Three Little Words free porn video

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‘Why can’t you just say it? Why must it be so hard for you? Can’t you just say it, for once? Why is everything so difficult with you?’

I looked into his eyes and saw the sadness and disappointment in them. A flash of white-hot humiliation went through me. I froze and dropped my eyes. It had always been hard for me to put my feelings into words. Maybe it was because I was shy, maybe it was because the crude comments of a past boyfriend still haunted me, or maybe I just didn’t know how to. Maybe I made too big a deal out of it and made it too difficult for myself. That was probably it. It still didn’t make things any easier, though.

Three little words and I couldn’t say them. I thought them often. I said them in my mind when I looked at him sleeping next to me, when he cooked in our little kitchen, when he laughed. I thought of the words every single day but they refused to roll from my tongue. I tried to show him every day how I felt. I tried to convey it in every touch, in every word (all but those three he needed to hear) and in every thing I did.

‘I… I…’ I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

He sighed and I heard the door close. He had left. I felt my eyes fill with the tears I had refused to let him see.

He left for a business trip and would be gone for a week, I missed him already. It killed me to have disappointed him when he was going away. The look in his eyes when I started to stutter was all I could remember. Hurt and disappointment filled his eyes and then he was gone.

I was left behind with my thoughts. On the first day I thought only about how difficult it was for me to say it aloud, how scared I was of it. I paced around the empty flat the whole day, made cups of tea to calm me down and then forgot them lying around with only a few sips drunk. I slept little that night.

On the second morning I wished I could call him and ask him to come back so we could talk. I could make him understand, I was sure of it. I missed him. I wanted to touch him and I wanted him near me so I could smell his after shave and hear one of his stupid stories about Italy.

The next day found me as a mess. My heart started to ache around noon that day, I was sure it was because I missed him so. The problem with three words seemed stupid now, insignificant and small. I became angry at myself for being so scared of every little thing in this world, for being a wimp, for only having the courage to touch him when he wanted to hear my words too. God, it was so frustrating to see how stupid I have been. Stupid, stupid little hang ups that just make me unhappy, that make us unhappy.

‘Damn.’ I said aloud. ‘Damn. Damn. Damn!’

The remainder of the week went in the same feelings. For the life of me I could not understand why it had been so difficult for me to speak my mind. Such a little thing as that seemed like the biggest hurdle. I felt like I didn’t know the person I was last week, timid over such an issue. Having such a shift happen in the way I thought didn’t change the fact that I kept walking around the flat with half full luke warm cups of tea. That is when I could find a cup anywhere.

He came back after that week. I was relieved to see him standing in the doorway, It was the longest week of my life. I hadn’t slept well at all and I had missed him like crazy. A separation like this had made my eyes open. In the back of my mind I had been terrified that he might not have come home when at the same time I knew he wouldn’t leave me like this.

‘I love you,’ I said looking at him still standing by the door. It was the only way I could welcome him back. It felt like it was the way things had always been.

‘I know. Was that so hard to tell me? I know it and I feel it but I still wanted to hear it from you. I’m glad you told me, hun.’

I could have held him for hours. It really was that easy.

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The chatter died down as Professor MacNeal strode through the open door and thirty-two pairs of eyes regarded him. Back ramrod-straight from military service from eighteen to twenty-four, not a silvering hair out of place, dressed in his black wingtips, traditional three-piece charcoal grey suit, accented with a red and black pocket square and a curiously old-fashioned emerald green bow tie, Professor MacNeal, or ‘Sir’ as he was known to the group of third-year students seated in the classroom,...

Five Little Words

I didn’t know her and she didn’t know me. But yet, we shared more about ourselves with each other than with anyone else. She had sent me her picture and I in turn had sent her mine as well. Her name was Sarah and she was beautiful. Brunette hair, sparkling hazel eyes, a face that was perfection in every sense of the word, and hands that I knew if I could only hold for just one moment, I would have touched an angel. I had never met a person quite like her. Beauty not only as a physical aspect,...

Threes Definitely Not A Crowd

It was a Friday night and we’d arranged to meet friends at the local pub for a few hard earned drinks after work. When we arrived we were surprised to see how busy it was. The landlord had organised another of his Open mike nights and the ‘stars’ of the local area had arrived to show their skill. The night didn’t get off to a great start when the friends we’d arranged to meet cancelled on us. The talent on display at the mike wasn’t exactly music to our ears either. I toyed with the idea of...

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