So much to say to each other, endless debate and sharing. It was an intimacy I had not felt before, an intimacy that came from words alone. We discussed in realtime and we shared onlne. I remember how seemingly simple conversations were like jousting, but not jousting, not conflict, the words pushed boundaries, sometimes it was the subject's that pushed the boundaries but sometimes it was purely the words. I will not be able to explain the power a single word had, we were talking/typing, we had dual conversations, a routine one about the working day, and another about thoughts or feelings. On one occasion without warning he used the word 'kiss' and it was as if a huge glass pane had shattered into tiny pieces, a shield which had been separating us, a shield we would not be able to replace Another boundary broken, would we push further? who would push further?
For so long we met and talked without touch. An incredible awareness of each others physical presence and satisfying it through more verbal challenging . It may have been at this point that I realised the desire for sexual contact is the desire to get as close to someone as possible, to find a way to consume them. Still we did not touch.
The intensity grew, the desire began to build and we savoured the pain, just another way of feeling.We discussed the pain, how alive, how deep the feeling. Still we did not touch.
He makes me think of winter, lying on Brighton beach wrapped in big jumpers, cloud watching as the icy air reddened our skin. Then I think of Autumn, fallen leaves, hand in hand as we wandered.
We touched hands. In hindsight, this is the closest I have been to experiencing tantric sex. I must find a practitioner.
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