It’s been weeks. We need to talk, but lust, as always, is heavy in the air between us. We’ve spoken briefly about the stressful week we’ve had. We’re smiling, delighted to be in the same room at last. We kiss, and as we melt into each other, we make the same noise at the same time, a musical sigh of bliss and contentment Finally we’re I together again.
Our kisses are tender and hungry, a blend of fire-roasted sensuality and sweetness that’s almost beyond enduring. Our tongues linger as we lick, nibble, bite, and suck, loving not only each other’s mouths but eyes, noses, cheeks, ears and necks, eliciting moans and sighs and gasps of pleasure. As we fall back on the bed we’re tightly entwined in a long kiss. He breaks the kiss and moves to my neck and proceeds to lick and suck his way down to my breasts, where he lavishes attention on my nipples before moving slowly down my stomach to my pussy, which evidently is his favorite place in world. Yes, baby yes.
He moans as I push against his wicked tongue, which is both soft and relentless, caressing and insistently driving me out of my mind with pleasure. He stops and kisses that crease where my leg meet my pussy on each side, licking and sucking the full length of me before returning to torment me with licks up and down the center before returning to my clit, which is now aching for attention. His soft insistence is driving me over the edge when he inserts two fingers inside me and turns me into a moaning, panting screaming animal. Oh. My. God. Yessssss!
He’s standing at the edge of the bed, looking me with this lop-sided smile and he doesn’t give me a second. He takes my leg and says “Turn over.” Who am I to argue? First he gives me a back massage that is soooo good I want to reciprocate but he refuses.
He props me up on my knees and proceeds to dive head first into my ass (guys I don’t get this but it feels heavenly) and then my pussy. His kisses move down my legs from thigh to toes. He takes each one in his mouth. Then the other leg…sweet Jesus, and then having properly turned me to jelly, he enters me from behind, where we start slowly, sweetly and build up speed and intensity until he pounds me to another amazing orgasm. I’m incoherent by this point and he he gathers me up in his arms and holds me. We’re all kissy and caress-y and I’ve never been more content in my life, but things are about to take a turn for the complicated.
So when last I heard from the Terminator, we were at a standoff of sorts. I had lied, he knew or suspected, and all communication had stopped. I said I wouldn’t reach out until he did, and then the bad date happened. Then I decide to do Talmud guy but he has to go to London for a week. We tried mightily to fit in a tryst before he left, but couldn’t. So there I was, frustrated, fed up, and out of viable options.
I called Terminator early on Wednesday afternoon but got no answer. I hung up and thought I’d try one more time in the morning. After that, oh well. That evening he called me back and we talked for over an hour. We didn’t discuss the impasse at all. It was a “so glad to hear from you” conversation. We talked about family (his mom is sick and recovering), his birthday (which happened while we weren’t communicating), his five-year-plan and raising kids and food. And of course when we would see each other again.
But just like his bed, whenever I tried to end the conversation so he could tend to his family he wanted to keep going. We were both happy (I know I was thrilled). “It’s not like we get to talk a lot when we’re together,” he says. “Basically I just want to tear your clothes off the minute I see you.” He truly sounds elated to hook up Friday, as am I. But we both know there’s the elephant in the room that must be attended to. Apparently we’re equally reluctant. Well, it would be better face to face anyway.
We’ve been relaxing a little while and I say “Let me ask you a question. How do you keep from getting emotionally involved with all these women? I think I’m getting emotionally involved, and I so don’t want to be that chick that’s totally strung out on a guy who’s not interested…I don’t know what to do.”
“Usually I re-direct myself, think about other things, focus on something else, but…”
“But it hasn’t been working with you.”
“I thought I was sensing something, but I wasn’t sure, then I thought I was crazy…don’t say what you think I want to hear. I need you to be totally honest.”
“You’re not crazy. It’s amazing between us. When I try to ask you about it you change the subject. The last time was so amazing and then you couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”
“That’s not true!” I’m laughing, but really I didn’t rush out.
“You ran out of here like a bat out of hell,” he’s laughing now.
Is that true? Was I so afraid of catching feelings that I ran out of his house? I don’t think so but…
“It’s just that neither of us wants a relationship, that’s how this started, I was trying to decide what to do.”
“So what have you decided?” He sounded like he expected me to dump him. Maybe in an alternate universe.
“To deal with it, and talk to you. One of my friends said you had to be going through the same thing.”
“She was right.”
“I tried re-directing. I mean I didn’t go to Vegas, that was about creating distance, and I’m trying dating other people.”
“Yeah,” he says “I tried that too for my birthday weekend…it was soooo bad…I don’t want to talk about it.”
I laugh. I knew it was his birthday and I was so upset he didn’t tell me anything about it, I thought I had my proof that he wasn’t interested in me beyond fucking my brains out. Now this.
“But it’s been so fast,” I say. “Don’t you think?”
“I’m like ‘why am I sitting here missing her? Thinking about her?’ I’m recently divorced [3 years] and not supposed to be feeling like this about anyone.” He recently stopped skyping with his ex who is re-married and lives across the country. I think he has unresolved feelings for her, but he denies it vehemently. But he thinks three years ago is recently.
“Me too. I almost didn’t send you my playlist (some sexy jazz I put together) because I thought the titles would freak you out.”
“You cannot freak me out.”
“So from day one? I’m not crazy? it was that fast?”
“Day one. When you left I couldn’t believe it.”
“It’s so exhausting pretending this isn’t happening, I don’t want to do that anymore. I just want to enjoy this, as long as we’re on the same page.”
So I didn’t want to have a big huge discussion about what does this mean and are we going to forsake all others because I’m not ready for that, and neither is he. I told him I wanted to keep things the way they were (except more) and as long as we were honest and respectful of each other’s feelings, cool. I didn’t get into specifics because I was freaked out enough bringing up feelings in the first place. That will come later. Yeah, I’ve had therapy. What?
But I’m being naive. Feelings aren’t static; things are going to get more intense, possession is going to come into play (I’m a Leo and once I fuck you, you pretty much belong to me forever is the way it goes in my head), and because relationships are complicated.
And, after our talk (which is paraphrased and shortened here) the sex got better. How is that even friggin’ possible? There was depth; more tenderness, more feeling, more expression…Ok, the man made me stop a blowjob because it was too intense and he started shivering? I would rate my skills as only slightly above average; those always have to come from the heart with me, and he’s never asked, which means he deserves it. And I’m more orgasmic than I’ve ever been in my life. I thought it was hormones. Maybe it’s feelings.