The Tale Of Marlon or: ... Part 2

This post has been posted, pulled down and re-edited more than any other before.  I think I was finally able to articulate my thoughts, but I'm not totally happy with it. 
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We didn't kiss, at first and I wasn't sure we were going to.  There was ample play.  He touched me.  I went down on him.  There was no coming, just touching.  He takes first place on the list of "Greatest Penises of All Time."  It was my largest experience to date and quite beautiful.  I am not going to say too much about the details of his physical appearance.  It was great.  He was great.  But, his greatness extends far beyond his beautiful arms and his great smile.

After an unknown number of minutes/hours, we stopped the foreplay and started the conversation and snuggling.  We talked about all sorts of nonsense as I kissed his chest and shoulder.  He asked if I had a thing for shoulders and I explained that while I did sort of have a thing for arms and hands, I really had a thing for kissing and biting.  What I did not tell him was that in the past couple of hours, I had really developed a thing for kissing his arms and his chest.

I almost wanted to stop it there.  I wanted to say ... this was a great time ... and roll over and go to sleep.  I wanted to keep it just like it had been.  But after another unknown amount of time, we kissed and we started making out. The kissing progressively intensified and eventually he was on top of me.  At that moment, I wanted him more than I had wanted anything.

When he entered me, there was slight pain, followed by an overwhelming sense of pleasure.  His movements were so perfect.  He filled me perfectly and I have not been that turned on by a man in a very long time.  I immediately knew I was going to have an orgasm.  The trick was going to be keeping it at bay long enough to feel what I was feeling for as long as possible.  His movements were slow and deliberate and our mouths only left each other's long enough for him to kiss my neck and shoulders.

At that moment, I realized what you give the woman that has everything.  You give her intimacy.  You make her realize on, a greater level, what she doesn't have.  I have had, do have a plethora of gorgeous men.  I have been fortunate enough to be able to discover what I like in bed and what I do not.  I have had some amazing partners, but lately, I have started to worry.  Though most of the men I have been with have been unique in bed, there has always been this underlying common factor.  There was something I could never put my finger on.  They all had a different kiss, different touch, different movements.  But, it was hard for me to set any of them apart from the rest.  There was always something missing.  I assumed it was something I was (or wasn't) feeling.  It was always just sex.  Sex with some was better than sex with others.  Sex with The Powerful One and The Player was amazing. But, in the end, it was all just sex.  This was something else.  I don't know what it was, but it was something new.

I have been thirsting for intimacy and for a connection and he was giving me water.  That is the part that made me feel vulnerable.  That was the part that scared the shit out of me.  I was fine laying down for him.  I was fine having fun.  I was fine coming with him inside me.  I was not fine with the way he was looking at me.  I was not fine with him telling me that he liked me.  I was fine with him dating a lot of women and probably having a connection and sex like that with all of them.  I was not fine with the possibility that I felt that connection all by myself.  After I came twice and turned over to move as slowly and deliberately as he had for me, after he had come, as I lay there with him over me, I could only ask him to stop looking at me like he was.  (I know .. I might as well put this in a poem and put on some neo-soul. Don't worry.  My tender moments are few and far between. Live it up while it lasts.)

It didn't help that, at an earlier point in the evening, he said he felt like I was entering my 'white picket fence phase.' (He reads the blog and we talk regularly.)  But, I resent that shit.  Who needs a white picket fence if they have a pit bull chained to the front porch?  I'm not a white picket fence kind of woman.  I will give it to him.  I am going through a transition in thought, but it's growth, not conformity.  I still don't need a man.  I never will.  Want is a whole different category.  It's the difference between being fulfilled and being needy.  At any rate, a white picket fence would require losing my little black book and if it all comes down to it, the little black book is going to win out.

I am cynical.  It's not just the blog.  I was cynical before.  I have a hard time trusting men.  I have made some bad decisions and I have been lied to.  It happens to lots of people and it's no special plight I have alone.  But, I have had to develop ways of dealing with it.  This is how I do it.  I am having a great time and that is all good and fine.  As long as there is no real feeling, I can joke about the "post-great-sex-love" and get all ego bruised, if they act uninterested after we have sex.  And while rejection or disinterest hurts, it doesn't really hurt.  It's not even about them.  But, let me feel something real for someone and instead of just enjoying it for what it is, I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff and the only place to go is down.  If he's just saying he wants to see me again because of the blog, that would sting.  And, I don't need to know what real hurt feels like.  I don't need to know what it feels like to actually want to see someone again and it not happen.  No, thank you.

Maybe I am thinking about these things too soon.  I don't mean to make it sound like I have fallen for this man after one night.  This wasn't love at first sight, simply the realization that at even the slightest bit of emotion, I want to abruptly turn and walk away.  I just don't want to deal with indifference or disinterest with this guy.  I have to weigh the idea of whether or not the risk of getting some hurt feelings by being another man's Good Time Blog Girl is worth some exploration of his great company and sex.  He's reassured me that he just wanted to meet me for me and it didn't have to do with the blog, but he also brought up the fact that guys will most likely say things they don't mean because of the blog and this is a very true statement.  Also, reassuring me is not his job.  So, I am faced with a decision of whether or not I will see him again.  I am thankful that I met him, but I am scared of actually liking someone.  I know I am guarded.  Ultimately, the question becomes, Do I see him again or don't I?  Another question that could be asked is, Why don't I see this kind of intimacy more often? Why just this one? I suppose only time can answer the question, but it's nice to know that I am not incapable of intimacy or sex on a deeper level.  In the end, regardless of what he felt, I felt something.  This is a question to which I have needed an answer.