Apparently my life has turned into a porn film. I have a potential new lover, one I met in a very x-rated flick kinda way. He showed up on my doorstep to deliver me a pizza. Quick: turn down the lights, cue the cheesy music and let me get my clothes off so I can fuck him.
Of course, that’s what everybody thinks when they hear how I made his acquaintance, even though it didn’t go down that way. This boy caught me completely off-guard, and when I first laid eyes on him standing on my front porch, sex was the furthest thing from my mind – I was starving and wanted some dinner.
Oh, you brought me a pizza! Let’s fuck!
Not only did he pursue me, but he did so quite patiently. He didn’t even try to kiss me until the end of the third date, gave me time to talk to him, allowed me to get to know him and feel safe with him. There was a flurry of text messages, and then I left town for a couple of weeks. We still haven’t had sex (at my request…it’s more fun to drag it out and torment each other for a little while, allowing the sexual energy to build), though the sexting has been hot and heavy, and the night we spent fooling around was extremely erotic and left me wanting more. I invited him out, got way dressed up and took him to dinner. His eyes popped out a bit when I walked up to the restaurant. Which was exactly what I wanted…. Telling me that the meal I prepared him was better than what we ordered in the restaurant was a nice touch (my cooking skills leave a lot to be desired).
He’s a 5th generation Texan, and has the gentlemanly behavior, sweet southern charm and nice manners that come when a boy is raised in the Lone Star State, but with the extra benefit of having lived on the west coast for a while. He is handsome and boyish, with brown hair, blue eyes, a scruffy beard and a soft, round belly. He has almost no hair on his chest. He’s just shy of 6’, which is a bit taller than I prefer, though I could almost look him in the eyes when I wore platform shoes out to dinner. He’s almost 20 years younger than me, though it doesn’t make much of a difference. In the bedroom, we seem to be well-matched, with high libidos and mutual wicked imaginations. I’m actually more than a bit surprised that I don’t intimidate him. When we were making out on the couch after dinner, I looked at him and said that most men were scared of my sexuality. He laughed, kissed me again and told me I had been hanging out with the wrong guys. Okay, you don’t have to convince me – I want to know where to find the men who say “yes, gimme more.” For the moment, though, I’m happy to have found one of them. It feels really good to have someone appreciate my libido, instead of treating me like I should be ashamed of my sexuality.
When I was married to my ex-husband, I would be climbing the walls because our sex life consisted of about five minutes, start to finish, once a month. He would get resentful and tell me I was a sex addict because I wanted to have sex with the man I had said “I do” to. It occurred to me, at the time, that perhaps it was better to find someone who wanted what I wanted rather than for him to convince me to live in his world (which I did, for the better part of five years), or for me to wait for him to live in mine (something that never happened, regardless of how patient and understanding I was). Neither sex life is better or worse, and people deserve to have sex how they want and when they want it, but when sex drives are that badly mismatched, nothing good can come of it. I was a cranky bitch most of the time, and couldn’t figure out how to shift the energy, make him want me, or even get him to tell me what it was that he wanted or needed. In retrospect, I was just way too much for him – he needed something that more resembled an old Ford truck, and I was a Lamborghini.
The new boy, though…I think he’s driven a sports car a time or two, and knows when to accelerate around the curves, and when to put on the brakes. I’m enjoying learning how it feels when his arms slip around my waist, the softness of his tongue sliding between my lips when he kisses me and watching him jump when I bite his extremely sensitive tiny nipples. I loved watching him masturbate to see what sort of strokes he used (and filed the information away for when I wanted to get him off with my hands), and delighted as he quickly became erect when I sucked on him. I kept coming back to his cock, torturing myself by allowing him into my mouth but not into my cunt, where I really really wanted him. I think he likes the way I squirm…he’s quite up for playing this game.
I have no idea of how our relationship might develop – I don’t really have much interest in having a boyfriend at the moment. But having a lover or three, that sounds like a damn fine idea. Nice to have a willing victim.