What I Wish I’d Said

Insomnolent beside her, transfixed by her beauty, bewildered by the generosity of Fate that I should lie here by her side, and in her bed, I gently disengage. When the night began, and love had run its course, she had lain in my embrace, my arms about her body, one leg thrown over her hip, her back pressed into me as I encompassed her. And now I rise in silence.

I troubled not to dress, but stealing from the room, crept through the darkness, down the hall, and ‘round the corner into the parlor, where I sat upon the low, antique couch. Three storeys up, no curtains drawn, a flickering streetlight across the way competing with a waxing moon to relieve the midnight gloom through the windows of the flat.

Countless tiny sounds accentuate the silence of the night, The ticking of the clock upon the wall. The periodic humming and sighing of the fridge. The isolated sounds of traffic, blocks away. The distant intermittent rushing of the subway, somewhere underground. The groaning of the building as it settled. The quiet creaking of the sofa underneath me when I leaned back as I sat.

How could I have been so blessed? How does my soul deserve such rest? Why is the universe so kind to someone such as I? I cannot help but smile as I think of that rare and radiant woman sleeping on the other side of the wall behind me. And greedy to remember all, I open up to all the sounds and smells and sights I can absorb in this apartment sanctuary, and revel in a sensuality I never knew I had.

Then, peeping at me from ‘round the corner, a beloved friendly face, partially concealed yet desirous of discovery. And when she sees me notice her, she rounds the corner from the hallway, entering the room.

She walks with artless grace, all limbs and swan-like neck. Flared hips swaying smoothly with her gait, her bosoms bobbing gently with the rocking of her shoulders. Two score winters could not diminish the beauty she possessed, nor could any half her age approach her in Aphrodite’s glory.

She stands before me, as nude as I myself, eyes half closed with unfinished slumber, a little smile upon her lips,

“What’s wrong?” she whispers with concern. “I woke and you were gone.”

I reach my hands up to her, and she likewise reaches out for me. I take her hands in mine and draw her down, and she settles into my lap, folding herself so sweetly against me. I put my arms around her, and she her arms ‘round me. I cradle her in my embrace and gaze into her topaz eyes.

“What are you thinking…?” she asks, still smiling, a sparkle in her eye.

I hold her snugly in close embrace, and I kiss her, and I say…

“I love you.”

Only that. Three little words. So simple, and so small. But, Oh! That I could fill those words with all the fullness of my heart! What a world of joy and ardor, of friendship and of warmth, of passion and excitement, of love and lust and mirth! Such a brief pronouncement to encompass all that fills my soul. Had I Apollo’s golden lyre, or Sappho’s silver tongue, or the Muses’ skill at dance and song, what more could I say?

Her eyes of rich tokaji hold me mesmerized, her lustrous chestnut bob frames a smile that illuminates my soul. The feeling of her skin on mine at once arouses and relaxes, and I hold her close, as without volition, my hands begin to roam; her peach-like ass, her breasts like heavy pears, I idly stroke her flanks, and kiss her tits, and brush her silken quim. She squirms and snuggles even closer, pressed up tight against me, her face scant inches from my own. –Oh, what I want to say!

You’re so beautiful and resplendent. I love to look at your body, and I love to watch you move, and I am captivated by your figure and your face. I love the sound of your voice, when you whisper low to me, when you laugh with joy, when you call my name. In casual conversation, or in disagreement and debate. I love the things you say to me, each critique and affirmation, always kind, and always loving; you make me feel beloved and admired.

I love it when you touch me, for you touch me without causing pain. You have never tried to hurt me, though I’ve been vulnerable to you. I love the way you speak to me; you make me feel valued. I am profoundly grateful that you deem me worthy of your company. I love your playfulness and tenderness, and how you unreservedly share your body with me, unashamed that I should see you in your glory.

I love it when we kiss, when your mouth seeks mine, and we devour each other, sweetly. I love it when our tongues caress, and I taste you as our lips press fast together.

I love the feeling of your skin beneath my fingers, lips, and tongue. I love the feeling of your body, pressed up tightly against mine. I love the feeling of your flesh as I stroke your limbs, and kiss your throat, nuzzling your breasts, your nipples stiffening to meet my lips.

I love the rich smell of your pussy, and even more than that, its taste. I love the spicy, musky richness of your cunt, and how your petals feel against my lips, labia to labia. And I love the taste and feel as my tongue explores your folds, and how your hairs tickle my nose. And when you reach your peak, I love the flavor of your cum, and I love the richness of your fluids as I lick you clean.

And I love when we are fucking, and I feel you draw me deep inside, and I feel your limbs about me in that rhythmic dance you taught me. And I feel so safe within you, and I’m cradled in your arms. Nothing in the world can ever touch me, nor cause me fright, when I’m with you. And I love to sleep beside you, to hear your breathing in the night, and feel your heart beat with my own.

You treat me with the kindness that I’ve sought for all my life. I love your sweet nature, admire your wisdom, and treasure that innocence you carry in your soul. You’ve been my friend, you’ve been my lover, you’ve been my confidant and counsel.

How could God ever have seen fit to bless me with you? What eternal wisdom moved his hand? What could I have ever done to possibly deserve you? What loving kindness, or merciful beneficence allowed this confluence of hearts?

Oh, how my life in enriched because of you! How now my soul is knit to yours! For so many years, I’ve had to walk companionless. But now, I know I need not be alone. I cannot imagine a future without you. A piece of me will henceforth always dwell within you, and your soul will forever echo within mine.

But what feeble sentiment tumbles from my lips?

“I love you.”

Can she hear within those words all that I desired to confess? Could everything that filled my heart be in those words compressed? What I wish I’d said. What I should have said.

“I love you.”

Nothing more.

And she smiled at me more broadly, leaned forward then, and kissed me. And then, unfolding herself from out my lap, stood, and reached a hand down to me.

“Come on,” she whispers. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Even in the darkness, I can see the moon reflected in her shining amber eyes.

“We’ll have plenty of kisses tonight,” she sighs as I rise and follow her, our hands still clasped together, back to bed, where we’d lay till dawn, limbs entwined, languidly kissing, pressed together beneath the bedclothes, sheltering in one another.

About Michael Butchin

I was born, according to the official records, in the Year of the Ram, under the Element of Fire, when Johnson ruled the land with a heavy heart; in the Cradle of Liberty, to a family of bohemians. I studied Chinese language and literature at Rutgers University, New Brunswick. I spent some years in Taiwan teaching kindergarten during the day, and ESOL during the evenings. I currently work as a high school ESOL teacher, and am an unlikely martial artist. I have spent much of my life amongst actors, singers, movie stars, beautiful cultists, Taoist immortals, renegade monks, and at least one martial arts tzaddik. I currently reside in Beijing's Dongcheng district
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