I felt like a jerk standing up someone whose company I enjoyed previously. I was anxious and sexually wound up: I wasn’t sure I could contain myself if I went ahead for another date. My confusion spoke for me when I cancelled on him but my need for physical contact kicked my butt to ask him for another shot at the date . He was game on that cold, extremely windy October night (even hopping into my car to help me find a parking spot).
While we “watched” Minions (terrible movie plot but ADORABLE cast!) at his place, we talked throughout it. He pointed out the places he’d demo’ed in his apartment and the interior design was perfect and very neat. I found it sweet he had his apartment cleaned from top to bottom, knowing I was coming and lit some candles. We killed the lights and I did my best to stay on my end of the couch… until he confessed he’d been wanting to kiss me from the moment we met. Quickly, he grabbed my hands and pulled me close as we straightened our bodies out on that large, comfy couch. I was incredibly tense lying half on top of him and talked a little faster.
He told me again how badly he wanted to kiss me and I closed my eyes and backed my head in the cushioned armrest as he leaned in. With gentle, small kisses he figured out which way to kiss me for a response from my body and lips. For all his tenderness, the tears overflowed under my eyelids and slipped out anyway. I couldn’t catch my breath and each one shuddered through my body as I desperately tried to slow down or figure out what the fuck was going wrong in my head. I felt like my heart was breaking all over again: I was somehow betraying Beck even when I knew we were broken up and that what I was doing wasn’t wrong. I felt like it was my soul crying. So, I stopped him and I choked out, “I don’t know why I feel so guilty right now.” I didn’t want him thinking I was crazy or that I didn’t want his kisses and advances.
Him: Because you’ve been with only one man for seven years. It’s natural that you’re not used to kissing someone else. You’re not betraying him, he betrayed you and you’ll learn to get over the false-guilt, I promise.
Those words unlocked the gate to my heart and I needed them: I couldn’t form them on my own because my love for Beck got in the way. With that, I was able to return his kisses and press into, not withdraw from, his body. As gentle as he was, he was firm in his guidance… elsewhere, too, but wasn’t that a given 😉 I trusted him when he picked me up and moved us into a more comfortable spot – a kind of physical trust I’ve only had with one other: Jed.
His right hand slid under my shirt, slowly circling up to my bra then, quickly plunge down my flat stomach and under the waist line of my jeans. With his left hand, he undid the bra hooks just as he felt my body stiffen up. He whispers against my neck, “Are you okay with this?” He’s inadvertently found my sweet spot (only one other has found that on the first try) as a small shiver of anticipation warms the area my lacy thong is barely covering. He senses me relaxing and becoming almost urgently aroused. As he had so swiftly undone the bra hooks, the same practiced ease undoes the buttons of my jeans, allowing greater access to the spot which drove me into his apartment. I’m literally quivering under his kisses as the fingers of his left hand brush up and down my spine: making me involuntarily arch my back and press my body tight against him. He’s loving my moans, teasing my hardened nipples with his hands and mouth as his right hand travels ever farther down in my jeans to glide under my thong.
Me: Bite, right there, bite my neck… oooooh, yes, yes, my shoulder and collar bone! Fuck, you’re going to make me cum!
Him: Baby, you’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that… OH! I’m gonna cum…
We fell asleep there, on his couch, as dawn rose. I remember waking just as I was falling from the edge and he, too was asleep, but he instinctively grabbed me before I hit the ground. Combined with his intelligence and sensitivity, catching me while asleep shows a rare kind of perception.