Withdrawal.

I couldn't find better words to say this, so I guess I'd just have to say this straight and direct (and cross my fingers and pray intently that my dad hasn't found this site yet).



The one thing that I enjoy in sex, apart from the deed itself, is what comes after: the cuddling, and enclosing myself in my lover's warmth, sneaking my head right onto that place between his head and shoulders and sniffing his scent. I am most certainly a touchy person. I enjoy holding hands and leaning my head on someone's shoulders. I am affectionate, and passionate. I enjoy spontaneous kisses. I am thrilled with simple, sweet gestures: hugging, and running my fingers through his hair. Through those things I show my passion. Through those things I feel that I am special.

I also enjoy after-sex conversations. It's funny how the topics evolve from sex to mundane things, to the things I want to do with my life, to who I truly am, coherently, without pause, with ease. These things tell how comfortable I am with the person I'm with. When we lie there naked, and yet we end up  talking about how our high school classmates changed since we graduated.

Oh, of course, the I'm-going-to-stay-for-the-night-because-you-got-me-really-tired talk, and sleeping beside my lover. Again, body heat, it really makes a good night sleep.

But then, the morning after. Let's skip that.