So what brought this on?

This for me is a stolen pleasure, a time & space for me alone as the rest of me is shared with others, husband , children, parents, sister, friends...this is the inner me that I used to share with a journal & it feels good to be writing again. It feels juicy, capricious, playful, deliciously secretive & ultimately sexy. It also makes me feel scared because I want & need to explore aspects of myself which have been pushed deep down whilst I've become a wife & mother...the inner me, the deeply sensual me, the core of me. It's time to open up the bud, gently unfold the petals; to explore the grit which causes the oyster to form the pearl around it; to look into the shadows.

So what brought this on?

Last month my First Boyfriend sent me an email. We haven't been in touch for over sixteen years, so it was quite a bolt from the blue. We started going out when I was fourteen & he was a year older. He was my first kiss, first frustrating fooling around, first hungry lovemaking...first broken heart when he left for university & left me behind for good four years later. But I wasn't conscious of any 'unfinished business' with him. He left a phone number in the mail & before I knew it I'd dialled & heard his voice. We spoke for about an hour & a half, catching up on each others lives, friends we still knew, filling in the gaps, all above board. His voice dragged me back through the years & as he spoke I noticed my heart, which had been racing for the first 5 minutes had slowed right down. My body was fully relaxed. I felt langorously melancholy, almost sleepy as I listened to his beautiful scots accent, his incongruous giggle, his slightly sibilant s's. He said he was coming up in June & maybe we could meet up. I said I'd like that, maybe he could help me with the pigs (keep it on home turf, besides my parents would be here, so he had no illusions of an illicit tryst). I didn't have any emotional reaction to him. I just didn't want him to stop talking, although some of the time I wasn't even taking in what he said just listening to his voice, slipping deeper into a feeling that I'd almost put my finger on...& then it was over. I put the phone down, my mind blank for a few seconds. Then I was overcome with a memory of him hard up against me pressing me up against the wall, kissing my neck until I could hardly stand the sensation of his tongue, my face buried in his soft, glossy brown hair, my whole body melting away in a vibration. I realised then with startling clarity that I felt like I'd just been made love to. My breath was shallow. I could barely believe it, but I couldn't mistake when I usually experienced that langorous sadness. Had my body just had phone sex without my brain's permission? I had to laugh at the sheer perversity of the past two hours of my life. And marvel at the power an old lover's voice still exerted over my body after all these years.

What else am I not even conscious that I'm not in control of?