The Tale Of Marlon or: ...

... Why I Think The First Time I've Made Love In A Very Long Time Was A Performance For My Benefit ... and ... Why This Post Proves I'm Jaded.
_________________________________________________________________


So, turns out I have been doing a lot of fucking.  Even in my old relationships, the sex I was having was devoid of these little things called intimacy and tenderness.  Sure, sex can be great when  a guy is focused on his technique.  It can be great when it's a little rough.  It can be great when done strictly for the purpose of coming.  (Side note - I have been using "cumming" which is totally wrong.  Cum is a noun and come is the action. Moving on...)  But there is a whole other world that I had forgotten.  A world that I honestly can't remember knowing.  This post is really hard to write.  It puts me in a vulnerable place.  That having been said, sex that is slow, tender and deliberate can't be beat.  Meet Marlon.  I have previously referred to him as "The Newest Favorite."  He is the first man to go from a The ... title to a name/alias.  


Marlon and I have been talking for a short while.  I met him online as soon as I got back to New England and he has served as an entertaining text buddy, an attractive Skype partner and, at times, a pretty cool friend.  He's nice.  He thinks we are like-minded and he is probably right for the most part.  I don't really know him that well.  We met, in person, for the first time on Friday night.  It was kind of awesome.  Not at first.  At first, I thought he was bored out of his mind.  Maybe he was.  I had been nervous to meet him and he seemed to be exemplifying my fears.  He didn't seem interested.  When I offered him to take his shoes off and get comfortable while we watched a movie, he said "That would mean I'm staying."  We had planned on him staying.  He drove two hours to get here.  I thought this was a joke, but a nervous woman is automatically going to think that there is some truth to the joke.  The joke, along with the distance between our bodies while we watched a movie and multiple episodes of The Office, led me to become even more assured that he and I were going to remain friends.  I bounced this idea back and forth a little bit.  I thought I could be overreacting.  He could just be taking time.  But, there was that possibility that he just wasn't interested.  


I didn't have too much of a problem with this.  It wasn't awkward and that is what I had feared the most.  Rejection is not too hard for me.  I am pretty secure, with the normal hints of insecurity that come with being a woman in America or possible anywhere in the world.  I am human.  I have my physical "trouble spots" that I am not totally fond of.  But, I don't dislike my body, at all.  I am quite fond of it, over all.  I talk about things that no one cares about when I'm nervous and I fidget.  I was simply worried that I wouldn't be his type and it would make for an awkward evening.  I didn't want obligatory sex or for him to put on a show because he felt like he had to.  I also didn't want a show, so that he would get a good 'review.'  I would never write something bad a bout a person, merely because they didn't like me.  I am secure enough to understand that people have different tastes.  I am 5' 10", have a buzzed head and a double D cup.  Not all men like that, and some love it.  


At some point during our third episode of The Office, he scooted up behind me and put his arm around me.  This was a relief, because I liked him.  He was funny, smart and cute.  But, there was something else.  He smelled like heaven.  I kept trying to relate it to something or someone in my past, but it wasn't identifiable.  It was just his natural smell.  Either I was wrong about him not being interested, or he put on a hell of a show to stay in a favorable light.  Either way, in my eyes, he would have stayed in a favorable light, regardless of what had happened.  We could have had sex or stayed friends.  I was okay with either, but I preferred his touch to his distance.  So, with him wrapped around me, I breathed him in and fell asleep.  


Around 3 hours later, I awoke to the slight touches and movements that indicate the beginnings of foreplay ... the next 4 hours would change a lot of things for me and leave me feeling very unsure about his intentions, myself and this blog.