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Intimate minds

Published February 6, 2015 by M. Natalia Arocho

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It started off so simple. A few words to get ourselves comfortable with each other, a few questions to quip the interest. And as he started to speak and things began to unravel, it slowly started to happen.

There are those who used their voices like serpents, charmers trying to cloud and feed sweet words that worked to sooth girl’s insecurities. His voice, it didn’t cloud me with seduction, it awakened every want, made me feel alive and ready as no slow seduction and tease could. It was like he knew, he knew that this was what I crave. Not someone to hinder or dampen my senses but to awaken them, get them in tune with all around me.

Though there was traces of want and seduction, I was not a bystander. I was an active participant in his game. As his words came over me, touched me, I in turn replied, my voice flowing over him like water, my thoughts and my intelligence spilling onto him. I was not submissive nor was he dominant, but equal players in this game. It is not submission if both are in agreement and it is not dominating if both agree to disagree.

Oh, his words, they were such sweet caresses that I longed to hear, not charm and sweet sentiments that lashed at me and irritated my skin every time they hit me. I never told him but I didn’t have to. There was no falseness to his claims, how could there be when flaws were not hidden but presented, with no shame but understanding and a need to move on and let go. So vulnerable, baring it all.

And we were, as we continued to speak un-dress ourselves until we were both stripped down with scared and bruises shining black, blue, purple and pink. And those scars, those bruises, we did not avert from or replied with sympathy. We grabbed onto each other, sharing and understanding that pain, like a soft hand soothing but with a firm one grabbing each other, keeping us from the past, from the labeling and keeping from subjecting one another to comparisons of failure.

Closer and closer, our words wrapping around each other, not knowing where one started and one ended. My mind, every part of it, alive and focused on his. Nerve endings tingling, feeling by whole body come alive as if he had touched me but physical touches could not have done this. No, this hunger, this want, no this need, this intelligence wanton was not, could not be fulfilled, satisfied by the physical. If anyone could get any closer, get anymore intimate, we had achieved it. Our minds, colliding, coming together as one. Mind fucked.

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