Her Catalyst: Part 03 of 25

In Part 03, Sharlene spends a week at his house and greatly enjoys her ongoing journey of touching. Yet the intensity of her interest in wanting him to touch her seems to overwhelm and shock him and makes her wonder why her interest is so strong. On their way back to the city, they stop at a small restaurant where a young man expresses an interest in her and becomes violent when she says, “No.”

A peek inside:

“You look like Sharlene. You sound like Sharlene. I thought I was waking up. Maybe I just dreamed I was waking up. That’s it, I’m still dreaming.” He reaches out his left hand and begins to caress her face as he says, “Oh, how lovely you are this morning, my love. I really don’t want to wake up and leave you.”

“George, you did wake up. You didn’t leave me. You woke up to be with me.”

“I can’t be awake. The only way someone as beautiful as you could want to be with a boring old man like me is in my dreams. You are here, so therefore, I must be dreaming.”

“Oh, George.” She slides her right hand up his left arm, holds his caressing hand still, starts to kiss his palm, then slowly kisses out towards his fingertips. She gently pushes his thumb into her mouth, turns her head a little, and, when the tip of his thumb is between her molars, she bites down, hard.

“Oww!!” He yanks his hand out of her mouth, sits up away from her, and almost yells, “You bit me! What the hell did you do that for!?!”

“George, is the pain real?”

“Damn right, it’s real!”

“Then I’m real.”

“What!?!”

“If you’re experiencing real pain, then I, who caused the pain, am also real.”

He stares at her with wide eyes for quite awhile before he can get out a single word, “Real?”

“Yes, George, real. I’m not a figment of your imagination nor am I only in your dreams. I’m real and I’m really here. . . .”

. . . what she thinks might provide at least a partial answer to his dilemma of trying to understand why she wants him, Sharlene explains, “I don’t know why or how, but I don’t understand our culture’s emphasis on external appearances. When I look at a person, I see their appearance. I may recognize their body shape as tall or short, fat or skinny, smooth or wrinkly, but the words like ‘beautiful’ or ‘ugly’ in regards to a person’s external appearance don’t mean anything to me.

“Over the years, I’ve learned some of the standards which society applies to those words and have learned to mimic their use, but I personally feel nothing when those words are used. You have a body. I have a body. That’s it. Neither of our bodies is attractive. Neither of our bodies is unattractive. They just are. hey’re the vessels we happen to carry ourselves around in. I’ve slowly come to realize that my external appearance contains many of those elements which our society considers beautiful. I understand that you enjoy looking at me because of those elements. I know it sounds contradictory when I say that I don’t consider my own body as beautiful, yet I feel thrilled when you tell me that I am beautiful. I really don’t understand myself. I also know that according to society standards, your body is considered unattractive. But to me, your body is neither attractive nor unattractive by itself.

“I like your body because it’s a part of you, the kind, generous, giving, and comfortable man who I desire to be with more closely every day. I want to touch your body because I want to touch you and because I know the physical sensation of being touched pleases you. The more you’ve touched me, the more my body enjoys you touching me. I want to share those joyous sensations with you. I know I’m not being very clear, but the bottom line is, I want you, George, for the person you are and that includes your body, regardless of its shape or age. I, as a person, want to touch you, as a person, and the only way I know how to do that, is for my body to touch your body.”

“The shape of my body doesn’t matter to you?”

Sharlene shakes her head as she assures him, “No, it doesn’t.”