Thursday, September 15, 2005
First Date
Earlier I had written about meeting my partner D at a bisexual social function in L.A. I had gone to that party with the intention of meeting another woman. D went there hoping to hook up with a guy, for at least a fast fuck. I had already decided I liked the look of him enough that, if he called me up for a date, I was already set to take him to bed.
Why the hurry? Well, I was pretty horny at that particular time. My hormones were raging. I was approaching the age when women either have that kid or not, time is a fleeting. Not that I wanted a kid consciously. But it was somewhere in the sauce.
I probably also felt I had to bed him early to find out how he really felt about me, as a woman, he being a bisexual man. I wanted to know where the preponderance of his interest lay, with women or with men. And there was only one way to find that out.
Some bi men definitely seem more gay to me than otherwise, and I probably wanted to know where D landed in that spectrum. I like hanging with gay men, but only if they find a point where they want to take me on sexually. It doesn't matter how charming or interesting they may be. If they don't want to fuck after a decent interval of time, I have to move on. There's nothing more there for me.
So off we went, D and I, to a seafood place in the San Fernando Valley. I was housesitting at the time in the area, and after dinner D and I returned there. We hung out and talked, and started smoking some pot. Always a great icebreaker.
D had no idea I was planning to lay him so soon. He figured, well, she's of Swedish stock, and they can be pretty cool types. He'd be happy if he could hold my hand after a few months.
He was rather pleasantly floored that he was holding a lot more than that, and very soon.
We began in the living room chatting on the sofa. He remembers being attracted to the blue sundress I had on, remembering my legs and the way I was seated on the sofa. It felt very provocative to him. I of course have no recollection how I was trying to be at that point. I remember we talked about music. The homeowner had a large collection of classic RnR records, and we put on the Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour. Then D and I decided we really weren't diehard Beatle fans. We were more into the Rolling Stones.
Maybe I felt things needed to be prodded along a bit, because I said something like, "Why don't I show you the upstairs part of the house."
It was a big house. Upstairs we went, and somehow things started in the master bedroom. You would think I would remember every detail about this night. But I don't. It's more that I remember the flavors of the evening. I remember being on top of him at some point, the happy smile on his face, his eyes were closed, and I was admiring the fine reddish hairs on his chest. At some point he tied me face down on that fourposter bed. But the play was light. We saved anal sex for times to come, and there was going to be a lot of that.
It seemed like some cool breeze of adventure had blown into that room, because I remember feeling that this was going to be the most sexually adventurous partner that I had ever had. At least as far as men went. I had the sense that he and I would have very few limits together, sexually, and that was very attractive to me. He was so easy to deal with, and the night felt like a lot of fun. And it felt safe.
In the morning, he walked into the room with a cup of tea and a hard-on.
It beats a croissant any day, don't you think?
= = = = =
Why the hurry? Well, I was pretty horny at that particular time. My hormones were raging. I was approaching the age when women either have that kid or not, time is a fleeting. Not that I wanted a kid consciously. But it was somewhere in the sauce.
I probably also felt I had to bed him early to find out how he really felt about me, as a woman, he being a bisexual man. I wanted to know where the preponderance of his interest lay, with women or with men. And there was only one way to find that out.
Some bi men definitely seem more gay to me than otherwise, and I probably wanted to know where D landed in that spectrum. I like hanging with gay men, but only if they find a point where they want to take me on sexually. It doesn't matter how charming or interesting they may be. If they don't want to fuck after a decent interval of time, I have to move on. There's nothing more there for me.
So off we went, D and I, to a seafood place in the San Fernando Valley. I was housesitting at the time in the area, and after dinner D and I returned there. We hung out and talked, and started smoking some pot. Always a great icebreaker.
D had no idea I was planning to lay him so soon. He figured, well, she's of Swedish stock, and they can be pretty cool types. He'd be happy if he could hold my hand after a few months.
He was rather pleasantly floored that he was holding a lot more than that, and very soon.
We began in the living room chatting on the sofa. He remembers being attracted to the blue sundress I had on, remembering my legs and the way I was seated on the sofa. It felt very provocative to him. I of course have no recollection how I was trying to be at that point. I remember we talked about music. The homeowner had a large collection of classic RnR records, and we put on the Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour. Then D and I decided we really weren't diehard Beatle fans. We were more into the Rolling Stones.
Maybe I felt things needed to be prodded along a bit, because I said something like, "Why don't I show you the upstairs part of the house."
It was a big house. Upstairs we went, and somehow things started in the master bedroom. You would think I would remember every detail about this night. But I don't. It's more that I remember the flavors of the evening. I remember being on top of him at some point, the happy smile on his face, his eyes were closed, and I was admiring the fine reddish hairs on his chest. At some point he tied me face down on that fourposter bed. But the play was light. We saved anal sex for times to come, and there was going to be a lot of that.
It seemed like some cool breeze of adventure had blown into that room, because I remember feeling that this was going to be the most sexually adventurous partner that I had ever had. At least as far as men went. I had the sense that he and I would have very few limits together, sexually, and that was very attractive to me. He was so easy to deal with, and the night felt like a lot of fun. And it felt safe.
In the morning, he walked into the room with a cup of tea and a hard-on.
It beats a croissant any day, don't you think?
= = = = =
