I’m not even going to apologize for my absence this time. The more remorseful I feel about it the better. I’m not making any promises about writing more often, either. I always end up breaking them, and I’m tired of disappointing people, especially myself.I suppose the biggest reason that I haven’t written is that I haven’t really had any new material to write about. I’ve been seeing a student teacher that’s hung like a hamster dipped in ice water. I could live with that part, believe it or not, if he was at least adventurous, but his idea of good sex is pretty much my idea of a sexual hell.
I thought I’d gotten a reprieve since I didn’t hear from him for almost a month, but no such luck. I tried explaining to him why we are just not right, but he refuses to accept my assessment of our situation. I swear all I have to do to get a man to pledge his undying love and devotion to me is not want anything to do with him.
Then on top of all that I’ve made my initial trip into the emotional minefield that is what being with my adorable engineering student really is. He’s not the kind of guy that with whom I can have a sex only kind of relationship. So far, the only explosions have been of the best variety.
I don’t think I’ve ever had so many orgasms in any 12-hour period before. He’s absolutely incredible. Physically appealing, emotionally accessible, and mentally stimulating. I could ask for no more from a lover. He is, as I’ve stated here before, my ideal partner. That little fact scares the hell out of me. I just know that I’ll find some way of fucking it up, I always have. Hell, this could even be it. He reads this thing.
I know he’s looking forward to The Lioness’ take on our time together, and I’m looking forward to writing it. I just don’t think it’s going to be quite as graphic as I usually am here. It wasn’t “just a fuck” so I can’t write about it like it was. It meant something, something very special, hopefully not just to me.
I drove through the rain with anticipation nipping at my stomach. I tried to put the nerves aside. I knew in my heart that this was the right decision. About an hour into my drive, the sun came out and a brilliant, full-arc rainbow appeared. It put my fears to rest better than ten milligrams of Valium would have.
After an uneventful drive (I only got lost once) I managed to find him waiting for me. I hadn’t eaten all day and was famished. He suggested a restaurant and we headed straight there. I think it took us all of ten or fifteen minutes to be comfortable with each other.
We had a great dinner and even managed to embarrass the server. Nothing like having your first private joke fall into your laps less than an hour after meeting. It set the tone for the rest of the night. I think we spent as much time laughing as talking. It was clear that we enjoyed each other.
After we left the restaurant in an effervescent flurry of laughter we drove into the city for a trip to a nice little club. We both stayed sober. Him because that’s his way, and me for two reasons—because I was the driver, but mostly because he’s just too ethical to “take advantage” of an intoxicated woman, no matter how much she wants him. Additionally, I was expecting to have to drive a few dozen more miles after I dropped him off.
Our original plan had me taking him home and going on to spend the rest of the night with a friend. It didn’t work out quite that way, though. I had him within a block of home when he asked me if I wanted to stay with him. I asked him if he really needed to ask. And we laughed some more.
There are some really untenable rules at the house he shares with several roommates, so we had to secure a room. Well, he did, actually. I was pretty much just along for the ride, so to speak. We ended up with a spacious room, with a great bed. We didn’t need much more, really.
First times are usually pretty awkward for most people, and even though it may seem like it isn’t awkward for me, believe me, it is. I just get over it a little more quickly, I guess. However, this time I didn’t really ever feel awkward, not even for a moment.
We went in, put our stuff down and found a comfortable place in each other’s arms. Even though the passion was palpable, we paced ourselves and moved slowly. I’m sure I never wanted anyone more than I wanted him right then. We kissed and cuddled, snuggled and wriggled against each other.
He eventually pulled my shirt off over my head, struggled a little with the tight hooks on my bra, which caused another round of laughter.
He wore a shirt with buttons, which I’d suggested he not do because I was a little concerned that I might just send those frustrating little gate keepers flying all over the place. But I exercised great restraint and managed to get them all taken care of without popping a single one. I vaguely remember unbuttoning his pants, and him removing mine, but it’s kind of a blur.
The first full-body, skin-on-skin embrace felt like coming home after a life-long trip. My soul knows his soul. I kept that part to myself because it smacks of flakiness, but I think on some level he felt that, too.
Our hands roamed each other’s bodies, and our mouths tasted, sucked and licked every possible erogenous zone. I’ve had some lovers that were pretty spectacular over the years, as these electronic pages can attest. But none of them were as good at bringing me to ever-higher peaks of arousal.
I’m going to have to start practicing Tantra again, though. I really need to re-learn how to relax my muscles through hours of sexual tension. Every muscle in my body was stiff and sore the day after I came home. This super-sensual lover could be an excellent Tantrika, too. He’s got all the right qualifications. Patient, loving, an excellent grasp of the female sexual response cycle, a keen (probably instinctual) awareness of gender’s role in the psychology of intimacy, and technical expertise; this is no ordinary man.
We spent hours (yup, I’m going to say it) making love. Then we would nap for an hour or so, wake to the warm, soft skin of our partner and do it all again. We continued this cycle for hours, just making it to the car by checkout time. Leaving that room was a difficult task and we prolonged our parting with a leisurely brunch.
This one makes me wish I were the kind of woman that got commitments rather than just propositions. But, I don’t harbor any illusions. I am nothing if not realistic. I have little to offer in this situation beyond reasonably intelligent conversation and above average sex. So, I will hope that one night won’t be enough for him, either, while I pray that this entry doesn’t fuck up any possibility of future intimacy.
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