The flame that burned so bright is now reduced to ashes. My Sapphic desire has been sated through the words we exchanged – and her lust quelled at the same moment mine did. It was not uncomfortable. Pleasure has turned into business and what was a wonderful affair is turning into an equally exciting alliance.
It suits us both. There was no discomfort, past a little terseness as her feelings towards me changed and she was unaware that mine had evolved in line with hers, if independently. Fireworks make people gasp with their beauty and leave nothing but a hollowed out tube in the morning. But we have been left with more than that. Our intimacy has bred trust. And our trust is leading to mutual benefit. The timing was perfect. Because now, there is another. And unlike everyone to this point, I am scared.
He is a friend. I have known him for two decades. While we haven’t always been in contact, when we recently re-familiarised ourselves with each other, conversation flowed as easily as it had 20 years before, as if we had known each other all along.
My ex told me he thought the friend was interested weeks ago– without jealousy or judgement, simply an observation. At the time, I brushed it aside. The man I remembered was beset with negativity. A lot can happen in 20 years. Now, it has softened into pragmatism – of exactly the type that I need in my life.
He talks as much as I do. He listens as much as I do. And he fascinates me. Our time together is comfortable, easy, honest. I feel no fear about telling him exactly who I am, what I want, how I feel. He understands, even when he doesn’t always agree.
I like it. His brain stretches mine. I suspect I am equally useful to him. My positivity helps him see the options that are out there, even if he does not yet believe himself to be as talented as he so obviously is to me.
We have not touched, but for hugs hello and goodbye, that increasingly send my stomach lurching into my throat. There is a fizz at physical contact that was not there a month ago. It is as if my Sapphic affair opened me up, readying me for something more: preparing me for him.
But I have not yet made moves to push things forwards. Neither has he – though he has sent a complimentary text that put a smile on my face for more than a day. Once again I feel teenage. But this time it is balanced with the very adult realisation that if I take a step onto the path that I suspect may be there, there could be a long journey ahead.
Every significant relationship I have had has seen my lover marry the next person they met – or at least get engaged. In the past, I saw this as a negative judgement about me – a sign that I was not good enough to commit to. Now, I realise it is me who is the commitmentphobe.
But I want him.
It is more than just sex. He balances me. He intrigues me. He has a brain that I want to dive into, immerse myself in, soak up and explore. He has aged as well as I have, mentally as well as physically. I suspect our spirituality is in alignment. He is clearly interested by me and, I think, in me.
Part of me wants to confess all to him; tell him that this week has seen me pleasure myself to images of him, half formed, no specific acts but simply a feeling of ‘him-ness’ invading my mind as I press my Doxy to my pussy.
I suspect he has a dominant side. I am curious as to whether there is a submissive side to go with it. I do not want to commit to having the same sex for the rest of my life. I enjoy playing with power.
I am unsure as to whether I want to commit to one gender, though monogamy does hold an appeal for me. I want the emotional freedom of polygamy, the lack of control or self-justification, but I am happy to give him alone my body – even if part of me is tempted to posit the idea of the occasional threeway to allow me to have the best of both worlds. I do not want to assume that, simply because he is male, this is something he will be open to.
I have never felt like this before. Usually, I chase what I want. Now, I am letting nature take its course, seeing how our paths merge – if they do. He is too important to me as a friend for me to forsake it for something as easily attainable as sex.
I thought I was happy with masturbation alone – but for the last three days he has been there in my mind whenever I touch myself – and thoughts of him have incited a need to come. Where once I saw no point in allowing a man inside me again, was scared of the consequences, now I crave his weight on my body; his hands tangling in my hair as he kisses me deeply, hard cock pressing against me through his jeans. And whatever follows…
I am holding back not because I do not want him but because I want him too much. I know that I deserve love. I suspect that we would be sexually compatible: our minds fit so easily together that it seems unlikely our bodies would be any different. But it seems too big to comprehend: not in a physical way but in an intimate one. We share a similar body clock. We are passionate about the same things. We have the same level of fitness and the same desire to improve it. If I had a tick-list, he would score 100%. I have never met anyone so compatible before.
I was not expecting this. I was certainly not looking for it. Am I ready to take the next step? I don’t know – but I do know it is becoming increasingly hard for me to keep my feelings to myself.
But I am. Part of me is scared that it is just an illusion: a desire borne out of being in a new place, having someone familiar helping me feel more comfortable. But there are many people here offering me support. I do not feel this way about them.
There is an ache in my gut; a buzz in my cunt. My head is fucked.
I am scared that I am ready to take the next step. I am scared that I am not ready to do so and that I could end up hurting him. I do not want to hurt him. I do not want to lose the connection we have: the fun days together, walking along the canal, babysitting a mutual friends’ child, having wide-ranging discussions over cups of tea. I do not want to enter into a relationship and fall into my own negative patterns that have sabotaged every relationship to date. I have always felt a need to change myself to be the ‘perfect girlfriend’. With him, I feel no such pressure: I can be myself – and I want to be. There is no need for any facade. There is no need for anything other than being myself.
He feels too perfect. He balances me too well. I am sceptical of anything that seems so perfect; worried that my brain is playing tricks on me. It has done so enough times before.
But for the first time, I am unable to capture all that I feel in words. There are too many to trap on the page. There is too much scope to tie it down.
I want him.
I think he wants me.
I wonder which one of us is going to admit it first.
Read Part One of Spring Awakening
Read Part Two 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 Eight of Spring Awakening