Always Makin' Love

Always makin' love, to you - oooh
Even when you're far away
No matter what the time of day
I'm always makin' love, to you

Every morning when I wake up next to you
Feel your body close to mine
There's no place I'd rather be
Spending all my time

Doesn't matter what we do
Doesn't matter where we go, whoa
Just as long as I'm with you
We'll be makin' love, oooooh oooh

I think the day will come very soon when this song will flow through my veins.

I'm riding a hormonal high, have been for a couple of days now. I can feel the tension building in me, and will likely be sore by the time I reach my destination tomorrow night. The stiff muscles will be eased as I cross the threshold, and by the time he arrives, I'll be soft and pliant, warm and willing woman-flesh.  

This could be the only time I ever lay eyes on this man. But my heart says no, that's not so. I'm shushing it right now. But that devil heart is much like my cat Ming - it swipes me with a swift cotton paw, and I'm suddenly knee deep in excitement, toes curling with anticipation.

Many people in my past have spoken to me of ephemeral things such as love. I can feel it, I can see it in their words, I can hear it in their voice. There are some very dear people who read this journal who have provided tangible proof of their love in a multitude of ways.

What is it that makes this different? What is it that convinces me he means what he says? I know the answer, but it's a secret that I choose not to reveal. Maybe I fear recrimination. Maybe I fear I'll jinx it. Maybe I fear being viewed as shallow or heartless.

Or maybe I'm just saving up the love I'm accumulating, to share with a priviledged few. Scarlett is already benefitting from this association, emotionally and mentally. The rest is being carefully hoarded, to be released in a torrent upon a solitary soul Friday night and Saturday morning.