She, and others

I'd watch the door to see her walk in every night. She usually came in on Tuesdays and Fridays. I would wait for her to take a seat, and then change my section with another girl to work in hers.

The bingo hall seemed to come alive to me. I would walk to her and sell her cards. She would always smile and ask how I was and give me nice tips. The first time I saw her, I blushed violently and a co worker asked me what was wrong. I couldn't answer, couldn't talk. My eyes followed her across the hall and all I knew about desire was thrown out the window. I didn't know much at 15, but enough to recognize this as something I would not experience often. 

She wore a fur coat and when she'd take it off, that was the best moment of the evening. She had long brown hair, sleek and shiny. Her body was a sea of unkowns that I wanted to touch. Not a small woman. With wonderfull breasts and an ass my hands were hungry for. Once I was close enough that despite the thick layer of smoke I smelled her perfume. Ysatis.

For weeks I went to sleep fantasizing about her, her body, her skin, her mouth on mine, her hands showing me where to put mine, her voice in my ear, asking me to, telling me to. 

I will always remember her, although I forgot her name a long time ago. And through the years I've lusted after a few women without shame, but without doing anything about it.  But what I think I've learned early on is that falling in lust can be as consuming as falling in love.

That need, desire, hunger, that nothing can quench.  Lust can be as fullfilling but also as damaging as love. The loss, the end, when there is nothing to do but to part. But to feel so real, so alive, so powerful, so whole, even for a moment, can be worth the pain. Yes we are animals, yes, we aspire to higher thinking when in fact all we really want is a good fuck once in a while. And so what?

Some days I think all this is accessorial. Nothing more than instant gratification that will lead to nothing good. But that instant when eyes meet, when fingers spark fires, when everything is senses, is an instant I feel alive. Without effort life comes to me. Once in a while, I enjoy that.