[Two and a half years ago, I met MJ for the second time. (I met her for the first time two and a half years before that, funnily enough.) This is what I wrote in my paper journal the day after we parted.]
I need to write, because I don’t want to forget. There are so many things, so much gorgeous detail packed into three days of living.
The biggest, most vivid thing is the night we went to Madame’s. MJ was radiant. She was so excited, thrilled to be out. Her eyes were just glowing the whole time, and she was practically vibrating. So happy and I am so glad to be the one to do all this with her.
She really is gorgeous. Big brilliant blue eyes, big brilliant smile that lights up her whole face - that’s [boyMJ], too of course. I know he hates his smile, because it’s so big, but I love it. It’s funny, the things he doesn’t like about himself are the things I think are lovely. The freckles covering his back and shoulders, the bumps of his vertebrae, those fabulous angular hipbones (I love the way his body feels - such marvelous contrasts…), his tiny, adorable little rear, which he thinks is too small for [girlMJ]…
Anyhoo, back to [girlMJ]. It’s hard to put words to what I want to say, oy. I loved taking her out. She was… so much less nervous than I would have thought. She had surprising confidence, poise. She’s long, beautiful, elegant. Adorable.
This writing is going too slowly. There are so so many things - big things and tiny details, and I don’t want to forget a single bit of it. Perhaps it will be easier, faster if I don’t try to be organized or cohesive.
From the trip two years ago, the sensation I remembered so clearly was the curve of MJ’s waist and hip when she was laying in bed. Even two years later I remembered so vividly how it felt to slide my hand under the flannel pajama shirt and over that warm skin. The strongest tactile memory from this trip is similar. For such a slender person, MJ has the softest little belly. Skin as velvety soft as flower petals. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Even walking down the street, putting my arm around her waist, was a sensual pleasure. Even her feet on my legs in bed felt good. I love the way she slept curled up in my arms. Her head pillowed on my arm, my cheek to her forehead, her legs hooked over mine, my arms around her waist, or her shoulders, or caressing the soft flesh of her belly, her waist, the bones of her hip. Dropping kisses on her forehead, her ear, the tip of her nose.
She was so delighted with Madame’s. Terry, our waiter with jeweled eye makeup, glittering chest, red beret. They served us salad and the most luscious warm chocolate cake with ice cream, even though the kitchen was closed. Everyone there was really friendly and welcoming. The tiny stage with red lights around it and the little curtained alcove next to it. They sat us right in front of the stage. We were the last customers there, and they still performed for us. MJ had a sour green apple martini and got drunk - I had to help her walk out of the restaurant to the car, amidst much laughter (ours and the staff’s XD). I found out that she loves beets, esp. pickled ones. She was nervous at first, and kept shaking her leg. She was giddy, and told me she was in love, those gorgeous eyes shining at me.
We got lost on the way there. I drove home in the giant pickup truck while wearing my huge boots and sitting too far from the steering wheel.
We kissed a lot in the restaurant. I really liked that. I liked that we were happy lovers, I liked that she was mine. I liked showing the people around us that she was mine. But mostly I liked it because she was so open.
That was Monday night. We went shopping Monday afternoon. We bought several things, including the sweet little pair of jeans she wore that night. MJ absolutely loved them and had to have them as soon as she saw them. They were perfect. Tight, low-riding, definitely showcasing her sweet little ass. She kept looking at herself in the mirror when she was wearing them in the room, arching her back and posing. *grin*
She straightened my hair each day, and her own. We both liked the way a few strands sort of fell into her eyes. I did her makeup every day. I do wish we had had good concealer though.
She slept for a few hours yesterday after I penetrated her and made her come all over her little plaid skirt. She was curled up in the nubbly blue blanket with her head on my arm. I didn’t sleep at all, just held her and petted her, and watched her sleep. I whispered in her ear that she’s beautiful. I wish I could have photographed her like that. Her profile in the dim light was achingly gorgeous. And she purred while she was sleeping. ^_^
I wish I could write more now. I wish I could infuse these pages with every memory, every sound, taste, touch, sight. I wish I could put down every word that was spoken, every inflection, every smile, every sigh. Every emotion stirred by those things.
Yes, I’m smitten, though I know it’s not wise. It’s worth the tears.
