Thursday, August 15, 2013

Yours in the moment

Dear Fleeting Encounters,

I met you at cafés, shopping plazas, taverns, all-night diners, sushi bars, and bus depots. We chatted before heading to my place or yours for sex. We slept together once, or had marathon sessions over several days, or once in a while when some boring conference or meeting brought you to my town. 

You captivated me with your beauty, intelligence, and passion. You took your time in bed, caressing my entire body, kissed me in places that sent shivers down my spine…the back of my neck, the dimples above my ass, along my inner thigh. You fucked me hard and fast, your fingers tangled in my hair as you pulled me into you, my lips sore and bruised afterward from the violence of your passion.  

I think about the nature of life, how brief it is, how nothing is permanent. How numb day to day life can  make us. My philosophy is to celebrate the time we have alive and never to let myself be numb, to find lovers of kindred intensity. Christ, life can be so dull at times. Whatever we can do to keep ourselves awake and aware of how precious it is, to not waste it, to make every moment count…that's what's important to me.

Thank you, dear lovers, passionate kindreds.  I am writing this letter to convey my gratitude because lovers like you are rare in my experience. I've fucked a lot of men over the years and so many of them were bland, passionless bores, but you stood out because you weren't, because you were living your life on your own terms and passionately embracing it. I hope you are still doing so.

To Paul, the brilliant blue-eyed dominant who introduced me to the world of BDSM. I enjoyed those Wednesday afternoon explorations with scarves, blindfolds and ropes and the occasional forays to swingers' clubs. I loved kneeling for your friend, R while you both commented on what an excellent cock sucker I was. It was so arousing to be used and talked about as if I wasn't there. I suppose there are many who wouldn't understand this need in me, but you did. You were the first to truly understand.

To Peter, the business man who was working on his Executive MBA and found himself briefly in Ottawa…I enjoyed our instant chemistry and the joy of being swept off my feet. Your apology for the small tattoo of the sun on your inner thigh was endearing. You were just starting to explore the possibilities of what life could offer outside your humdrum cubicle existence. I hope your explorations continued.

To David, the wild outdoorsman from Quebec, who stroked my long hair after our love making and told me about the properties of wintergreen and other plants growing near your cabin. You said you ran a business that provided solar panel installation and I imagine you afterward, climbing toward the sun.

To C., the roofer from Jackson's Point, what fun we had when you visited. You were a little guy but so muscular and wiry. So much energy.  I didn't even have a proper bed at that point, just a futon, where you fucked me hard and then we both slept deeply. This was the first time away from your work you'd ever taken and you were exhausted. Between fucking and walking around the city where you pointed out all the different roof styles, we slept for hours beside one another. I felt good that I was able to give you rest as well as passion.

To M., the psychologist and expert cunnilinguist who bought me lilies, their scent permeating my apartment long after our encounters had ended.

To K, the medical equipment consultant, who brought me back a book of poetry from England after that first time in my bed. Your posh English accent turned me on. We had such great conversations about writing. You were eloquent, articulate and ever so good with your hands. That thing you did with your thumb up my ass and your fingers playing inside my cunt while I was on my stomach was divine. I came hard on your fingers, all over the sheets.

To the poets, there have been so many of you--young dark haired melancholy rebels in your ripped jeans--in town to do a reading or newly arrived from small towns or larger cities or locals seeking to distract yourselves from the crashing loneliness we all feel. We shared conversation, alcohol--oh yes, there was plenty of alcohol--and wild sex beneath trees or in my bed. Afterward  we talked of Berryman's Dream Songs and Berrigan's Sonnets, of Blake and Dante, Lorca, Plath, Sexton, Hunter S. Thompson, Anaïs Nin, Warren Zevon, Leonard Cohen or shamelessly gossiped about our fellow contemporary poets. I hope you are still living your life with gusto. Don't settle, don't compromise.

Life is short. Carpe diem. Or as Edith Piaff sang "Non, je ne regrette rien."

yours in the moment,


Amanda

15 comments:

  1. Ahhh, Amanda-
    Wish I met you back in the day, but we'll take all the wisdom and verve we can get from you now. Happily.

    Enjoy, girl-

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    1. thanks, Daddy X. could be fodder for a story. make me a character ;)

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  2. I've told all of my kids not to marry as virgins. There are so may ways to enjoy your own sexuality, and until you know what you want and how often, it's a crime to marry someone who might not know what he/she wants. Once God and family have been invited to witness your joining, it makes lawyers a whole lotta money if/when you both realize that you aren't happy because you aren't sexually compatible.

    Odd advice from a mom, but then my kids know what I was like when I was younger and unmarried. Like you, I enjoyed sampling. For men it's difficult to find women who are willing, but it means they remember us fondly for the rest of their lives. For women, it's ridiculously easy. Yet we also think of the memorable ones with secret joy. Like you, my youth wasn't wasted on me...I enjoyed every minute!

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    1. sounds like you're a great mom, Fiona. this is actually not from my youth but from my recent past. i was actually with the same man from 18-26. i didn't bloom sexually until my mid 30s & then I was out the door & on my own until i met my current & forever husband with whom i'm in a poly relationship.

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    2. damn. 18-36. numbers is tuff. ;)

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  3. How refreshing, Fiona. I was a member of a rebellious group during the 60's and 70's-- all sex, drugs and rock & roll, but practically every one of our friends went 'straight ' after having children, trying to raise them with the same repressed values as we were. What you've done is a rare example of common sense.

    Of course, it's easy for me to simplify things 'cause Momma X and I never had kids.

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  4. Amanda-
    And a yummy character she would be. Damn- now y' got me thinkin'. Jeez- Don't think I've ever tried a character from real life. Gettin' a hard on!

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  5. Amanda, this post could easily be turned into a story. And if all these passionate visitors were real, I hope none of them spoiled your mutual memories by making sarcastic remarks about your availability. (Many folks resort to slut-shaming, even in current times, which would explain why it can be dificult for men to find women who are willing.)

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    1. i have written composite characters based on various people, including lovers. they were all real & i haven't been subject to nasty remarks about my slutty nature. i always refer to myself as a slut & am proud & content to be one.

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  6. Amanda, I really identify with this. I wish I could capture those moments with as much grace and passion as you have.

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    1. thanks, Lisabet. very kind of you to say. & i'm glad to hear you say you identify with it. :)

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  7. Sorry I didn't get to post about my exes - just as well maybe 'cause I really would sound like a damned slut!

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    1. too bad. this slut would have liked the company ;)

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