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ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Imaginary Conversations
By Alexn
Ani I
Start leading, start leading, start leading me on now
I remember the first time I saw you. No, I remember the first time you saw me. I felt you more than saw you. No one has ever looked at me the way you did, before or since.
You were talking to someone else, another woman, you were leaning into her, your arms on either side of her, possessively. Yet it was me you were looking at. I'm sure she didn't notice you'd already moved on; you're that good. You kept your bridges unburnt; that should have been a sign. A big neon flashing sign.
You we're subtle enough that she thought you were paying attention to her, but you were already trying to decide how I tasted; oh, I knew what that look meant. I did. I wasn't used to seeing it in a stranger's eyes. It was so frankly sexual I had no idea what you could possibly say when you approached me. If just looking at me was visual foreplay, who knew what the words that would slide out of your mouth would do to me.
If you were a man I'd have been offended, intruded on, I'd have been uncomfortable and embarrassed. I'd have tried to hide myself, closed my jacket over me. But you, you were so confident; it was sexy; I welcomed you in without thought. I took my jacket off; it was cold, it made no sense. I could feel my nipples whether that was you or the temperature, I'll never know.
That's what it is; you disengage my fontal cortex and all that's left is primitive, the animal part of my brain. You could have persuaded me to fuck you in bathroom right then and there without ever saying a word. Something I never would have considered and now I was planning. That should have been the second neon sign, point away from you, saying" run, run away."
You scared the hell out of me and I wasn't going to show you that. You saw it anyway. You knew me; you knew exactly what to do and what to say. You could read that a one-night stand would not get you what you wanted. You prefer to spend some time getting to know who you are conquering, so you can completely own them; you can't do that in a one night stand.
Now all I can think about is that you own everything, don't you, Gina. You were owning her and moving on to me. Later, when you owned me, you moved on too.
You own everything and nothing.
Gina I
Take me as I am or leave me.
Obviously, the right choice would have been to take me as I am, not to leave me and certainly not leave me so completely. What's so wrong with the way I am? I am completely honest. I never lied and I never cheated. Those are good traits, ya know.
I am holding Traci and thinking about you. It's ridiculous. She is hot; she is into me; she's into what we're doing and I'm thinking about you.
She wants what you wanted, a commitment and she isn't even you. Why does everyone need what I can't give? It's asking for a sacrifice to the great Goddess monogamy. Here's the proof I love you; I'll give up sex for you. It's what we all want right? The white picket fence, two cats in the yard and two point five children. Waking up to the same woman day after day. After a bit there is nothing new, no adventure, no stone un turned. We run out of positions, the toys get bring and the games are repetitive. It's why people have children; it's the excuse for giving up on sex.
If I could have made it work with anyone, it would have been with you. I think you know that. It doesn't make anything any better, I know that too.
You'd joke that I should have been a gay man or even a straight woman. Someone who is into men. It's the desiring women part: their curves, their softness, and their scent-- all that comes with the price tag of monotony. I love you. More than I have loved anyone since, well, since Logan.
You know it's not the waking up to part, I said that wrong. I'd love to wake up to you every day for the rest of my life. I just don't want to go to sleep with you every night. I'd love to be with you as often as we could but I need more. I'm honest here. It's not about you. I'm just wired a little differently, -- fine, a lot differently than your average lesbian.
I can feel Traci's tongue, pushing inside me but it's only you I see. It's you I feel, it's you who explodes inside me. "Ani."
To Be Continued