Every now and then, I get the urge to call her. Sometimes I do, and we hang out and it’s pretty fun. Sometimes, though; I don’t. I can’t. I often think of her and how she makes me feel when she’s around. It’s usually because I’m stressed or depressed in my relationship. Those times, I refrain because in the back of my mind I always think of her as the one that got away. I sometimes wonder if she ever sees me that way. With the way things have been, maybe I’m about to find out?
It’s time to call her. I’ve been separated for 6 months. I’ve been sheltered and shy for long enough. So it’s time. Ring-ring
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me! How’ve you been?”
“Oh my God I was just thinking about you and how we need to have another burrito night!”
Perfect.
We talk and she’s still able to make me smile just by being her. We agree to hang out soon, and soon we do. The conversation is usually pretty flirtatious between us, and we’ve been a safe space for one another for a long time. The night progresses and eventually, we’re talking about sex. Sex the physical act and sex the experience. Positions, circumstances, within and without relationships. We both essentially feel these days it’s a transaction, more or less. That we agree on that changes the tone for the rest of the evening. Neither of us is looking for a relationship, and now we both realize we have a chance to get some with no strings. This is nuts. And the night is young…
After a few drinks with the neighbor in his hot tub, we head back to her place. I’ve maybe had a few too many drinks. Or tokes. Or both? Regardless, it’s clear I’m not driving anywhere. Having realized this at the same time, she says as much…
“Hey, sweetie? You know you’re not driving tonight, right?”
I love when she calls me Sweetie. And Darlin’. And Hun. Only her. By the time I realize she’s said more than just “Sweetie,” She’s pulling me to her bedroom. “Sleep here for a bit, leave when you’re ready.” And with that, she removes her shorts and gets into bed with me. “I hope you don’t mind,” she whispers, “but I don’t wear panties.”
This is a dream
Sure enough, as she nestles into me to spoon, my hand finds her hip, tracing it forward, inward and… NOTHING! I freeze. She sighs contently and snuggles back against me. I know she can feel me through my shorts.
“Um, why are you still in your clothes, babe?” She’s so matter of fact about it that I actually feel guilty for not having just stripped. She knows, though. I’ve always been shy, especially around her. She’s enjoying it all.
There’s no way I’m this lucky. There’s no surprise I’m this hard…
Love Acadaemia 