My Ghost

Yesterday I was alone with my lover for the first time
Five months of subtle touches, knowing glances and low conversations
And for the first time, there were no eyes, no cameras, no questions
Just him and me, holding one another and feeling awkward yet closer than ever
I lifted my heels and kissed him, tasting his lips, nibbling playfully at his mouth
And then just as suddenly, nervousness overcame me and I pulled him by the hand
Let's go back to the conference
There's a crisis that's emerged and I'm sure they'll be looking for me soon

We walk back into the registration area, parting without a word or a glance

This is surreal - I do love him though
I'm just frightened of failure, or maybe just of ending up alone again
Honestly though, being with a ghost is kind of like being alone most days
And yet I'm wise enough to know that I'm never alone... and sensitive enough to feel the eternal connection to the teeming life all around me and all around the planet
This will all work out

The Allure of Hose

Pantyhose pantyhose slide up my thighs
Inviting subtle glances from admiring eyes
Even I can't resist the need to stroke and touch
Without thinking, fingers glide with a whispery rush

A soft hint of protection over delicate warm flesh
A modest containment, such fine silky mesh
Barely a breath between your body and mine
Senses glide along contours, bodies throbbing in time

Push up my skirt curtains and enjoy the main stage
Pull open my blouse so the prima donnas can play
Close both eyes and sense your way to my fire
Open your mind, tear a hole, please your deepest desires

How sweet to be loved in my sheers through the night
With a man who knows how to treat me just right
He takes his time, loves to play and lets me know that he's strong
And while others might unveil, he leaves my hose on

Lost in Space

One day I'm swept up in the passions of love: lifted, exalted, freed and enraptured

And then, just as suddenly, I'm reserved, standing by, on hold, waiting to see

Is this inconsistency normal? Is it a female anomaly - tied to hormonal surges or the phases of the moon?

Or is it part of the human condition - to be content and connected one minute and then doubtful or indifferent the next?

Maybe the highs wouldn't seem so blissful without the lows, maybe I'd take it all for granted and try less...

And certainly I'd have less to strive for if I experienced only mediocrity in my relationships

Today, I don't know where I stand - the morning after confessing long-term inclinations, telling him that I intend to play for keeps (and immediately wishing I'd kept my mouth shut)...

And then suddenly doubting his sincerity... pondering the depth of his passion

Love me? Love me not? Nurture me or use me up? Make me yours or leave me in the dust?

I'm suddenly lost in space, with no point of reference

Is last week's optimism a mirage, dazzling in the sun? Today's reservation a mistaken play of shadows on the wall? Neither? Both??? ...maybe I'm bipolar

I once heard that the definition of love was "staying together, no matter what"

That sounds like something that wife-beaters and alcoholics invented...

But if I want to break this cycle of revolving relationships, I've got to stay on the merry-go-round for more than a couple of turns, even if I'm not sure where it's going

Even if the horse feels strange beneath me

Even if I pretend not to need anyone, or acknowledge the need but resent it... maybe I'm only capable of detached attachments

I guess a couple more turns won't kill me... It's not like I've got anything better to do

And in a day or two, I'll be in a different space, aching for him, wondering what I was thinking when I wrote this and feeling unstoppable

What My Mother Never Knew #20: Dark Intrusion

After sitting on the toilet for about 15 minutes, I decided that knowing who was in my bed was more important than any ill fate that might be waiting. I could hear that he hadn't left the room. I had enjoyed the privacy of this room in the basement for a year or so but now I wasn't so sure. But even if my mom did come downstairs, it would be pretty hard to convince her that I didn't know who was in my bed or how he had gotten there.

I cracked the door and tried to peer into the darkness.... but having come from a lit bathroom I could see nothing. I shut the door and turned on the light. Propped up on my pillow with a Cheshire grin on his face was a guy I knew from up the street. A gorgeous guy who sold us dope once in an while -we'd smoked some with him a few weeks earlier up in the park. He was heartstoppingly sexy in a Jim Morrison, "just passing through" kinda way. He was the last person I'd expected to see in my bed, in the middle of the night, with my mother and step-dad upstairs.... I couldn't believe the nerve.

"How did you get in?"

"The back door was unlocked"

Hmmmm..... I stood there taking this image in, his dark tussled hair, his taught bicepts, his inviting smile.

"You look cold. Why don't you come back to bed?"

I stood there in my oversized Black Sabbath t-shirt, feeling completely shy but secretly thrilled that he'd actually noticed me. I turned out the light and got back into bed.

His mouth was warm and sensuous. Some guys couldn't kiss but this one did it justice. He kissed me in a way that I could feel in both sets of lips, his hunger pressing through a probing mouth, exploring my lips, my tongue, my ears and neck... I opened up to this sexual god, allowing him access once again, consciously this time. He was more muscular than I thought and deliberate in his movements. This wasn't some floundering adolescent, desperate to get his rocks off. This was a passionate, sensitive intruder, totally aware of the female body, teasing out moans and squirms, enjoying the reaction almost as much as his own pleasure.

Shadows move under the sheets, legs spread wider as he enters me, slowly, inviting my lips to reach out and encircle him. I'm now fully engaged, he - fully engorged. We hold this sweet moist-plunge pleasure, frozen on the edge of time, such a beautiful sensation. And then slowly, I squeeze my pussy and he pushes in as deeply as I can receive. We move together and apart - he teases, I laugh, I push him away, feigning resistance. And we make love for what seems like hours. And then, just as the nightingales begin their early song, he slips from my bed, grins at me and then exits just as silently as he must have come in. Wow - now I've been truly fucked.

Driving up to Whistler the next day with my family for a ski vacation, I feel the dull ache in my labia that reminds me of my rock-star lover and I hold the memory in like a toke or a snorted line that continues to deliver it's punch long after the party's over. My best friend later confided that my behaviour that night confirmed to her that I was a full-fledged slut (she had actually done worse than that - and more often), but I guess I didn't mind her thinking that. It is still probably one of the most sensuous memories I've carried; well worth the breech of appropriateness. And it's not like anyone else ever knew about it... until now I guess.

What My Mother Never Knew #20: Dark Intrusion

My recollection of the next year really is just a collection of scattered memories, in random order. Our sole focus was on getting high and of course, guys (but preferably guys with drugs or booze). We picked up tourists downtown if we were broke and they were usually happy to treat us to a bag and a case of beer. I know we frequently let these young hopefuls down by not sleeping with them, but I never really did like sleeping with people I'd just met or people I wasn't in a relationship with.

There was one bizarre night though, just before Christmas when I chose to compromise my values. And when I think back, I'm not sure if I regret it or not. It was very erotic on some level but on the other hand, I wonder if it was a symptom of my own lack of self esteem that I would have even allowed it to happen.

I'd been out with a few friends at a house party where we didn't know anyone. We'd been drinking heavily and when I got home, I passed out almost immediately. Grateful that the bed spin fairy had passed me by that night, I slipped into deep, sedated slumber.

Waking slowly, in a state of disorientation, I realized that I was very horny - and wet. I was in the middle of receiving the most amazing, succulent oral sex and I could feel my hips moving to meet his warm mouth. But becoming more conscious, I realized I had no idea who was going down on me. I sat up with alarm and pulled away from him, an act that seemed a rather feeble attempt at modesty given my passionate moans only moments before. I got out of bed and went to the washroom - trying to buy enough time to figure out what was going on.

Sitting on the toilet, I tried to piece it together.... I couldn't remember anything other than going to bed, alone. And I couldn't figure out who this connoisseur of my vagina might be.

Mediocrity?

The real me lies in waiting, hidden underneath heaps of procrastination, mediocrity and self-absorption. I turn my back on it daily, accepting my own limitations like badly applied tattoos, just part of the barren landscape of my personality (but not my soul). I ache with a dull awareness of my own exceptional potential, and my own reluctance to move beyond the status quo. I cling to my faults, wearing these old sweaters, so comfortable and frumpy.

I'm not a complete fool though - I know I'm selling myself short. Why not gather my strength and get honest about the places I still take refuge in to avoid reality? There's no reason that tomorrow has to be the same as today - I'm under no obligation to continue to pay homage to my limitations. I deserve more.

I trust the universe to show me the way to my highest potential and I place my faith in my own ability to release the real me. It's there somewhere - it HAS to be there!

Leaving the old me behind, I open my sphere of reality. I say YES to something more.

What My Mother Never Knew #19: In The Dark

Back in the groove, I found that there were many wild times. Writing about it is bringing many forgotten escapades to the surface - things I've not thought about in years. Given the number of brain cells that I'm sure I fried, I'm shocked at how much I still remember. This is especially true given the state I was in when most of these adventures took place. I still wish I could remember that night with Sean though....

My fourteenth year was a year of many firsts. One of them was a pretty crazy night with two girlfriends. Lenora and I had occasionally gone out drinking and come home quite horny. I confided in her one night that I had actually done it with a girlfriend back East a number of times when I was 11. She wanted to know more - especially HOW we did it. Too difficult to explain, I showed her. She liked it and our lovemaking became an occasional indulgence, usually in the absence of viable males.

One night though, there were three of us. We had been drinking Southern Comfort and Coke all night and were feeling very cozy. My room was in the basement and my mom and her boyfriend were asleep. She and I thought that Jeanie was asleep and began to feel each other's bodies in the dark. Moving together, I felt her moistness on my leg and returned the gesture. Trying to make no noise made it all the more exhilarating. Her breasts were perfect tight eruptions, pressed up against me. I felt like I was drenched in love. Having her on top of me like this made me forget all our bitchy arguments on those nights when we weren't able to score any dope or find someone to bootleg for us.

I could hear her breathing in my ear, and the faintest moan as I pulled her hips closer to mine. And then I felt someone's hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Jeannie, smiling. We'd never spoken about our exploits to Jeannie and I was actually surprised that she wanted to join in, given her shyness and somewhat more conservative approach to risk taking. We moved over and she pulled off her pj's. I immediately let my mouth find her breast while Lenora let her warm slender fingers reach into me from behind. It was sublime, reaching for each other with such little shyness. I'm sure the darkness and alcohol helped a lot. I felt myself near orgasm a few times but held off, wanting to be last.

Entangled, we gave to each other warmly, each receiving full pleasure and then we collapsed on our nest of sleeping bags and lost nighties. It was a really special night, and such an exciting experience. Being with females has always somehow felt safer to me, less spiritually invasive. There was a slight glitch however, which I discovered the next day. I noticed with alarm that a small hole in my closet wall that led to the TV room next door had all the stuffing removed so that you could clearly see into my room! I don't know for sure how long the hole had been unstuffed and enlarged but I had a nagging feeling that my slightly younger brother may have seen much more than he should have. I've thought about asking him but never had the nerve. I'm not sure I really want to know the answer. It's easier staying in the dark...