My Dear Sir,
Do you remember how often my hands would stray to your hair? I couldn’t help myself. I loved running my fingers through it. I was always waiting for you to tell me that I did it too much; you never did though. You never complained once.
Many times while you were playing the piano for me, I would get up and stand behind you at the bench. I would massage your shoulders and neck. My fingers played with your hair. I rubbed your ears. I loved touching you. I was constantly doing it. You’d lean your head back against my shoulder and close your eyes while playing. That’s when I’d kiss your forehead and face.
My hand would wander to the back of your neck while in the car as well. It was very calming to me to touch you while driving during a long, barren stretch of road. As you stated in “Driving” your hand was always on my knee. I think we found comfort in touching each other.
There were also the few times my hand found its way to your hair during dinner if we were sitting next to each other as opposed to across the table. You’d always take my hand in yours after a while and start to kiss it while staring into my eyes. Good grief Mr. Sir you would make me melt. I can still feel your lips on my fingertips.
It’s a wonder we ever left our rooms, but I suppose we needed to eat once in a while. Oh, and get some fresh air. I wasn’t worried about the exercise though; we got plenty of that.
Lovingly and touchingly yours always,
My Tactile Darling
I do remember how much you touched me. It was a thrill every time. From that first hug at the airport, to holding your hand in the cab on the way home to our first kiss in my home later that evening. Oh how we touched.
When I played the piano? Well I am not sure how I restrained myself and if truth be told on more than one occasion I clearly did not. Your hand in my hair was the most devilish distraction. How could I hope to play?
My hand on your leg whilst driving? I could not forget that. I remember the first time I did it you exclaimed that you may not be able to concentrate. I didn’t move it an inch. It remained firmly in place for our entire time together. Your hand running through my hair as we drove; well I remember that as well. Its a wonder we even made it out my driveway.
I think what I loved best though about touching you in public (I trust you note the distinction I have made here) was holding your hand and staring into your eyes. I was like a man drowning in a sea of ecstasy.
I long to touch you again; to hold you, smell you, taste you and love you.
I can still feel you now.
You Will Always Be My Darling
From Sir With Love
©2013 Darling and Sir
©2013 Darling and Sir
I am ‘touched’ by the post. Pardon the pun. Actually there is none.
Now, the above turned into a poem!
I am feeling very anxious now, yet am reading and responding to this post.
There seems to be a little disconnect going on here. What is there for you to be anxious about? Unless of course you are referring to your attempt at poetry in which case anxiety is perfectly understandable (just joking my friend).
Happy New Year
PS – Darling also sends her best for 2014.
Apologies for the ambiguity. I was responding to the post just before I took a flight to see my mom who was in the hospital unwell. She is ok now.
Thanks to you and Ms. darling for the wishes.
I am pleased to hear your mother is okay BP. In can be an anxious time indeed when your parents get ill.
It’s nice to have you back and commenting.