There was never a question with him; he was a dangerous man for her and she knew he would never ask, never come on to her, never say anything;
yet, she also knew that if he did, she would be his; his eyes alone already posessed her;
she knew that even as his hands moved while talkilng, those hands possessed her moving along her body from across the room
without ever touching; he in just standing there across the room
had her without even looking at her; had her without even touching her.
She could feel it; there was psyhic love-making across that room-, even in church; she felt herself giving herself without touching.
Crazy? Yes, but she knew it was real because she felt it in her body.
It first happened with her crushes as a teen, the posters on the wall,
the tv images, the consumation without the consumation; all else couldn't compare; all life, realilty itself, was not real in the face of this.
It was not even him so much as it was her desire to give,
to give all of her self. Her breasts ached; her desire spilled out such that she thought others could see it, hear it, sense it.
And desire it was-a mix of desires; to feel taken, a desire not to be taken to resist against a strong man; a strong desire to feel desire, to feel a man wanting her, to take a man she desired and feel him respond--all these.
But then she thought he was simply the means, the way she stayed in contact with her deepest self, her way of holding to her self, to herself, giving to herself a life-line to feelings, of stayinlg in touch with her body; something she would never act upon, never risk acting upon; that which could embarass her, destroy her life, her single-hood, destroy the sanctuary that lived inside, not seen by anyone.
She would never act upon any of this, she thought, until he walked over to her at the church social and said "Hi."
That was how it began.
That set off longing in her, deep longing and deep need.
His simple "Hi," shook her entire body.
"Hello Father.", she stammered out.
To be continued.
After saying that she immediately felt silly. She had known he was not yet a priest and was still six months away from ordination. But she had gotten flustered and surprised at his approach, and, had forgotten.
That was part of what made the whole situation difficult for her; because part of her wanted to see him as a full-blown priest already and that part of her was wrestling, no, was feeling compelled to tell him about her feelings for him, to get it out in the open and trust him and the Lord that it would all work out.
But that another part of her did not want to tell, did not want to confess to him or anyone. That part of her wanted to hold those precious feelings to herself, her secret trove in that special place which if never revealed would remain hers forever.
It was, too, that she liked telling no one but, also, she suspected that she liked his very unavailability, his unattainability, That way her feelings remain perfect, pristine and inside her, reassuring her that in doing so she was being a good, no, a better person than if she let them have full reign in her heart.
To complicate things all the more yet another part of her felt, sensed, believed, that he too had a sense of her in the same way and might have as strong a feeling as she did.
If he did he was even more dangerous if he let those feelings out because if he did, she would not be able to hide her own, not be able to resist, that all of it would come spilling out, visible for all to see and she would be terribly embarrassed, and also, if others saw they would see and later claim, if he succumbed as she wanted him to do, that she was the cause of him not following through on his ordination--if he fell in love with her as she was with him.
So his saying "Hi" was a tremendous moment of truth and without saying another word other than "Hi" she knew, she knew with a shock that he felt exactly as she did.
As much of a temptation as he was to her, she was an equal temptation to him.
He said his "Hi" and she could see that flood of recognition in him as well and he suddenly turned from her, looking around the room as if some force had slammed into him and then slowly turning back to her realizing that the force had come from her and himself.
He shook his head, opened his eyes wide and she blushed red and so did he.
Body Love: Chapter Three
And then he moved away after having given her a backward glance- his eyes having in them a look that was at once bewildered, sad, and also filled with an expression of longing that mirrored her own, that told her he was indeed feeling the same as she.
Just as he was dangerous for her, she too, it seemed, was dangerous for him; she had seen it in his face, in his hesitant walk away, a walking away that part of his body did not seem to want to do.
He settled into a small meet-and-greet group and she could see him talking, but unable to resist giving her glances which had a wondering aspect, as if to wonder if that electricity between them had really happened; and she was sure that he saw in her face confirmation that it had really happened and neither knew at that point what to do, if anything about it.
But there was in her as well, a swelling sense of happiness because, despite her not wanting to reveal her feelings, it was exhilarating to know that he seemed to feel the same way as well.
Who does not want to know that the other feels the same way, with the same intensity in matters of love?
Love; she shouldn’t use that word, It was wrong to use that word. Love, she thought to her self, was a silly school girl word.
She was no silly school girl mistaking a crush for love, falling in love from mere glances, or smiles from those admired or who gave the slightest attention to her.
She was not that girl; she was a fully grown woman, with desires yes, but definitely not a school girl, at least not any more.
”Hey where are you?” the voice said.
It was Roger.
”You look to be a million miles away.”
She made her eyes move away from Jacob because she didn’t want Roger to see whom she was looking at, didn’t want him to guess what she was feeling or to whom those feelings were directed. She was sure everyone could see if they paused a moment to look.
Roger was the pompous banker’s son who all the girls chased in high school and he was her one mistake when she let him kiss her parked by the lake that August in his father’s Cadillac.
She had left high school went to college and since had come back to help her mom after Dad died.
Roger immediately came on to her, convinced she wanted him, found him irresistible and was determined to overcome her resistance to his charms.
Roger also knew that his father’s bank held the mortgage to the farm and could call the loan at any time.
He had a plan about her, Sara thought, thinking he could dally with her, get in her pants, wife or no wife because if she didn’t “come across” he had threatened, he would be able to talk his father into foreclosing and that would be a "pity."
She knew he would carry that threat out. He had done that many times to others in that town.
She gave him an iceberg look and turned away.
“Oh,” she could hear him say, “remember Sara, sooner or later I always get what I go after.”
It was true . Roger had gone after many of the ladies in the room, married and unmarried and had, according to rumor, had some of them.
But, he would never have her, she promised herself.
She had a plan.
Chapter Four Body Love
She stared at Roger’s retreating back and was jolted by the realization that Jacob was looking at her inquisitively. She was sure he was wondering what had transpired between her and Roger.
”God,” she thought “I hope he doesn’t get the wrong idea.”
But the look in his face told her that he did think something had gone on in that short space of time between her and Roger. He turned away from gazing at her with what she was sure was a hurt look on his face, a look she saw that he, not only had felt something had gone on, but was hurt, hurt by what he imagined had gone on between her and Roger.
He undoubtedly had heard the story of the kiss in the Cadillac, Roger had told everyone about that since she had arrived back and she was sure Jacob had heard about it, probably from Roger himself.
Roger was evil enough to tell Jacob so as to drive a wedge between them.
“Wait,” she thought to herself “between them?”
Maybe she was getting ahead of her self. There was no real relationship between her and Jacob yet, yet she was furious at the thought that Roger was trying to sabotage things for his own evil reasons.
She was headed toward Jacob, not to talk to him, but to give him a sign that she was still with him, to somehow communicate to him with her body language that there was nothing between her and Roger. Somehow she wanted that to get communicated to him in how she walked or looked at him.
Before she got two steps she felt an arm on her arm and her mother’s voice saying:
“You certainly get the attention here from the men today.” her mother was saying.
“These men look you up and down like you was cotton candy.”
Mother, a beauty in her time, a cheer leader too, had once dated Roger’s dad; in fact Roger’s dad had pursued her as the town beauty and the home coming queen two years in a row.
Rumor had it that the two might have even gotten married.
But it didn’t happen because mother was from the wrong side of town. But that didn’t stop Sara thought, Roger’s dad from still having a thing for her, and perhaps Sara wondered if the same was true for mother about him.
She hadn’t been home in years and didn’t know much about all of that. In any event mother, Sara guessed, felt that Roger’s dad still had fond memories of her and him in the old days.
Victoria, her mother’s name, whispered to her:
“Steady, let’s us just walk toward the door, casual like and go have our selves and nice little mother-daughter talk. Shall we?”
Sara glanced at her, realizing that this idea ,no matter how her mother meant it, nonetheless, was a good idea.