In a previous post, I wrote about keeping your TS relationship alive and exciting by tapping into the 5 senses and delivering them to your sexy loved one daily. Sight, sound, smell, taste, and – the most important for many of us – touch. I ask: If you had to choose, which sense could you live without? It would be a hard decision, but some of us don’t have the choice. Either you’re born without or your situation prevents you from being able to experience a sense.
I’ve been involved in a 5 year TS relationship, and it has absolutely been the most sexy, heart-melting, and loving relationship I have ever been in. However, we are unfortunately without touch and sight. Why? We live 600 miles away from one another…
Your voice is so intriguing, so smooth. And you’re so adorable: you can’t stand the sound of your own voice, nor comprehend how intoxicating it is now matter how intense my conviction is. Your unique trans voice has an incredible timbre that holds onto each word, as it slips from your mouth, it grasps onto another. Combine that with the predictably unpredictable cadence, and you have me hanging…
And you are rarely bereft with words. You tell a story as banal as going to the store to buy a can of soda. You somehow tell it with such verve, reliving the situation, as I hold on to your string of sparse words like it’s a cliffhanger. After these 5 years, I still find you undeniably engaging.
I’ve been looking forward to hearing from you these past few days. I’ve been yearning for you, as we haven’t spoken for days. Our conversations always lasting for hours. We cook together. We shop together. We taste wine together. Yet it’s all through the phone.
We live so far away but talk as if we were living together. We never get bored. We never run out of things to say. We never experience uncomfortable moments that make us want to flee for lack of connection.
I dream of kissing you, wrapping my arms around you, ravaging you for an insubordinate number of hours.
I need to hold you face down. Hold your hands over your head as your hair leaves an opening for me to smother my face into the nape of your supple neck.
I need you to touch me. I need the sensation of your fingers as they wrap behind you, grabbing onto my ass. And that makes me jump. Every time.
I literally shudder at the thought of you touching me.
Nothing feels quite like this.
Nothing feels quite like missing you.
Maybe next week we’ll see each other…