And this is why...
I love dating. There is so much POTENTIAL in it. So many opportunities for amazing things.
I had a lovely date Wednesday night. The guy was a bit (a lot) more of a redneck than I'm used to dating, but seemed really sweet and articulate in his emails. And was just as sweet and articulate in person.
He showed up in a bright orange shirt with wizards fighting fire demons on the front of it (it's so cheesy, but I'm such a sucker for unabashed, oblivious to fashion nerds), a baseball cap, Carharts, and a flannel. And you could tell it was his uniform, his comfy everyday wear. There was going to be no dressing to impress for this guy.
In contrast, my date Thursday night was wearing a very nice sweater, freshly pressed jeans, and nice shoes. Date uniform.
And the differences between them were personified in their clothes. Wednesday night was open, sincere, honest, unassuming, and completely surprised at realizing I was at all attracted to him.
Thursday night was flirty, fun, full of sexual tension, self absorbed, sparring, and all about sex almost from the get go. And that was a whole lot of fun too.
But the differences... the differences make me think. Because I got together with Wednesday night guy again on Saturday. And the sexual tension was just as prevalent there, but it was layered under all these levels of interaction. We genuinely enjoyed each others company. The knowledge that we were going to rent a hotel room and fuck like bunnies probably added to the scintillation of getting to know each other, but it wasn't the most important part of our interaction.
And I enjoyed that. I enjoyed getting to know this guy on a deeper level. I enjoyed letting myself act like myself, normal, not my game face. I was flirty, but I was mostly just nerdy. I corrected grammar and used big words, we talked about baking and books, and I pushed myself out instead of just letting someone push themselves in.
And the sex, reflecting that comfort, was fucking STUPENDOUS. Just... amazing. Full of laughter and giggling and surprised wonder. I love that feeling. I love the amazement and joy in discovery. That's what I get from sex. That feeling of exploring new territory, finding new and awesome ways to bring pleasure to someone I like. But most people, I've found, have a script they don't deviate from when it comes to sex. They know what makes them feel good, they assume they know what makes you feel good, and they follow that script doggedly, come hell or high water (or not come hell, as the case may be).
With this guy, it was all improv. It was a little hesitant at first, but every move forward was directed by the knowledge gained from a previous move, and each moment was progressively more confident. We reacted to each other, instead of just reacting to ourselves. That is so fucking rare, at least in the realm of casual sex.
We had sex three times over the course of the night, and spent the times in between stroking, learning flesh and pleasure points. And each time he came, it was like Christmas. It's not hard for me, though sometimes it takes some dedication on my part. But for him, each time was a revelation. Watching his face while sucking him off was AWESOME. And the big goofy grin, followed by laughter, was such a turn on.
Sex is joyous, folks. May it always be so.
I had a lovely date Wednesday night. The guy was a bit (a lot) more of a redneck than I'm used to dating, but seemed really sweet and articulate in his emails. And was just as sweet and articulate in person.
He showed up in a bright orange shirt with wizards fighting fire demons on the front of it (it's so cheesy, but I'm such a sucker for unabashed, oblivious to fashion nerds), a baseball cap, Carharts, and a flannel. And you could tell it was his uniform, his comfy everyday wear. There was going to be no dressing to impress for this guy.
In contrast, my date Thursday night was wearing a very nice sweater, freshly pressed jeans, and nice shoes. Date uniform.
And the differences between them were personified in their clothes. Wednesday night was open, sincere, honest, unassuming, and completely surprised at realizing I was at all attracted to him.
Thursday night was flirty, fun, full of sexual tension, self absorbed, sparring, and all about sex almost from the get go. And that was a whole lot of fun too.
But the differences... the differences make me think. Because I got together with Wednesday night guy again on Saturday. And the sexual tension was just as prevalent there, but it was layered under all these levels of interaction. We genuinely enjoyed each others company. The knowledge that we were going to rent a hotel room and fuck like bunnies probably added to the scintillation of getting to know each other, but it wasn't the most important part of our interaction.
And I enjoyed that. I enjoyed getting to know this guy on a deeper level. I enjoyed letting myself act like myself, normal, not my game face. I was flirty, but I was mostly just nerdy. I corrected grammar and used big words, we talked about baking and books, and I pushed myself out instead of just letting someone push themselves in.
And the sex, reflecting that comfort, was fucking STUPENDOUS. Just... amazing. Full of laughter and giggling and surprised wonder. I love that feeling. I love the amazement and joy in discovery. That's what I get from sex. That feeling of exploring new territory, finding new and awesome ways to bring pleasure to someone I like. But most people, I've found, have a script they don't deviate from when it comes to sex. They know what makes them feel good, they assume they know what makes you feel good, and they follow that script doggedly, come hell or high water (or not come hell, as the case may be).
With this guy, it was all improv. It was a little hesitant at first, but every move forward was directed by the knowledge gained from a previous move, and each moment was progressively more confident. We reacted to each other, instead of just reacting to ourselves. That is so fucking rare, at least in the realm of casual sex.
We had sex three times over the course of the night, and spent the times in between stroking, learning flesh and pleasure points. And each time he came, it was like Christmas. It's not hard for me, though sometimes it takes some dedication on my part. But for him, each time was a revelation. Watching his face while sucking him off was AWESOME. And the big goofy grin, followed by laughter, was such a turn on.
Sex is joyous, folks. May it always be so.
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