Raw Emotion

No, she's not always happy. Expecting to be 100% happy 100% of the time is setting up for failure. In a world that is inherently aging, with death as the ultimate outcome, it is stupid to expect 100% happiness for 100% of the time.

So no, she's not always happy. Yet she is always happy. She's not unhappy, nor is she neutral. Heisenberg's uncertainty principle is easier to understand. The fuzziness of states of quantum particles is applied to neural networks carrying erratic signals. They are connected to wet eyes and wet vaginas...somehow...

She was driving 600km to see him. She was frustrated at not getting the message across as efficiently as it could have been. She was excited, yearning to touch him again. To hold him in her arms, to be held by him, to kiss his lip, his face, to trace his dimples and wrinkles...

Phone calls, text messages. She updated him with texts of the country towns she passed. He called her between work meetings, if she had mobile reception. "Your building my anticipation" Grammar typo included.

Pit stop and a call to discuss dinner while she stretched her tired legs. Popped a few headache pills, emptied her tank and filled up the car's tank. "Now is when I need to hear you love me". Now is when it matters the most. She valued the love, affection and praise he sends her regularly, but now, it means a thousand times more than on any other day. "I love you my beutiful lioness" No typo here.

She arrived 15 minutes before Google's prediction. Walked straight into his arms. His warm, strong arms. Lips squished together. Warm and soft lips. Yet so much to say, so much to explain, so much to clarify, so much to understand. Wriggling in his embrace, unwilling to end the physical contact, conflicted, needing verbal communication.

A week apart, his sexual needs were growing. A week alone, effectively in isolation from society, her emotional needs were growing. Which do you satisfy first? His hand crept up through her t-shirt, grabbing her breasts while the other grabbed her arse. She loved it.

Soon, he was naked and making her a cup of hot tea. She couldn't stop talking about how she was feeling and couldn't stop touching his body at the same time. Talking while smothering her face in his bare shoulders, back, and butt cheeks...

And that's how it happened. Cuddling on the couch, her half-dressed, him naked, talking in turn, with intensity, with passion, with emotion. With brutal honesty, exposing vulnerability and insecurity. Defensive, combative and aggressive with the intention to explain, seeking understanding if not agreement. Tears flowing when words hurt, comforted by hugs, kisses and caresses.

Tempted to scream, to scratch. Heartbroken when misunderstood. Yet feeling safe and secure, pulling him onto her, embracing the warmth of skin on skin contact. The very contact that incredibly turns her on...and no doubt him. Yet going back on the principle of perfection to continue with the discussion, to continue to make her point.

"Give me that pussy", he said, grabbing her crotch in desperation. Oh, that turned her on, but fighting her desire, she pushed him away, gripping his fingers as tightly as she could to stop him from tickling her. The day before, he said on the phone, he hoped the makeup sex would be good. She told him not to get ahead of himself!

It was a first experience for her to be able to discuss deeply emotional subjects with such warm, sensual comfort. It was a dream to do this. Usually, it's a serious face-to-face chat. This was much more. He saw her face both light up and at times darken. He saw expressions he wasn't familiar with. He knew this was serious.

He stopped defending. He started to listen. She stopped blaming. She sought clarification. It's not over, but there was understanding. The path is not clear, but the will is clear. And most of all, there is love. The giving type, the unselfish kind. Enough to smile, enough to carry them forward. No one is perfect, but one can choose to improve. And that's what they chose that time.

He carried her to the bedroom. She watched his face intently to absorb every expression as he entered her. Every groan, every eyeroll, every gasp and grimace. Her vaginal muscles squeezed around his cock, while her wetness allowed a smooth motion. He exclaimed his faithful prayer, "God I love you", and she believed that truly God loved him too.