After our first brief coffee date, which wasn’t a date as much as pre-screening, I explained to Sevag while I had Liam for longer than normal, perhaps we could find another time for coffee or a quick after work drink.
He was very keen to see me again. He told me he could still taste me on his mouth, and he liked it. That he was entirely distracted with thoughts of kissing me – and more.
We spoke again on the phone at night and had another nice long conversation that covered multiple topics. He was easy to talk to.
He sent romantic texts, speaking of how much he already missed me, how much we had in common, and how much potential he saw.
I felt off balance with the intensity and my impulse was to pull back. I didn’t respond in kind but let him know I was interested. He was effusive in his praise. While I agreed with how much we have in common, that we have strong initial physical chemistry, and there seems to be potential, I also know that a few hours of conversations and a quick meeting are not a guarantee.
I’m also not “over” Tony. I don’t think I ever will be. I’m truly resigned to the reality he is stuck, will be for a long time (I can share on a separate post some of the things he wrote to me), and whether I’m in contact will have no bearing on his moving forward. So I don’t have hope for a different outcome in any timeline that practically holds me back from moving on.
I won’t say he’s a lost cause, but I have to act as if he is.
So what’s the problem? I don’t feel ready for someone to feel that intently about me, I suppose. I don’t want to lose myself in something new. I want to be measured about things and to be careful. My history has been jumping in quickly and agreeing to relationship things because the other person adores me and wants to move forward. But then, later, I may realize it’s not what I want.
I used to get so caught up in someone wanting me it never occurred to me to stop and assess whether I wanted them as well. I’m much stronger now, and have been since my divorce. My self-esteem is okay with being alone and I’m not afraid to walk away from something. Or to take care of myself first.
So I’m being careful.
We decided to have drinks at his place after work, two days after our coffee meeting. He said it was important for me to see how he lived.
I wondered if I would get the chance to see what our sexual chemistry was like. Part of me thought we should have sex soon to know whether that connection matched the intellectual. We agreed chemistry was important, and we had talked about the criticality of a strong sex life in a relationship.
We took a cab to his place, not far from where I work. Entering the elevator, there was someone I work with infrequently. “Oh!” He said. “I didn’t realize you lived in this building.”
“I don’t”, I said, and the three of us looked at each other awkwardly until we reached Sevag’s floor.
His place is a small city apartment, very stylishly decorated but not a typical boilerplate bachelor pad. It was spotlessly clean, nothing out of place, and interesting things were everywhere. Coffee table books, plants, art, photography, items from his trips.
He kissed me as he asked me what kind of wine I wanted. It’s a very good kiss, our styles merging. We are eye to eye, and he’s strong, pulling me in tight against him. I wish I had the words to describe that feeling when you can sense someone’s intensity and passion. It was hot.
There is more kissing as he poured the wine. More kissing as we sat on his couch. I got two sips in and he’s on me, literally, on the couch, kissing me, hands roaming. His mouth was all over me and his beard scratched my neck.
He put his hands on my breasts. His hunger was palpable. We were all over each other.
He stands up and says “let’s go to the bedroom. I can’t wait any longer”.
I laugh and tell him he hasn’t even taken me out for dinner yet. But I want to know what it’s like to have sex with him.
And that, my friends, is the fastest I’ve ever gone from a meeting on a dating site to being in a man’s bed – when a relationship is the goal.
We undress as we go…the classic leaving clothes every step of the way kind of thing. He pushes me back on the bed and lowers himself on to me. We kiss constantly. It’s really good. I can feel his hardness and then he’s inside me – no condom – and I ask him why not use one and he says he was just tested, that’s he’s clean and was I?
“As far as I know.” I say.
I don’t need the lecture.
But damn, does it feel good. He’s rock hard, and he knows how to have sex. He’s an incredibly skilled lover. He’s muscular. Average sized cock but it doesn’t matter. We move together well and he knows how to angle himself that he hits. Every. Single. Spot.
At one point I’m on top of him and he knows just where to put his hands to help me move back and forth. One hand placed above my pelvic bone which gets the pressure just right. I almost had a full body orgasm with him… which is nuts to happen the first time.
First time sex is rarely like this. It wasn’t even like this with Tony. It’s passionate and intense and beyond the technical positives of good sex. We are breathless with exertion.
I’m in the moment with him for the most part, except for the occasional thought that I’d just had Tony in my bed not 12 hours before.
Yes, you read that right. Don’t yell at me, that post is coming next.