A very merry un-anniversary

Sunday, April 1, would have been my sixth wedding anniversary. Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard all the jokes about how stupid it is to get married on April Fool’s Day, but trust me, it wouldn’t have mattered what day we had gotten married. It was doomed. I was having doubts before the wedding, and even considered calling it off, but I didn’t. This regret is one that I revisited plenty in the year after we split up.

During our Tuesday night tryst, I tell the new boy about the upcoming anniversary, and he offers to come over and help me celebrate my un-anniversary. After I accept, he tells me that he tells my ex-husband must have been the stupidest man in the world not to want to have sex with me, but that my ex’s loss is the new boy’s gain. He certainly knows how to say the right things, though I think he’s just being his sweet self, and is not consciously trying to manipulate me into liking him (as if he needed to do that). I love that he is not afraid to express his desire for me, either verbally or physically. So many men second-guess themselves when it comes to sex, but I don’t feel a lot of hesitation coming from him. Apparently he finds our coupling as compelling as I do.

Sunday morning finds me driving back from Houston when he calls. He has been camping with some friends the night before, and is on his way home as well. I tell him how much I am looking forward to having a long afternoon with him, and that I will have a hard time concentrating on my drive. He laughs, tells me to be careful and that he is looking forward to seeing me in a bit.

I get home, put on a short skirt and a tank top and begin to wait impatiently for his arrival. When he shows up, he is limping – apparently he has overdone it on the jet ski the day before, and is paying the price. I tell him I’m making him take a bath with Epsom salts later on. We sit on the couch and catch each other up on our weekends. Before long I am climbing on his lap, straddling him and kissing him passionately (we seem to end up in this position every time he comes over). He cups my ass in his hands and started teasing me with his fingers, getting them close but never quite giving me what I want. I start shifting around, pushing against him, wiggling and trying to get him to finger-fuck me. He tells me in his deep voice how much he enjoyed teasing me. I try to grab at his hair, which is too short for me to get my hands into and tell him that he has to stop and take me to bed immediately, that if he fucks me now he can tease me later. He agrees to this plan, and we go in the bedroom and strip off our clothes.

I tell him to lie back on the bed since he is in a lot of pain, that I will do all the work. He puts on a condom and I climb on top of him and start to ride. Again, I am amazed at how good it feels to have him inside of me, and I start to cum over and over. While I’m no stranger to multiple orgasms, he seems to hit all the right places, and I’m so wet I wonder if the condom has broken. He is delighted by my pleasure, and tells me I can cum on his cock as many times as I like, and that he’s glad he’s wearing a condom because he would only last 30 seconds if we were skin to skin. I lose any sense of self-control, and continue to moan and writhe above him. He tells me he has mastered the art of having orgasms without ejaculating, and he’s probably had about four or five. Finally, he can no longer hold back his ejaculation, and he comes with a roar. I collapse onto him, panting and kissing him over and over. I realize that I’m very, very thirsty, and drink deeply from the glass of water I have left next to the bed.

I curl up next to him and put my arms around him, absentmindedly stroking him wherever my hands fall. This is the first time in the month we’ve started seeing each other when we’ve had the luxury of lying in bed, talking and touching. We’re still at the stage where flirtation and sexual sparring on email eclipses small talk about our day-to-day lives or more philosophical conversations.  I’m attracted to his mind as well as his body, and it’s nice to have a chance to find out more about what’s going on in his head.

I’ve been wanting to talk to him about some boundaries issues since I’ve been seeing more men than just him. Some guys get extremely turned on by the idea of the woman they’re sleeping with being with other men and want all the details, while others do not. I’ve been talking to him a bit about my other adventures, and he seems fairly neutral. At this point, though, I’m developing more of a conscience about him, and want to make sure I’m not hurting his feelings. I wouldn’t necessarily stop seeing others because he specifically asked me to, but I would be willing to make that choice. I ask him how he feels about me sleeping with other men.

It turns out that he is not in the least insecure, and tells me that as long as it’s consensual, I’m free to do what I want. It neither turns him on nor off to think about me with someone else, but it doesn’t threaten him either. He has utter confidence in himself sexually, and with good reason: he’s a damn fine lover. Here I am trying to be considerate of his feelings, give him a bit of say over what I do, and he just puts it all back on me, and makes it completely my choice. That is an incredible amount of freedom to have; I know so many people who would be envious.

While some people  say they are polyamorous to the core, and others feel drawn to monogamy, I don’t have any preference one way or the other. I managed to remain faithful to my ex under pretty dismal circumstances, but I also enjoyed having the option of being able to sleep with others later in our relationship. But now I find myself in very different circumstances: while I could easily take advantage of my freedom, I have no interest in doing so. The sex I’m having with this man is so good that it seems like everything else would pale in comparison.  At first I thought I would need to have sex with other people because he leaves me horny as hell every time I see him (I’m not pleased about the fact that I won’t see him for another 14 hours as I write this), but I don’t think somebody else would be able to scratch that itch. If everyone in monogamous relationships was having super-hot sex, I’m guessing that far fewer people would cheat. Not sure if this the passion will fade after we’ve been seeing each other a while, or if things will continue to evolve on the upward path of ecstasy, but I’m just going to lie back, relax and enjoy the ride.

After lying around for a few hours, we realize that we’re hungry, and hit a new Vietnamese restaurant for dinner. It’s romantic to be out in public together, and we’re all over each other. It’s been years since I’ve made out with someone in a restaurant. Later we return to the house, get naked and enjoy round 2. Again, it feels amazing, and I can’t stop having orgasms. Since he’s still feeling sore, I run him the promised bath. Around 1 a.m., my eyes start to close, and he takes his leave. I can’t wait to see him on our regular Tuesday night again.

I don’t have much to compare it against, but this one definitely qualifies as the best un-anniversary ever….