About seven months ago…
We had just finished dinner and gone back out to the car. We had decided to go to a roof-top bar for a nightcap and view of the city. I felt so alive and energized in Chi-guy’s presence that I was turned on just by being near him!
Up on the roof, I had a glass of red wine; he chose a Perrier. We stood side-by-side, looking out at the lights of the city, our bodies close, feeling connected. The tension between us having built up all day (and for weeks before), we finally allowed ourselves to touch each other more liberally, allowing our hands to linger longer on each other. He told me his memories of the first time we met, and then leaned in, kissing my lips softly.
“You know all this flirting we’ve been doing?” he began.
“Yeah,” I answered playfully, looking directly into his eyes and smiling, “I’m interested.”
“I like you,” he said.
“I like you, too.”
After canoodling a bit longer, Chi-guy set his glass down, took mine from my hand and set it down, and led me out to the car. We kissed in the elevator, in the car, at red lights…we kissed in the elevator of my hotel after tossing the keys to the valet. In my room, we allowed our hands and lips to explore each other further, slowly undressing each other, appreciating every newly revealed part of each other’s body. He must have touched every square centimeter of my skin with his hands or lips. We took our time, allowing the tension to build, enjoying each moment and new sensation before finally, safely, moving rhythmically together toward climax. And then we held each other tightly as our breath slowed. It was cathartic, healing and magical. For months, both of us had been without loving touch, and it was a gift that we had been able to give one another.
At 3am, I woke up and felt him next to me. I gently caressed his body until he responded, pulled me on top of him and we had steamy, middle-of-the-night, barely awake hotness, such that we didn’t notice or care about our breath or anything else. Our desire for one another was intense!
In the morning, he went out and returned with coffee. We each showered and dressed, almost shyly respectful of each other’s privacy, before walking out together and going about our individual days.
We spent as much time together as possible over the weekend, talking, laughing and walking arm and arm through Millennium Park and the city by day, playfully, passionately, tenderly keeping one another up at night.
At least, that’s how I had imagined it might have happened…