Highland Park was 30 minutes late for our “appointment” today.
I was so angry I started to question whether I liked him or not. Which is good. Usually I only focus on them, whether they want me or not. I forget that I am half of that equation.
I sat on my front porch, fuming when he finally appeared. He looked sheepish and meek. He knew. I didn’t say anything. I merely got up and walked into my bedroom, undressing along the way, thinking to myself, “I should just tell him to leave. I am not into this anymore.”
Instead, I laid down half naked on my bed and waited for him to follow.
I told him to take off his clothes and hold me. He laid his head on my chest; I slowly stroked his hair and face. My anger evaporated in my insatiable need for connection and his touch.
He does that to me. I can be so annoyed with him for talking about his wife for two hours and then he touches me, and I melt.
We have chemistry, for what it is worth.
And what is it worth, when you have insane chemistry with a married man in an open marriage? The worth is hard to value.
We kissed. We got naked. We fucked.
Sweet, tender, raw, passionate, sweaty, sexy hot sex. For about an hour. I came in the first 5 minutes. Easily. Once he entered me I was pretty much done.
He brought some toys with him. It was cute how he approached it, trepidatiously. They are his wife’s toys. She encouraged him to bring them. Weird, but okay.
I experimented with them all. Totally weird but strangely fun. He also pulled out some bondage rope he has never used before. But sadly, we didn’t have time. I had to pick up my daughter by 3 pm.
He didn’t have an orgasm.
He explained that he woke up this morning with a raging hard on from a dream about me and needed to relieve himself then, leaving nothing for me, later.
He promised to wait for me, next time.
He wants me. I love it. It’s been so long since anyone has wanted me that I am like a cat lapping up milk that hasn’t eaten for days and has been hiding from coyotes.
Before he left, I straddled him and rocked my own world. Holy Shit!! What is it with that? I usually get so bored and tired and annoyed on top. He doesn’t have to do a damn thing. Seriously. He could just lay there for hours, and I would be fine. Except for my legs cramping. That part is challenging.
Laying there postcoital I made out with his left nipple. He said he has never felt anything like that before.
I find it hard to believe that his wife has never suckled his awesome perfect nipples.
I didn’t get a chance to shower before taking yoga with his wife.
I didn’t tell her. We are not that close. Yet.
The man can fuck. That is the truth. He has passion and intensity and playfulness for days.
Will I ever find another like him? It’s hard to imagine. But one day, must be true. He can not be the only one. Even if he feels like it now.
I was a better parent this afternoon. I was more calm and patient.
My self-care box was ticked. I felt full.
I need to have sex.
And I am not ashamed to say that out loud and proud.