You’ve all seen Zach, and you’ve all seen me.
I’m not a thin woman. Actually, I’m quite lumpy and stretch marky, and unashamedly overweight. But I think, of all then men I’ve been with, he made me feel the sexiest.
He used to gaze at my face with something akin to wonder, and stroke the sharpness of my cheekbones. The first time he saw me naked, he looked at me like someone would look at a goddess, and just said. “Wow. You…. wow.”
Once while we were riding the train during rush hour, he told me my eyes were incredible. He said that they were how he imagined Cleopatra’s to look: dark and hooded and …. guarded. A woman behind him raised an eyebrow at us, and I just smiled back.
Zach was no flatterer though, he always said everything very matter of factly, like he was commenting on the weather.
Zach twined himself around me like a vine in public places, daring anyone to comment with his stare.
He was just… magnificent looking. His body was kind of like a swimmer’s. All lean lines and symmetry. He was just so compact and graceful and flexible. His feet and hands were so perfect, like they’d been carved from marble by a master sculptor.
He kissed with playful enthusiasm,and snuck his hands places
Zach was like a selfish little prince. Demanding, and lofty, beautiful and gifted.
He had a habit of making me paper cranes when his heart was too full, and presenting them to me like tokens of his favor.
I accepted them and kissed every one.