When the Bruises Ache
This morning as I bent over backwards trying to approximate a back bend on my balance ball my t-shirt rose up and Mirva got a glimpse of the bruises scattered across my belly. Her eyes got big and she blurted out with great concern in her voice what happened to you?!
Oh, those are, uh, hickeys. Papi likes to bite.
She looked at me like I was a battered wife making excuses for my abusive husband. They look like they hurt, she said.
No, they don't hurt, I replied.
And I thought to myself no, sadly, I can't feel them at all now.
For me the bruises are mementos of our time together. They help me remember the feeling of his mouth greedily sucking on my breast, his fingers grabbing and twisting my belly, his teeth clamping down on my inner thigh as they work their way over to my pussy. And when the bruises ache deep down in the muscle, making my flesh feel raw and tender, I am reminded of our passion and in those moments the distance between us doesn't feel quite so far.
Oh, those are, uh, hickeys. Papi likes to bite.
She looked at me like I was a battered wife making excuses for my abusive husband. They look like they hurt, she said.
No, they don't hurt, I replied.
And I thought to myself no, sadly, I can't feel them at all now.
For me the bruises are mementos of our time together. They help me remember the feeling of his mouth greedily sucking on my breast, his fingers grabbing and twisting my belly, his teeth clamping down on my inner thigh as they work their way over to my pussy. And when the bruises ache deep down in the muscle, making my flesh feel raw and tender, I am reminded of our passion and in those moments the distance between us doesn't feel quite so far.
posted by Curious Pussy at Sunday, July 03, 2005
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