I was home one night; my friend Katharine had been over for dinner with her children. I was putting my son to bed and my Facebook text app buzzed at me.
We had been texting back and forth infrequently but usually it was just a couple of messages here and there. This time, however, he is chatty. We talk about his favorite sport (which he was watching on TV) and that we should catch a game together (his idea). He asks whether “whatshisname” (my ex, Will) had left yet. We talk about parenting.
We joke about the state of homes run by men versus women. About how my job intimidates him. Then out of the blue:
“You scare me a little bit”
Naturally, I ask why.
“You’re very intelligent and well educated”
I tell him the truth: he’s no slouch either. A few comments back and forth and then:
“I love your blonde hair”
WTF? Okay, this is out of character for him. It follows with “I would like to see you soon.” Of course, I’m a bit clueless and start chatting about sometime later, as in a couple of weeks from then. We move on to other topics and he says it again. At that point, I’m pretty sure he’s been drinking. So I give him a date and he says he might be free and then he says:
“I would love to see you right now. I am lonely and creepy.” [Remember, he’s a comedian]
I pause to think. I’m pretty sure he’s been drinking, but he’s still relatively coherent. And although he’s been saying nice things, it’s been 18 years of nothing, really, so it’s not in my head that he’s going to come over and seduce me. It’s not his style.
But the clincher for me in deciding is this: I know how much he is hurting. His mojo is wrecked. He obviously needs a friend and I’m very safe.
So I invite him over. After some bantering about whether that’s a desperate move on his part, he says “I will come now.”
He shows up, and oh boy yeah has he been drinking. Sheesh.
I offer him water and snacks. We sit on my couch. We talk for a long time. He keeps saying “I don’t know what I’m doing here.” I’m reassuring and nice and supportive. It’s probably an hour of chatting, he’s gradually sobering up.
He leans in and kisses me.
It was as wonderful as I had remembered, 18 years prior. It is tender yet yearning. Gentle but seeking.
After a while we break apart. We chat some more. We kiss some more. He showers me with kind words:
“You are so lovely; so beautiful”
“You are so intelligent”
“I could kiss you all day, every day”
“Your hair is like corn silk”
At some point we get horizontal on the couch. He puts his hand up my dress and his fingers find their way into my lace panties and he whispers “will you cum for me?”. Um, yup.
We get more heated; he groans while we kiss (which I love). He puts his hand on my breast. He says “I would like to make love to you but I think we should wait until your son isn’t home.” I concur, naturally.
He tells me he has liked me since the moment we met. He tells me he still remembers what I was wearing the night he introduced me to his Scottish girlfriend. Wow.
I am reminded there are some men who actually have morals when it comes to getting physical with a woman. He gets concerned that he can’t offer me what I want. He is leaving for a few months to do a show and won’t be around. I reassure him I have no expectations and I demand nothing.
Because although he’s lovely, he is not the right man for me. And I’m not ready for a relationship yet.
We share a really tender moment. He calls me “sweetheart”. He runs his hand through my hair and cups my face in his hands. Then he reaches to my chin to brush a hair away.
It. Is. Attached.
[And no, dear readers, if you think this is the sexy yet embarrassing thing I referenced in my post earlier this week – nope. I got something else really good for you 🙂 ]