Hugs Two

I said that I'd continue with a recollection of hugs, and I apologize that it's been so long since the last installment. I've been writing...elsewhere.

The next pair have a certain similarity, because each served to open my eyes to a different reality. In each case, a woman both shared her femininity with me...and enjoyed something of me. Each in a subtly different manner, but each equally remarkable.

Separated by almost twenty years.

Linda comes first. She was slender and graceful, pretty verging on beautiful, with a sleek, lithe figure. Alive and vivacious, I only ever dreamed of a woman like her.

I'll never forget my surprise one day when she stepped into my arms.

At the time, it was the most profoundly honest hug of my life. It's still at the top.

For Linda simply stepped into my arms, and made herself at home.

She melded with me, fit with me, became a part of me.

I would almost say that she snuggled into me, but that would be saying it all wrong, considering the circumstances.

But once in her life, she opened herself completely to me. Opened herself and gave her femininity to me, her warmth and softness.

While she mingled with...me.

Drank something of my own warmth.

Blending.

She took my breath away.

**

Joyce would as well.

I'll admit that I had long found Joyce attractive, on a number of levels. Nice legs, what I would call an "athletic hourglass" figure, and a warm and generous personality. However, to me she seemed absolutely unavailable, both in circumstance, and by what I knew of her personality.

It was supposed to be a simple good-bye hug.

Joyce stepped into my arms, and the world stood still.

I was aware as she carefully nestled her full breasts halfway into my chest. I simply figured that she was trying not to be too...friendly. Calculating how close she could come. Adjusting for appropriate contact.

But then...

Then she simply relaxed into my arms.

I felt, more than heard, Joyce sigh as her head settled onto my chest. Arms wrapped around me, I was suddenly more aware of her as a woman than I had ever been...which was saying something. As with Linda, Joyce simply melted, allowing herself to flow into me.

In sudden disbelief, as the hug lingered for long moments, I glanced down at her face...just as Joyce slid a hand down to the small of my back, and her soft fingers caressed a slow circle.

Looking at the lines of her face, cheek pressed against my chest, I realized that I'd never understood just how beautiful Joyce truly was.

Two disparate women.

Two hugs.

Incredible gifts of themselves.