Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

A poem by another of Fen’s and my favourite French poets begins with a couple of lines about languorous ecstasy and amorous fatigue (the whole poem, C’est l’extase langoureuse, has been beautifully set by Gabriel Fauré). “Amorous fatigue” – yes, that was Gemma and me in spades by the time we had got back to her place and showered and changed. Neither of us felt like cooking, so Gemma phoned out for pizzas, and we sat at her kitchen table eating them with our fingers and drinking beer straight from the bottle. And in the middle of that, from out of the blue, the ghastliness of the past few days of destruction, death and despair, the strain of having had to be strong for others in the midst of it all, the knowledge that it wasn’t a dream that I’d wake up from to find that everything was all right, and the emotional impact of Fenella’s intrusion into my life in the middle of all that, burst on me like a tsunami. Dimly aware of Gemma looking at me with a concerned expression on her face, I pushed my food and drink to one side, pillowed my head on the table and started to shake and sob uncontrollably. She let me be for a Arnavutköy escort bayan few moments; then I felt an arm round my shoulders and a hand stroking my hair. She raised me up, walked me over to the big settee in the living room, and arranged us so that she was sitting at one end and I was lying with my upper body cradled in her arms, my head resting in the hollow of her shoulder. I was still sobbing and shaking, she was cuddling and babying me, caressing and kissing my hair and my face, stroking my arm and shoulder, taking care not to let her hands go anywhere where her touch might arouse me sexually. How well this woman knew me! She had known that morning that what I needed most was sexual release to the point of exhaustion; now she knew that it was a different kind of release that I needed. “I’ve been watching you, baby,” she murmured into my hair. “I haven’t asked. But tell me.” And I just let it spill out: the horror of knowing that more than a hundred people had died in the collapse of a single building; of my own paralyzed terror as I sat at my desk in my swaying Escort Avcılar office, unable even to scream, let alone move to get under my desk as we had been trained to do, gripping my computer to stop it sliding towards the edge of the desk as fragments of ceiling fell on and around me and objects flew off shelves – some hitting me; of hearing again and again the same stories of terror and despair from the people streaming into the shelter where I had been assigned to work; of driving home through the darkened streets of a city seemingly under military occupation, with soldiers and armoured vehicles positioned at roadblocks; of familiar streetscapes turned into something reminiscent of photographs I had seen of shattered post-war Berlin… Eventually I ran out of words and lay in Gemma’s arms, my breath coming in shuddering gulps. She dabbed my eyes, planting light, soothing kisses on my face and my hair. “Sorry,” I muttered. “No, sweetheart. You needed that. I don’t know how I’d handle what you’ve been through, or do what you’ve been doing.” “But you’re so strong.” “Maybe. But Bağcılar escort I know I must have my breaking point too. Everyone does. I just haven’t reached mine yet. If I’m lucky, perhaps I never will. How are you feeling now?” “Better,” I said truthfully. “Stronger. I’d been dreading going back, but now I feel I’ll be able to face it.” We stayed like that for a while, she cradling me and gently stroking and kissing me, I turning my face to kiss her in return. Presently she gave my shoulders a squeeze, then said briskly: “Now, here’s my plan for the evening. We’ll finish our beer, maybe have another drink or two, and I’ll re-heat the food and we’ll finish eating – it’s too nice to waste. Then I’ll run you a nice hot bubble-bath, and I’ll bath you – just the way I sometimes did for your mum when you were very little.” She chuckled, and I knew I was blushing, as I always did when she reminded me of that. “Then,” she went on, “I’ll put you to bed and you can sleep – you look exhausted, and I think I might have rather added to that exhaustion, eh darling? I’ve got some work to do, but I’ll join you later. How does that sound?” And that was what we did. As she tucked me up, Gemma knelt down by the bed and kissed me long and tenderly full on the mouth, stroking my face and my hair. “If you wake up in the night, “ she murmured, “wake me too if you want me.” I remained asleep when she came to bed; but I certainly did wake her.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32