We say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone, all filled with confusion. This is why it’s easier to not think about love. The last year without a man has been simple. Boring, yes, and now that I’ve noticed how boring it is, I’m incredibly restless, but stepping out of my comfort zone is something else. It’s okay to think about, but not do. Maybe I should focus on the other two possibilities to spice up my life and book a vacation or get a new job instead. I can’t really afford to go anywhere and I doubt anyone will want to hire me for anything I actually want to do now, but it’s still easier than a fling.
I slope back into my one bedroom apartment, glancing around at the pure white walls. When I got rid of Wesley and I had to get somewhere smaller and more affordable, I planned to start painting again just for myself, to cover the walls in my colorful pictures but I haven’t ever quite gotten around to it. Inspiration hasn’t struck, I suppose. There hasn’t been any reason for me to paint.
“Well, if you ever change your mind I would happily buy some of your work.”
Noah’s offer to purchase some of my work to cover his gym might have been him just being polite, but i
t leads me to my painting cupboard all the same. A place that hasn’t been opened for far too long. Now, I inhale deep, breathing in the all too familiar smells of canvases, paints, and brushes, and something shifts within me. I don’t think I’ll paint for him, I can’t imagine working out among my art, but I might for myself.
I don’t even really think about what I’m doing, I just pull it all out and I shut my thoughts off. I love painting on instinct, I don’t like to think as I work, I just feel. Painting my emotions did me well in college and that’s what I feel like I have to do right now. There are certain things that I need to get out.
* * *
Exhausted, drained in a really good way, and covered in paint, I collapse onto my bed with a giant smile on my face. I forgot how awesome painting makes me feel, how it’s like therapy to get everything out in a creative way. The exercise is good and I love the endorphins, but for me it will always be art.
This is what I need, I have to start doing this more for myself.
It doesn’t even matter what the end result looks like, I haven’t even looked at the painting, but I feel amazing anyway. It’s like I have grabbed a piece of me back from where Wesley chucked me away.
“Thank you, Noah.” I call out into the air. “That was amazing.”
The hot blood pumps around my body, making me feel all alive. The tingling in my core intensifies and cries out to me for some relief. After the mish mash of emotions that I’ve been through today, my body deserves a reward. I slip my hand down my body, pausing only to cup my breast. My eager fingers reach into my panties and as my eyes fall closed so I can lose myself to the sensations to the only one face in my mind.
I reach forward and brush my hand through his dark, shaggy hair, his warm eyes piercing into me as I touch him. He feels warm and safe, I’m sure he will protect me through anything.
“You are so beautiful, I hope you know that. You should be a model.”
The fact that he pretty much said that only intensifies the racing of my heart. My fingers plunge deep into my soaking warm cavern and I picture him pressing his body up against mine like he did before. I get all the same sensations, I spin into over drive, every hyper sensitive part of myself wanting him.
“I have wanted you ever since I first laid eyes on you.”
“Oh, Noah.” I tilt my head back and slip my finger up towards my clit. I circle it, replacing my finger with his tongue. “Oh, that feels so good.”
His head is now between my legs and he’s tasting me at the same pace my finger is going. He looks like a man with experience, like he knows exactly how to treat a woman’s body, and that’s exactly what I need. Someone who knows what they are doing with me. I don’t need a man to fall in love with me, that didn’t exactly work out before, but I do need someone who can drive me to the peak of desire.
I move faster, his face, his body consuming me. Thoughts of him growing more intense by the moment.
“Oh, fuck.” My free hand grips onto the bed sheets as fantasy Noah climbs up my body and he drives into me, hitting all the right spots as he thrusts hard in and out of me. “Fuck, Noah.”
Damn it, I really wish he was here right now. I could use his body, I need that feeling of pure bliss. I would love to straddle him, to take control and to ride him, feeling every inch of him as we fuck…
“Oh shit!” I explode, tumbling into the gorgeous depths of an orgasm. My body shudders and shakes while the pleasure violently rockets through me. “Fucking hell, Noah, that feels…”
Fuck, it’s been far too long since I’ve had such a powerful orgasm. My finger nearly gets cramp because the hot bliss insists on rolling over me for far too long… not that I want it to end, it feels wonderful.
I crash onto the sheets, panting desperately through the post orgasmic bliss. That was something else! And it was all to do with him, the sexy man from the gym. In the heat of the moment, it doesn’t seem like the worst idea to ask him out on a date after all. With all of this happiness bursting inside of me, I’m sure I could just walk right up to him and demand that he take me out for dinner.
Of course, reality might be very different, but it’s a nice idea.
I grab my cell phone, still consumed by him and I look up his gym just to see his face again. As his picture fills my screen, fluttering butterflies all the way through me, I know I won’t be able to form those words to his face. He’s just so intimidatingly beautiful. I stroke my finger down his cheek and smile to myself. He was awesome as a fantasy, I could keep him in my imagination.
Finally, I force myself back into the other room and I see my painting. I’m surprised to see so much emotion there, so many feelings, so much… passion. Noah is definitely a part of this, I can almost see him in amongst the paintwork. With a cheekiness floating through me, I snap a picture of the painting thinking that even if I don’t have the confidence to ask him out on a date, I might be able to show him this. See what he says.
Inspiration flows through me now, like it’s my blood. I want to pick up my paint brush again and create even more art. I don’t want to stop. I giggle to myself, wondering what I will come up with next. The creativity is back and I can’t see it going anywhere anymore.
I really am purging the past, stepping out of my cocoon and I feel incredible.
7