She was truly a beauty, and young, and sweet, almost certainly a college student there in Tampa. There we were, her and I, a small room, a massage parlor, 1974. She got my clothes undone, and some of her own. She proceeded to patiently and lovingly give me one of the very few orgasms I've ever had from oral sex; this girl hung in with me, and hung in with me, and hung in with me some more, she gently and carefully worked me over until I just came undone. An amazing experience, very powerful. She rocked my world. This woman rocked my world.
When I finally came back to space/time, after I'd quit writhing, moaning, shaking, spasming, I sat up, found myself with her, and this sweet woman came to me, expectantly, knowing the love she'd just given me -- and you can say it wasn't love but then you just flat don't understand the word -- she came to me to give me a kiss, or share with me a kiss I think is more accurate, given what'd just transpired, given the look on her face, the look in her eyes.
But I -- young, foolish, green, not yet understanding love, or much else -- my uptight stupidity kept me from kissing 'a whore'.
How I wish I had kissed her.
I've thought of her, and of myself, of how bad I felt even as I turned away from her kiss. Our kiss, I guess. It's a sadness, a regret.
I'm writing to square this, in the only way that I can, and I know she's not reading this but maybe another sweet woman who loves on young fools can read this and apply what I'm saying to the idiots she touches today, maybe in these words she'll see that those frozen men who turn from her gifts of love are going to be thinking of her not only later tonight but also years from now, maybe my words will be full circle in some odd way.
Thanks to you for your gift of love, sweet young woman -- I wish I'd have loved you back, I truly do -- and to every loving young woman today and any other day.