Forbidden Awakening

A new job, a new home, how was I to know you lived in the same neighborhood much less that you were my next door neighbor? Life had dealt me some pretty hard blows. I was only trying to recover and heal.

Opening my door to a knock you were the last person in the world I expected to see on the other side welcoming me to the neighborhood.

Your invitation in days to follow to walk in the wooded area behind our homes was friend to friend. Our past romantic relationship seemed far, far away.

It was the image of the lake: I saw death in the ripples of the moon. Death to the resolve I had to not allow your touch to reach through to my heart, my soul. I whispered in your ear, caressing you with warm, loving hands. A crow cawed in the distance as the crickets chirruped. Weeping willows, briars, huckleberry and blackberry bushes had ravenously multiplied. The lake was a natural fortress guarded by thick trees and vegetation. It seemed a timeless oasis—a separate world where things could be forgotten.

Things like you being married and forever unable to be solely mine. Things like neither of us wanting to consciously hurt your wife who you love and whom I have tried to be friend to. Things like the disgust and hate the boys would feel toward us both if they knew your very touch was like fire melting ice to me.


We walked through the woods as sprinkling rain floated off of fallen logs and foliage. The idea that wandering about with a married man might get me into trouble crossed my mind. With each step, we moved deeper into the heart of the woods where the rules of society lost out to the carnality of the soul. The gentle rain penetrated our clothing and chilled us to the bone. We reached a clearing where the lake trembled and the trees bowed. A large mouth bass leapt from the crystal waters he called home and gave us a wave with his tail.

“This will be our place,” I said. You raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

The wind picked up and leaves swirled around us. I realized that this place in the woods would always be burned into my heart, and that I had exposed myself to you in the most vulnerable way.

Our love was like no poetry ever read; too explosive and unconstrained for the ridged sonnet form, and more complex than the longest epic in blank verse. Words flowed from your fingertips as though you were receiving inspiration from our surroundings. We will return to the lake in the woods where we will once again orchestrate our symphony away from the noises of the world.

The woods is not the only place the music of our love plays. Your wife works while we are both at home many times. Even when she is home, she is wrapped tightly in her own cocoon anxious for you to be about your business...anywhere but in her delusional world where only the thought of your touch produces a migraine or other malady. It is then I hear soft footsteps underneath my window and the door eases open inviting you in.

I reminded myself this could only lead to unknown depths of hurt and isolation in the end. I was being baptized into the grace of reality and reminded you of the same. Both adults, (whatever that may mean) we still share a need to have someone to care about us, to love us, to want to hold, touch and please us... not always in the throws of passion either.

We share a deep seated need to simply hold hands while drinking coffee and watching the morning sun awaken; a need to share the beauty of the hummingbirds as they flitter to and fro in the daylight hours; a yearning to share even the small things of our day, laughter and summer breezes, our dreams, our disappointments and only for another human to care. My head resting peacefully on your shoulder as you hold me quietly is balm to my soul.

Telling you of the years of hurt and abuse I had suffered at the hands of my ex-husband, revealing how inadequate I had felt when my marriage had failed and how I had been unable to even feel desire with another man since he had left. Your warmth and understanding endears you to me and your sexy and flirtatious ways tempted me to delve into the world of yearning for a man's touch on my body once again.

And that causes passion to erupt with volcanic strength, to dispel the cavernous aloneness we have both felt for such a long time. It has filled a void that has been empty within me for entirely too long.


I sigh and surrender to your embrace. How is it that a single hug can make me feel so at ease? Being lost in your arms is intensely blissful, washing away years of hurt and rejection, replacing them with feelings of acceptance and belonging.


Your tongue slips between my lips sending waves of electricity shooting down through my body awakening sensations long forgotten and quickly welcomed. You relinquish your hold on my hands only to slide your hands up my arms until you hold my face gently and kiss me with the tenderness of first love sweethearts and the passion of well-acquainted lovers. A subtle moan slips from my mouth as your tongue searches out mine, drawing it deeply into your waiting mouth. I give my mouth to you, openly and without reservation feeling your silken tongue stroking my lips before taking them gently between your teeth.

I gasped feeling that familiar wetness that only a man can bring on in a woman.

How wonderful it is to have someone resuscitate such a heated bodily response when I thought those feelings would forever be barred to me.

Your hot wet lips worked down to my delightfully sensitive neck and began to bite and suck the soft skin found there as your free hand manipulated the buttons of my blouse exposing the lace bra that restrain my taught breasts. This time it is your turn to moan. The sight of my breasts with nipples standing at attention was almost more than you could bear. You wanted me, now.

You proceeded to free my breasts from their confines, marveling at the nipples perched proudly on my soft small breasts. They seemed to call to you, begging you to be take and tease them. You were quick to oblige. Stooping down to my breasts, you flicked the erect nipple with the tip of your tongue and watched in amazement as it nearly doubled in size. I couldn't help being so responsive to your slightest touch. You can feel me tense and tremble as I've never done before.

My body had a mind of its own as I trembled beneath your exquisite touch. Every sensation felt virgin and vibrant and consumed me totally. The wetness below graced my thighs with its presence. Without even thinking your hand automatically made its way between my thighs seeking the juices that you knew to be sweet. As your fingers glided gently over my clit I shuddered. Two fingers worked their way inside immersing themselves in the warm slippery wetness of my aching womanhood. I reach up and circle my nipple knowing the sensations it evokes in you.

The ache in your balls grew intense as your desire rose.

"I want you to make love to me. I want you to show me what it is to be a woman again," I whisper in your ear. I knew you would be the one to reunite me with my sexuality.


"Oh baby, it will be my absolute pleasure to make love to you." And with that said, I took your hand leading you to my waiting bed.

Would it be the perfect encounter I had dreamed of? Would I be pleasing to you? I want to give you as much pleasure as you deserve.

It is important to me that I be as sexy and desirable to you as you are to me. I desperately need to know that I still have that sensual ability to make someone crumble at my touch. My ex-husband had certainly had no complaints. He claimed it was my best attribute. I had taken pride in my ability to pleasure my man, always seeking new and imaginative ways of keeping passion alive. It had worked until someone new came along.

That was then; this is now. Can I possibly measure up to your wants, your desires in a woman? Will you soon lose interest in me too? Will my world revert back to the dark void it was in when you reached through the darkness to awaken me? How long will we continue?

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