The Moonlit Pillow: The Erotic Writings of Skye Leroux

Ugly.

Damaged.

Stupid.

One by one, the links are forged in your own mind, by your own hands.

Fat.

Awkward.

Clumsy.

The links turn into chains, willingly accepted, binding you to your own blindness.

The chains we forge ourselves and wear of our own volition are the ones that are hardest to break. And break them we must, because no one has the key.

Lots of men had told her she was beautiful, that they desired her, that she was sexy. They were liars–all looking for a roll in the hay followed by a quick exit from the barn. This she knew; this she believed.

Lots of other men had played “if only” with her: “If only you were thinner”…”If only you were graceful”. She hated them even more than she hated the liars.

She moved through life, by herself, and the chains made it so hard to move, so hard to make progress, so hard to change. She didn’t have the energy to try–the chains drained her.

She noticed him for the first time at a meeting of the book club she attended. He had a kind face–not that one could rely on that for any real insight into a person. They were reading “The Lover’s Dictionary: A Novel”, which she thought was far too personal a book for a book club choice. She didn’t feel comfortable sharing her inner-most thoughts on relationships with people she hardly knew, but she noticed that he was very forthcoming and shared some very wise insights. That piqued her interest, and she began to pay more attention to him at the gatherings.

She watched him before the meetings began, and saw that he was greeted by just about everyone in the group with warmth. Even though she was often too far away to hear what was being said, she knew that people must like him for his sense of humor–he was always making them laugh. She wondered if she would find him funny.

She started sitting a little closer to him when she could, although that was not always possible since she chose to come very close to the start time of the meeting. She listened and observed him discreetly and she did indeed find him funny. Once or twice she even had to turn away because she was smiling.

When they started the next book, she began coming to the meetings early. He was there when she arrived and he greeted her warmly, even referring to her by name. She was impressed by that. Even more, she continued to be impressed by his sense of humor and his obvious wisdom and intelligence. As time went on, she found that they were talking before and after every meeting. In spite of herself, she found she was thinking about him a lot.

Eventually he asked her to have coffee with him after the meeting. She really couldn’t say no since the coffee shop was right in the bookstore where they had their meetings. Conversation flowed comfortably between them, and when he asked if she’d like to have dinner with him on Friday night she smiled sincerely and said yes.

One dinner led to another, and to shopping trips, walks in the park, movies, plays, concerts, and museums. There was a lovely first kiss in a darkened doorway after a dinner date, and there had been several passionate make-out sessions at both of their apartments. She noticed that he never pushed himself on her; things always seemed to just take their course. She also became aware that somewhere deep in her soul, her chains felt lighter and looser. There were no games with him and there were no “if onlys”. He seemed to like her just as she was, and that made her like herself.

They’d been out for dinner and a movie and were heading back to her place for some quiet time. She turned to him while he was driving and asked if he would stay the night with her. She couldn’t believe she’d let the words escape from her mouth, but they were out there now. She was so busy fretting, she almost missed it when he said he would love that.

They sat around on the couch with the TV on, cuddling and kissing. He was touching her in a way that was familiar to her now: like she was a gift. As he ran his hands over her body, he murmured things softly: things like “perfect” and “beautiful” and “sexy”. She smiled.

Finally, she stopped him and stood up, reaching for his hand. She led him to her bedroom and they stretched out on the bed together. He undressed her slowly, and she helped him out of his clothes as well. Time didn’t mean a thing; he lingered over every part of her. Somewhere, she could hear cooing and purring–she almost laughed when she realized it was coming from her.

At exactly the right moment, he rolled her over and slipped inside of her–so slowly and so sweetly. Still and quiet like the night sky, he looked down upon her and smiled. He loved her well and fully, making her cry out so many times that he lost count.

Covered by her cries were sounds only she heard: clink, clang, clunk…as every link of every chain that had ever held her fell away. Her heart soared; her spirit rested; her soul found peace.

With him, she was finally and truly unfettered.

~ by skyeinmoonlight on January 18, 2012.

Posted in Personal HIstories