That Time of Year Give pause. Take a moment to just savour it, taste it on your tongue and become aw

That Time of Year

Give pause. Take a moment to just savour it, taste it on your tongue and become aware of exactly what is going on. Because this isn’t going to happen all the time, these aren’t going to be all that common. Even in a relationship even when it’s a nightly occurrance, that’s still only one hour out of twenty four. Just over 4% of the time, a mere glimmer in the wide scheme of things. So take your time with it, and I don’t mean linger and dawdle. I mean sieze it, grab it, make it your own and don’t just let it blur past, one encounter among many, all of them vague and hazy.

If nothing else, this little world has caused more self-reflection than most, more moments when I’ve suddenly slipped back a little, realised what I’m in the middle of, who’s on my lap, and how much they’re enjoying things. It becomes almost surreal, a little alien vignette that I can’t quite comprehend, and wouldn’t dream of changing. It’s everything I want, fantasy made flesh, and somehow, through some divine grace, my life is the one that’s managed to stumble upon it. 

So I’m grateful, it’s that time of year, right? Grateful that I’m aware enough to enjoy it, and smart enough to understand it. Grateful that I can bring my hand down upon you, and feel the sting of it hours later, conjure up a sensation as if it was a file in a cupboard, and savour it all over again. Remember the clench of your hungry little cunt around my fingers, the soft little ‘O’ of your mouth as you came, and the arch of your back as you shuddered back to earth. I’ve enjoyed every second, taken my time with it, made sure to remember each one. There’s a little blur, around the edges, but most of it’s intact.