I was down to 76p on my Nomi Card call card, and it was my last night iin Charlton. This is last night, by the way.
I called YMK. I’ve been buying phone cards and stretching out the time on them so I can call him every few days.
He’s like become a touchstone. I need that. I need to touch base with him so I can keep my sanity. I am homesick. I miss my life, and I’ve been crying. Not a lot, but you know, enough to know it’s just all the circumstances not just hormones or shit like that.
“Hello?” I asked a little.
“Hola!” He said again.
“Como estas ustedes?” He asked.
“Esta bueno, gracias.” I replied.
“Como estas ustedes?” I asked.
“Esta bueno, baby,” he laughed.
“Tu hable espanol, baby.” I laughed.
“Yeah, I’m picking out words.
The Venezuelan chick next door has been teaching him, and he’s enjoying it. He rattled off something that I was completely kerfuffled by.
“Okay, yo hablo solamente pocito(sp?) espanol. Say that again.”
“I miss licking your pussy,” he laughed.
“Oh God boy, why you so?” I laughed. “I miss it too.”
Another prattle of Spanish.
“Que?”
“I’ll fuck your pussy all night,” he translated.
“Oh God boy why you so? You going to have me up tonight thinking about that. I missing you bad. Bad, bad.”
He just laughed wickedly.
We only had a few minutes, but you know we made them count.
You know, I can see that him coming up to England isn’t going to be this neat little affair. It’s going to be a struggle. Right now, no matter what I think we feel, or he thinks we feel, we both need time to get used to the idea of a relationship, full blown and unequivocal. I’ve been saying it all along, and now that I am here, I know it’s the truth.
I think we’re booth going to take longer than we think to get to that point. This is alternately comfortable, and worrying but you know, that’s just the way it is.
We are trying to keep what we have together, we’re both open, yet aware that we need time.
He is definitely part of my homesickness, I made the choice to leave the Caribbean and in truth, him as well. I did it because I thought I was worth a Herculean effort on my part and any man that really, truly wants me.
I’m not half stepping, I’m demanding as much from myself as from life, and I know we will both deliver.
I miss fucking. I was right too. Last night, in fact almost every night this week, I’ve gone to sleep horny as fuck, my pussy on fire, dying for sustenance.
I am trying too hold it down, but burning in my memory is the second to last week I was in Trini and YMK and I went back to his house. The afternoon he was hanging with me at my work when he got a stand and we couldn’t do nothing. It was the whole, “you’ve spoiled my dick” scene.
I remember the next night, when we did have sex, it was around my third or fourth orgasm and I whispered, perspiring, panting, thirsty for the next one, “I’m coming!”
“Come all over it, baby…” he whispered, bending and kissing me, stealing away my breath and the audible evidence to accompany my spasms around his cock.
So I did. I came as though it was the last time.
When I am here, under the duvet in this place I am about to leave, and I hear him whispering to me again, it’s that phrase that echoes above all others and it’s the purity and openess of our sexual expression that made it so fucking good for me. Makes me want it right now, even though I can’t have it yet.
I just hope we don’t take too long, vacillate too much and lose all chance of climbing up another level of consciousness.
Yes boy, my poonkie is in need, in terrible need, but so is my heart.
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