Tuesday, March 28, 2017


When I saw him across the patio, I immediately jumped up from the table, and ran over to talk to him. After a while, he left his group and joined ours. We spent the day discussing feminism and politics and everything under the sun while sipping cocktails. As the sun made its way down the sky and day turned into evening, it felt like everything was simultaneously speeding up and slowing down. I thought to myself, I think I really want this now. Finally. And once I acknowledged that, I just let it take me, the way a river current carries a raft. 
It ended up being just the 4 of us, watching HBO and eating takeout pizza till midnight. And then as we all started to fade, they retreated to their room upstairs, I made my way to the guest room downstairs, and he made himself comfortable on the couch. 
My mind was racing as I brushed my teeth and dressed for bed. I wasn't 100% sure if it was a good idea, but I still wanted to. So I turned out the light, climbed into the bed, and reached for my phone.
"Are you coming?"
And then he was there, beside me, stolid and warm, and yet I felt somewhat remote, and apprehensive. He didn't say much at first, but then, "Do you like to be touched?" and I said it depends on the touch, and the person. He told me to lie on my stomach, and I did, and then I felt the light brushing of his fingers against my skin - my back, my arms, my neck, in my hair, sending tingles and gooseflesh spreading in waves to the tips of my fingers. I sighed and relinquished my doubts. 
"Is this ok?" He asked, and I rolled back over towards him and kissed him, softly at first, then more deeply. He responded in kind, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could feel the strength and tenderness, the tentative yet eager hunger with which he applied himself. It started out very slowly, just the kissing, my fingers in his hair, his hands cupping my face. And then he was leaning over me, unhurriedly pulling my shirt over my head, and dipping to kiss my neck, breasts, stomach, and then my mouth again. I don't remember the last time I felt so desired for myself, not just my body. It was in the deliberate way he undressed me, like he didn't want to rush so as not to miss anything, and the way his hands caressed every inch of me, as if his fingertips were his eyes, and the way he lingered over me with kisses. It was so...intimate. And so deferential. I could feel him asking without ever using words if it was what I wanted, as if he was ready to stop at any sign of mistrust or trepidation.
The sex itself wasn't the best I've ever had, but it was everything else! I'd forgotten what true intimacy really feels like. Having that deeper connection with someone, and just letting go of everything and giving yourself over to that person. I didn't want it to end.
Afterwards I fell asleep with my head on his chest, with one of his arms around me, and the other lightly brushing the hair back from my face. It was entirely peaceful. It felt...right.
I was sad to see him go this morning, and I thought...Who would have thought that after all this time, it could be so intense, so passionate, so...easy? But then again, I can't imagine it being any other way, really.