Often, my vocabulary will limit itself to one word or to one phrase. One word, at this particular point last night: "Yours". Streaming over and over, with him inside me: "Yours, yours, yours..." holding him as he moved, "yours, yours, yours..."
And I burst into tears.
Which I have never EVER done during sex. But everything was stripped away, everything but love and need and, apparently, the pain of too long a separation. "Yours," I cried, and, brokenly, "I MISSED you!"
He held me, reassured me that it was okay, that everything was okay, that he loved me, that he wouldn't be gone that long again. Gods, it's never hurt like that before. Adam and I never had that long a separation, once we knew we loved each other. And no one else felt quite like Tom feels. Too long. My heart hurt. And the dam burst, and I bawled, and he held me, and he told me it was okay.
"Yours," and "I missed you," over and over.
Two things later, when I'd gotten ahold of myself:
"I can never lie to you," I said. "My body won't let me." 'Struth - things come out that I wasn't expecting, like the "pretty girls" thing I was expounding on last week or so. Like this. I have no walls with him. And, well, especially not during sex, when I'm as open as humanly possible in every way...
And this one caused me to laugh. "I have seen girls," I said, "who, when they cry, have just the silent lipquiver and the tears sliding down their cheeks. Me... not so much."
Him: "You have the red-in-the-face bawling."
Me: "Yeah. I do not cry pretty!"
It's okay, he says.
Also? He can call me baby and it sounds sweet and gentle, not cheesy.
I missed him so much.