I remember that feeling… that want so intense and focused that it almost borders need. It haunts and lingers in my mind… my flesh…
I remember that gentle coaxing and guiding… indirect lesions on how to latch and the way it gradually seemed to become completely natural to you… the softness of your voice when I tell you to relax and not worry about groping my chest… the mixture of sigh and moan as your moments become meditation and the point where my body finds your fingers without protest.
Things like tantra and the idea of sacred sex draw me. I wish to experience and live in that feeling once more. I say you ground me but simultaneously it pains to not be able to float away… drift away in a sea of emotion and pleasures…
I recall the quiet… how you said you wished you could spend your everydays with me in this way… your welcome home in my bosom. You said to be there was calming… relaxing… and as much as my sexual side loves the feel of your lips and tongue gently tugging, my spiritual side and sensuality with you were being honest.
I wish you were being honest.
Perhaps my own release and blossoming will be when I am full and worries about not being able to drain my breasts are no more. Maybe I will be more free when I no longer feel this tense longing and my nipples tell of my fulfillment spelled out in each drop.
For now I feel the swelling with no yield and no true release.