So, I just started reading this new piece of erotica, where the primary relationship is girl/girl. And it got me thinking about how different it is to be with a girl than a guy. It’s been years, a lot of years, since I’ve been with a girl, but in reading this, flashbacks of warm soft skin, musky scents, and all night love-making are vivid in my mind.
And it’s funny as I write this that I call it love-making. I never refer to sex as making love. But with a girl, two soft bodies pressed together, that’s what it is, making love.
Anyway, it’s so different from being with a guy. And don’t get me wrong. I love men. I love cock. I love a man’s chest and his hands. The hardness of his body. And I love fucking. But with a woman, it’s different.
It’s curves and soft velvet. It’s kisses and lingering touches. It’s lips and hands and tongues. It’s slow and long and sometimes seemingly everlasting. Orgasms come and go, the ebb and flow of the waves on a shore.
With a woman, there is no beginning and no end. It fades in and it fades out. You can make love for hours and fall asleep with your bodies pressed together, only to wake up and do it all over again. And again.
Mmm… Memories of scents on my fingers, my fingers surrounded in warm, wet heat. My tongue on soft folds, The taste of salt, sweat, and woman dripping from my chin.
With a woman, the give and take is endless. It does not have to end with an orgasm, or even five. It is exhaustion that leads to slumber, curling around each other, not the orgasm’s toll on your body that deems the end of the night.
Truly it is not comparable to being with a man. It is just too different. It is not better than the other, nor does it satisfy better. It is simply different.
I don’t know. this is just my experience, hazy by the fog of memories of long ago…