He has become lodged the swirl of my mind. One night of casual affection, without any sex, and he somehow caught onto the branch marked, ‘desire’, and in doing so forced it to blossom.
Forced is too harsh a word. It was not a deliberate or hungry attempt; he did not push himself on me or attempt to persuade me to be sexual: quite the opposite. He was the perfect gentleman.
Perhaps that is what makes him so intoxicating. When sexual desire is too easily flamed, there is eroticism in someone maintaining control. When sex can be so overwhelming, it is arousing being with someone strong enough to resist its urges.
It doesn’t make my desire for him any less carnal.
It would have been easy to suck and fuck; a take-away fumble that would have had little consequence. Except we do not want that any more. I knew which buttons to press and deliberately kept my fingers off the switch. He knew where complication lay and was clear to define terms. We have both had enough sex to realise it is easily gained; enough good sex to know what makes sex good; enough bad sex to know it is not the answer to everything.
A cheap fuck has its place but we were not in that place.
Simply being friends, enjoying each other’s company fulfils a role far harder too fill than mere sex. Both of us have many choices of people whose bodies we could entertain and be entertained by. Finding someone to talk to, unencumbered by pretence, able to talk in shorthand offers something worth more than a simple release of bodily fluids.
In succumbing to desire, he could have been anyone: in resisting it, proving himself trustworthy to be intimate without being intrusive, affectionate without being amorous, he set himself above the rest. Not that many would be given the opportunity to discover that nowadays. I share a bed less freely than I once did.
Now I know that he desires me but controls that desire, it makes a pulse beat in my cunt. I do not want to tempt him away from anything that he feel is right; but if he is happy to be honest and willing to explore, I know there is fun that we could have.
I want to press my naked body to his, feel his skin against mine and his thighs between my own as our hands roam each other’s bodies. I want to sink into his kiss and see where it takes us. I want to smell his scent and taste him again, feel him stiffen at my touch and swell under my fingers, in my mouth.
I want to explore, and learn his body anew, while he does the same with mine, free enough to let him pleasure me, unafraid to explore and relay my needs; and open enough to create our own rules by finding where our boundaries lie; familiar yet unknown; safe but complex.
This is not an invitation to any specific act or role; not a step towards commitment or a step back in time. Instead, it is simply capturing a feeling that, should our bodies and minds lead us that way, there could be scope in allowing them to meet.
I am new to sex: relearning it after I let my past cloud it for too long. I do not know what I want, but I do know that I want to play.
I like the thought of him as a playmate.
Read Part One of Spring Awakening
Read Part Three of Spring Awakening
Read Part Four of Spring Awakening
Read Part Five of Spring Awakening
Read Part Six of Spring Awakening
Read Part Seven of Spring Awakening
Read Part Eight of Spring Awakening