth now, after all, that we’ve shared, all that he’s done for me this weekend. It couldn’t be possible, he wouldn’t...

  I’m startled, turning to see Sam dragging his mattress into the lounge room where the fireplace is. I smile at his sheer brilliance.

  We eat with soft music and the roaring fire in the background from the lounge. The fireplace easily heats the house, and I no longer feel cold, despite still shivering. After dinner Sam strokes my hand and says, “come to bed with me.” His voice is tired, but purposeful. I stand with a smile and we walk into the lounge. He’s laid out candles, the mattress is in front of the fire and soulful tones are playing. It’s simple but elegant. The fire is well alight now and the pungent wood burning smell fills the room.

  Sam undresses me, starting by untying my hair. He brags about his excellent efforts as he softly pulls my hair out, before bending forward to run his fingers slowly up my body to remove his t-shirt that I am still wearing followed by my underwear. I stay standing while he undresses, walking me over to the mattress laying me down in front of the fire. The warmth tingling on my skin. Sam kneels and takes me all in. His gaze is soft and exploring, while his fingertips continue to dance up and down my legs, my thighs. He bends, scattering kisses all over my stomach. It feels lovely and yet the creeping fear in the darkness, his level of intimacy and connection frightening me, take the lead Evie. I’m already aware of Sam’s needs, so I focus on him, it feels safer for me. Our bodies blur in our touch, our scent circles the air, oily. His want, impatiently showing now, draws me into our nakedness, our stripped bare, self-exposed and wanting, needing release. I stretch my body over him, as agony and bliss surround us, battling each other, inside me. Sam is full and heavy, gasping for air, pained by the closeness of my key to his release. The heat between us, the sweetness of him, allow our pleasure centres to climb their way out toward each other. His manhood takes me, pushing deep into my soul. A wild cry flows out of me, followed by moans pleading for him to NOT stop. He takes me hard. I’m squirming underneath him, body shaking from the inside out. His own groan is loud and earthy, holding my hands down above my head, my hips tilting to feel his final throbs inside me. We exchange sweet kisses until Sam pulls me on top of him, falling asleep with him tenderly holding all of my body.

 

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