My little kindergarteners drew pictures of their families today. All the mommies and daddies holding hands, smiling. It made my heart ache in a way I cannot easily explain. I am a woman of faith, Alhamdulillah, but I am also a woman of flesh. I see couples in the grocery store, the way a man’s hand rests possessively on his wife’s lower back, and I imagine that touch. I am so inexperienced, so untouched. I have never even held a man’s hand. My fantasies are not just of being fucked, but of the intimacy that comes after. I imagine a man, spent, his cock still soft and wet from my cunt, his head resting on my large, soft breasts as he sleeps. The weight of him. The trust. To be someone’s safe place, to have my body be a source of his comfort and not just his pleasure… that is what I yearn for most. To be a sanctuary.