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The first time Pat and I made love, I laughed all the way through it. I thought he might think I was laughing at him. But I suppose it was clear that I was laughing with happiness, release, joy. He asked when we could see each other again and I said tomorrow. I wanted that again. I wanted more of that sweet rich pleasuring. As soon as possible. That second time we made love, I cried. I held onto him, wracked with sobs that shook from the belly, my cheeks wet. I had found what I had been without for too long. Now that I no longer had to bear the pain, it had become unbearable. |
© Copyright John Hanson 2010 |