It’s funny. When you’re growing up, watching your parents kiss or hold hands makes your stomach hurl. As someone who hates germs, you can barely stand being in the presence of someone who hasnt brushed their teeth. You recoil at the sight of mom and dad showing love before breakfast, you fear that Jennifer has cooties, and viscerally repel any notion of liking anyone whenever a friend teases you if you’d be sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g. You stared at people who don’t look “perfect, “and wonder how anybody could ever be with them because there still a quote work in progress “. And then you watch them tightly embrace their loved ones, and you realize that they were something to learn here, but you still don’t know what that is.
You remember how when your mom hugs you on a Saturday morning after waking up, she doesn’t smell like the perfume and hairspray you usually associate her with, but kinda like your old clothes in the hamper, mixed with a bit of sweat and other body odor. It somewhat humanizes people in your life that you hold sacred. Reminds you that they’re “regular people” too, and do “regular people things” like sleeping, holding hands, and kissing.
Then one day you start to not mind those things that once made you pause. When Jennifer holds your hand, you feel surprised, perhaps e a bit elated. You’re no longer embarrassed if other people see. That when she hugs you after soccer practice, you like the sight and smell of her sweaty hair, grass stains and dirt marks on her jersey. That when she is stressed about a Tuesday morning exam and forgot to do her makeup, she looks prettier than you remember; you almost prefer her without all that extra stuff, because she lets her guard down around you. Maybe you understand how important that is to a person at that age, or maybe you take it for granted. But after you graduate and both of you go on with your lives, you wonder why you don’t feel the same way about the other girls you date.
On winter break, when you meet with her again at a house party with friends, she smiles and you notice lipstick stains on her teeth. Must have been a fun night so far, right? You noticed that her once sinewy legs have now put on little bit of puffiness, that her hair has small streaks of grey, indistinguishable to the undiscerning eye. That her figure is a bit more rounded than you previously remember. But you don’t care. The drunker you both get, the more you notice her breath smells like Budweiser, and not Colgate. But you don’t care. You just feel…good… When you see her. You invite her smile into tour life and give her yours back, fully knowing that she too notices your changes, and also doesnt care. And neither do you. For both of you, it feels like home.
Over the evening, drinks spill over laughs and coy teasing, clothes get stained with the faint aroma of lust and longing. Slowly, as you both tousle each others hair in a secluded corner, you come together to kiss, the depth of your tongues moving in and out of your mouths doesnt seem to phase you. “Cooties” arent something you’re scared of anymore, because of how good and how right it feels to kiss someone you didnt know you love.
When you peel away from each other and wonder if this is a good idea, you notice the remnants of a thin string of spit that’s coming from each of you, one that embraces in the middle of the distance between your lips. As you move in, it falls to the ground like a rope bridge cut in the middle. You smile at how what would once gross you out, endears you. After a nod to each other and go back to slobbering each others lips, with a feral drive and ignorance for public decency, as you make your way to a bedroom.
As you undress each other, the day’s work and your life story is evident on scars and marks you both have and the scent of your bodies. You kiss her and grab her breasts in your hands, squeezing the fat around her nipples until she moans to do it tighter. As you kiss her stomach on your way to her pussy, you taste the beer, the sweat, the perfume and her lust in every lick of your tongue. She grabs herself innetween her legs and rubs her body’s craving for you all over your face, and tells you to go down. And as you do, the aroma emanating from the tufts of unevenly cut pubic hair, her vaginal juices, the lubrication and whatever else mixes together in a beautiful breeze that beckons your tongue. Your saliva and beard hair rub together whatever else selections you contribute to that concoction, and her moans and grasps of your hair signal that you’re doing something right.
Soon comes the time to enter into a place you’ve seldom gone. I need not tell you how that looks or feels. With it brings its own set of sights, sounds, smells, and solace that further reminds you of how what you once felt was uncouth, was now something you very much craved. As you both ravish each others bodies and souls, glancing at each others faces and into each other’s eyes, softly acknowledging your love while harshly asking for more and more passion, you recognize that when you love someone, all of the things that you didn’t know you longed for, are now within reach. Her body, her touch, and her smell is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever felt or known. You crave the feeling of finishing inside her as well as the sounds she makes to let you know she’s pleased. Her pleasure becomes yours, and your’s, her’s. And both of you are all the better for it.
When you’re in love, I suppose all of those things you wanted to avoid, become the things that you most desire. The lagging spit after a hefty kiss, the body odor on a weekend morning, the unique features and imperfections of your partner…That all of the things that make others human, that you used to judge, become reminders of the fleeting time and sobering reality that they are people too. And as you ponder that thought, to enjoy the time you have and live with them in the present, cherishing each passing second, you realize her grip on your arms tightens as she snuggles into you a bit closer. After all, it is winter and one needs to stay warm. When the lights dim a bit and you doze off to bed, you smile a bit knowing that in the morning, you will enjoy the very things you once feared, because you realize the true meaning in being vulnerable. Today and tonight may have been beautiful, but it’s tomorrow morning you look forward to the most.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vt27uy/vulnerable_caring_soft_emotional_aftercare_love
This is beautiful writing!