The First Touch Of John And Mary

John thought touch was utterly disgusting.

John feared, ached, and hated that feeling of touch. He pained it, and would beat it down to the depths of his head. John wanted to forget it.

Mary despised just as much as John did. 

You’d find it odd, both people who hated that feeling, confide in one another during the night.

Mary turned to John, who laid facing her. John never could sleep as easily Mary could, and would lay there, eyes open without any thought. He clenched two fists on his side.

Mary grabbed his two fists, slowly guiding them to his chest. His eyes shifted to hers. Mary rubbed the surface of hands, opening his fists and tracing the lines of his palms. John eyed her and her actions, softly gazing into her face as it moved just as she would pinch her nails onto his skin. 

John pulled Mary closer, adjusting himself just as so he sat up the slightest bit next to her. He put his fingers into her collarbones, then moving onto the back of her shoulders. Mary looked into his eyes, as she felt him play on the strands of her nightdress. Grabbing his hand again, she moved it to the side of her cheek, the strap of the nightdress now draping down. 

His hand was warm against her face. He sunk his hand into her jaw, taking a breathe before kissing her. John felt young. 

Mary and John shifted themselves into a closer position, passing their love through their mouths like lovers would. And as young lovers, they began to get closer, and closer. 

John was the only one to touch Mary the way he did. John was the first to touch her in the way anyway, more lovingly and passionate than any other would. Mary liked that, Mary liked she only shared that type of love with John. It felt like slow-dancing, it felt safe, it did not feel like pure lust, just a big hug. 

Ben holds Mary’s shoulder, moving her hair away from her face. Ben’s touch is cold, very cold. As hard as he would tried, it was never loving, and Mary knew what he only wanted was something to stuff himself into. 

Anne-Marie hugs John from behind. John turns around, putting his hands onto her waist. He picks her up gently, turning around as her feet waved in the air, both laughing enough to fill the room.