More T4

I’m still at a loss for words about yesterday. I have only hackneyed clichés: Intense, heart-breakingly intimate, beautiful, hot, tender. Loving.

Moments come to me in flashbacks, flooding me with emotion and desire. Making out on the sofa, biting, playing with each other; how he knew I needed to be fucked immediately when we got to the bed; the missionary askew position which let me control the action even though he was top; his kisses and licks along the nape of my neck and down my back; his moans when I licked his neck from base to jaw as he pumped deep inside me; that deep and close from-behind that had us howling like animals; thrusting against him and watching his face as he came…and the funny. “I think I’ve spoiled you,” he said at one point, and I laughed so hard I almost got hiccups.
Spoiled me? You’ve made other men irrelevant, I thought but didn’t say.
Things we said..
“baby what are you — oh my god, yes.” Every time I came he would twist it, shift it, move it, enhance the position in some way and bring on another orgasm. He is gifted.
“I want to enjoy you..” Him to me, I forget the context, but he was staring at my tits at the time, lol.
“Don’t move.” Me on top. I get controlling.
“What are you thinking?” Me this time. I never ask this type of question, but he started it. There was this expression when we kissed of unbearable sweetness…
“I can’t believe we met on Craigslist,” he responded. Laughter. More sweet kisses.
“You know I care about you because I’m letting you take so many breaks.” I manage to raise an eyebrow at him from where I’ve been pounded to a pulp on the bed. “Otherwise I’d be merciless.” I few seconds later I feel his soft mouth on my pussy (so good when I’m face down) relentlessly arousing me, and before long we continue the sweet debauchery.
We actually slept this time…briefly.
I’ve never been so in love and so in lust at the same time.  Yeah I said it. I mean why deny it? We all know that’s what’s going on. Usually one outweighs the other, but here…wow.
I can barely acknowledge the L-word.  But I have to be honest, that’s part of the process. It feels like love from here. I’m not ready for a relationship, and I’m not sure its even a good idea, considering the age thing, the kid thing (he wants some, I’m done with that), etc. But just walking away is not an option now.
Having dropped the L-bomb, I know I have some ‘splainin‘ to do…but I’m not sure I can explain. I don’t know how it happened. Sex? But it’s more than that. When I told my very dear friend earlier this week that I was pretty sure it was love, her first question was — based on what?  What are my feelings based on?
His character.  What do I know about his character? Not a damn thing, except what he tells me, which could all be fiction. But on some level, I know that he is a decent person with a deep sense of right and wrong.  And that is sexy. Also he is smart, easygoing and sweet.
Usually when I fall in love there is a lot of angst and drama, and a ridiculous sense of urgency about things. I had that for about two days. Then I got over it. I asked myself some hard questions. What was the rush? What would it change/improve/enhance to run headlong into an exclusive involvement? What do I know about him really? Yeah. Slow the fuck down girl.
His calm, steady demeanor, his quiet strength steadied me. I’m still freaked out, but I don’t feel alone. Whatever this is, whatever the future holds or doesn’t hold, we’re figuring it out together as friends and lovers, and we have each other’s back. It’s a tender place to be.

Image: by Lee Bogle. I do not own the image or hold the copyright. No infringement intended.

Known and Unknown

DAMN, people. The harder I pray for decent distractions from the Terminator, the worse these bastards get…it’s like the universe is pushing me relentlessly towards him, or has decided that I need an advanced degree in patience and discernment. Seriously, who needs birth control when you’ve got guys like this walking the streets? Pussies everywhere would lie dormant and undisturbed forever.
First there was the very hot guy who texted and called constantly but only wanted to come to my place — married. Then the guy who took me to the movies and was 15 years older than his pics. Then Talmud guy, so hot, so sweet, so charming, who’s hot move trying to seduce me was running his nails up and down my clothed body like some crazed harpist, then humping me (dressed!) without an erection until I erupted into uncontrollable laughter…and myriad guys with whom I emailed and texted who just disappear for no reason…

I have gone from one disaster dude to the next until the guy this morning, which was the last straw. I thought he would be so good, but…nothing. Literally, we took one look at each other and there was…silence.  We spent a grand total of two minutes, tops, together. “Well, now we got a visual,” he said. “Yeah, I said.” I closed the car door and walked off and he gunned the gas. I know that lack of chemistry happens, but I just don’t want it happening now. That was my last, best hope. I was infuriated all day because in my advanced state of deprivation it meant only one thing: back to the Terminator.
I wanted to have the luxury of letting him decide when we would next meet, but he agreed to meet asap while also giving me shit for not calling unless its to arrange a tryst. Dude, please. OK, I’ll try to call and say hi more…
Also, I don’t want it to be so obvious he has my pussy in a vise. OK, too late for that.
But there has been a ninth-inning development.
Earlier this evening my son’s father called. I often refer to him as my ex-husband because our four years together felt like 25, not because we were married. Anyway, I wrote here earlier about our pseudo-agreement to provide each other with relief sex when either of us had the need. In the eight (nine?) years we’ve been apart it’s never happened, although on occasion we do fool around.  We pretty much had the most horrible break-up ever, and it’s a testament to both our therapists that we can even be in the same state, never mind co-parent successfully and be friends.  Also our love for our incredible, beautiful son has a lot to do with it.
A few weeks ago he had asked me if I was up for relief duty as he’s been alone since his last long-term (which for him is around 3 years) left.  I told him I was willing, and he said as soon as his vasectomy is re-done (they come undone?) he would be in touch. I never heard anymore about it it, and I figured that he just wasn’t interested or had met someone. But tonight, after we discuss weekend plans for our son, he asks me how I’m doing and what’s up with my dating life, etc. He knows the score with me and he knows what I’ve been up to.  So I catch him up on the latest, he gives me his opinions/advice and wants to know when we can get together for a tryst.  Long story short? Friday night.  It was very classy of him to again apologize for everything he did wrong…horny, but classy.

Image: Venetian Lovers by Paris Bordone, Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons

A Sigh of another Sort

I’ve been trying mightily to distract myself from everything Terminator with no success whatsoever.

Waking and sleeping, I’m thinking about him, remembering him, longing for him. The sound of his voice does something metaphysical to me that I can’t explain.  I can barely admit to myself what is going on.

We haven’t seen each other but we speak every other day or so…and I see the yawning chasm of a relationship opening up before me. I hate and love it, and every time I’ve tried to put another dick between me and the situation at hand, it hasn’t worked out.

It’s hard for me to have any kind of confidence that these feelings could lead to anything that ends well, which is why I’m fighting it so hard. It’s my own insecurity. And let’s face it, incredulity.

It’s not the age difference (when he was born I was a sophomore in high school), if anything he is more level-headed and mature than I am; It’s the fact that it is so intense so quickly.

I feel as if I’m being carried by a current, flailing to steady myself, and he is already there on the other side, calmly waiting to catch me and pull me out. In other words, he’s there, he’s just waiting for me to make my way. And I feel crazy for feeling this. How can this be? How did this happen?? I was just minding my own business.

He is trying hard to become friends, which delights and infuriates me. He has stopped the fuck-fest cold, even though we had agreed to go on as before, but we are getting to know each other and have a few hours-long conversations, but he’s being elusive.  I’m pissed and impressed and a little jealous, but really, I know that nothing and no one that crosses his path can even approach our heat and intensity. He has said as much more than once. We are in another dimension.

Yeah it bothers me thinking about him with other women, (he denies there are hoardes of them) but I know deep down there is no comparison. Not because I’m so hot or fantastic, but because together we are…beyond belief.

I must admit its almost impossible to have a conversation when we’re alone together, so the phone is the best alternative right now but I am suffering deprivation. If I hadn’t been celibate for so long I would suffer the drought (a couple of weeks?) in silence but I don’t want to. I connected with a very hot very nasty guy online and the chemistry over the phone is super hot already. We’re having coffee in the morning to see if the chemistry is there in person. I’m cautiously optimistic.

Image: Daydreaming by Francois Boucher. Public Domain PD 1923 via Wikimedia Commons
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