You exist for so long on temporary pleasures, band-aid solutions & being resolved with what's on offer at that moment. You begin to wonder if it gets any better & if past pleasures are an exaggerated fantasy. Say you've been drinking Australian Champagne & then drink a glass of French. The taste is infinitesimally better. Each sip is explosive. You drink carefully not quickly, the whole experience is altered from just getting squiffy to being possessed by the liquid.
So it goes with sex. Each experience can be pleasurable; you learn enough about yourself to discover how to do this but it's a band-aid. A quick shot in the arm of skin & desire. We have needs, as humans, to have such contact with others. TypeASuperFit is my quick and only shot in the last year. He finds pleasure in my lack of other lovers, believing he has a unique power to satisfy.
Tuesday night I caught up with Voice Man. Our third date. The conversations and discoveries are so much fun, that time slides by, so I knew it would be a guaranteed good night. Mental preparations were surprisingly sparse. I thought only of the night ending with a pash in the car and maybe creating a little window condensation.
In a simple way, we get each other. Word plays, silly laughter, cheekiness & trivial knowledge as personality attractions. There's something really solid about him. Whereas I get flustered and loose all sense of decision making, his presence calms me.
I will blame the toilet door. Seated next to this draughty door at the restaurant encourage us to leave dinner earlier than expected. Carrying the half finished bottle of wine home, the suggestion was to finish it on my new deck - under the outdoor gas heater.
Slowly falling into each other arms after a good hour of silly chatting we almost fell off the couch pashing. He said, "this is your house you tell me what to do". "Well", I said " we can go inside to my room, but no hanky panky!" Voice Man is a rule breaker, quelle surprise. Maybe I'm not good at enforcing them ?
For the next hour I held out. "Underpants stay on!" I demanded. "It's a Tuesday night!" I tried to explain, "I got a wax this morning & I've still got bits of wax on me!".
"I'll do whatever you say, I can be a gentleman" he responded as he stroked and inspired me to break all my rules. This man knows how to touch, to bring your skin back to life. Everything he did worked. He could hold and lift and touch and move like in perfect choreography. Unlike something taught it was a naturally synchronised elevation of desires.
In short, dear reader, after many years of bad sex, I had a night of fabulous sex, thrice. No sleep, who cares ? ! We even saved water by showering together in the morning.
That wonderful rumpled bed hairstyle, smug smile & over-heated skin was the souvenir of the long night of action.
And strangely I'm not worried about where it's going. It's good, he's good & I'd say we are both making each other happy. That's enough for now.
The rabbit is replaced.
Voice Man found this blog yesterday & read it (will read this post too) ...my greatest fear has past. Hello you!
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2 years ago