Maybe I'm just being a total girl about it, but I'm really happy about things with the Boy, to the point where I find myself dressing extra nice for dates where we just end up sitting around drinking beer and watching Netflix. It may have something to do with the fact that I've got a closet full of very alluring summer dresses and I just haven't had anyone to wear them for in a while, so having someone to peek down the front of my dress (yeah I see you!) feels great.
Yes, in very short order, we've gotten very close, going from tentative dates a week in advance to multiple visits per week, usually spent with his arm around my shoulder and his hand on my knee. And yet, I think we've been going just the right pace.
Last night, I arrived at his place, and he opened the door, dressed in a nice shirt and tie. This is big for me, because I've had this complex about how I like to get all done up sometimes, but guys usually just show up to dates wearing regular jeans and shirts. It makes me a little crazy, maybe unfairly, but dudes dressing nice, putting in effort to look grown up, is a big turn on for me, and I can't remember whether I had mentioned it or if he just sensed it, but seeing him like that, it was like... "take me now."
But of course, I had to play coy for at least a little while. We were flipping through the channels, he checked on the Phillies game, and we saw some player or other with a huge beard, and I commented "Ooh, that's a bit much." He looked homeless.
The Boy mentioned that a lot of girls like the rugged lumberjack look, and I said it doesn't do anything for me, I like my guys clean-cut. So then he said it was a good thing he wasn't planning on growing his beard out anytime soon, and I said yeah it was... and then there was this pause, which was just perfect.
I pounced, pulled him in close and we started sucking face pretty hard, letting our tongues play around each other. I laid back and let him hold a bit of his weight against me. He had one arm under my head and let his free hand roam up and down my leg and butt, which just got me hotter and hotter. He took his time, teasing my flesh with his fingertips, letting them linger around the hem of my skirt.
"Yeah, yeah!" I whispered, giving him as unambiguous of a green light to do what he wanted with my body.
I don't want to say things rushed from there, only that I could tell he was absolutely ready to go after weeks of dating. After a brief stop to get me out of my dress, and him out of his pants, then to move to the bedroom, it was on.
But first, I want to talk about the moment. My favourite moment. The moment my bra comes off.
I don't really care if a guy can unclasp my bra. I usually end up doing it for them now, because hell, I know it's not that easy. It was the first time he saw me topless, and I have to admit, it's another huge turn-on for me to see the goofy look on a guy's face when he gets a look at the girls for the first - or hell, even the hundredth time. Because I remember what it was like to fixate on breasts (hell, sometimes I still do! Even and especially my own.) And if I may say so, I've got a good pair. They look phenomenal in a bra, especially as I had made a point to pick one of my sexiest underwear sets (red and lacey: like I said, unambiguous green light) and uncovering them only takes away a bit of the fantasy element... yes, they're a bit uneven, and gravity is a bit of a thing, but I know guys don't care. Especially since at this point I've been heated up to the point where my nipples are sticking right out. They're round and soft and bouncy and... oomph, sorry, I'm getting carried away.
And then, the dumbstruck look on his face because he gets to be in their uncovered presence. It's like Christmas morning.
Like, it's dumb and superficial, but being attractive to prospective partners is a great feeling. Having a bit of insight into what's going on in their head is a huge confidence boost. Seeing his part harden and stand even straighter only sweetened the deal... even though I had to halt the proceedings one more time to remind him to wrap it.
Then we got down to business and... well... it was fine. Hey, nobody starts at a 10. It wasn't that bad. He could have taken his time and paid a bit more attention to me, but I was really starting to get there when he finished.
After a brief rest period where we just laid quietly in each other's arms, he was finally ready to go again. I always like going twice in a night because guys get a little more conscientious about who they're with, more eager to please... and yeah, it was still just your standard back-and-forth, but we seemed to start to find our rhythm.
Patience is key. I set myself up for disappointment because I was so into this guy, I was hoping the initial sparks would translate to fireworks in the bedroom immediately. Reality kind of set in, but if I had to choose between okay sex with someone I really like, and
great sex with someone I don't (and I've had both) I'll choose the
former. There's plenty of time to get better.
I think he sensed that it wasn't that great, though, because he was a bit withdrawn for the rest of the night and hurried out of there. I wanted to tell him "Hey, it was a good start," but that probably would have just made him feel worse.