|2003-09-16 - 10:41 a.m.
time to get dirty again.
i'm the monday night call-girl. that's our joke now. i don't know what to call him to protect his identity. or mine. we've known each other for five years. 2.5 years he was the boyfriend of a close friend. 2.4 years, we did not see each other. he got married to a different girl and we exchanged the occasional sexy letter. then we were both back in sf again. two months ago. i had no expectations. we met for dinner and the ride began. we have always had this relationship of respect. he loved having me around. it raised the party bar. so we reminisced and flirted and touched and decided to go back to his house, where he no longer lived but still owned, and where all of our wild party memories had occurred. and smoking pot...forget it. it is the only way i ever want to have sex or see a movie. call alanon. i don't fucking care. so once we were high, everything disappeared and we fucked like mad rapture for 4 hours. it was the kind of fucking that left me fucked for a week, dizzy and daydreaming in the bliss of our body connections. 4 hours after 3 years of waiting and knowing but never assuming. 4 hours of talking smut and play and pull and delight. 4 hours of staying wet and hard. quite possibly one of my favorite sexcapades.
and then last night. we had looked for each other at burning man because we wanted to play with his wife. and each other. but no luck. we met again for dinner and i didn't expect a repeat performance. it was just great to connect. he's fucking brilliant. he is doing some amazing things with audio production. he was a pop star in the 80's. sorry, can't tell you. he is pretty fantastic. so we met for dinner and he was scoping me the whole time. it wasn't until the vodka gingerale kicked in that i let go completely. different scenario this time. we went back to his house where his friend is now living and the three of us went up on the roof to smoke and worship the city we live in. it was good to hang with just boys. i never do. it was so chill and sexy. it felt like high school. we were all really happy together. it is a good thing i wasn't attracted to our friend. it could have been rated XXX. instead, he left london boy and i alone and the XX began. but it was different this time. now it was clear that the last time wasn't just an on night. we were an on fuck. what ever chemicals trigger whatever nerves, this was how we are together. maybe how we've always been. we fucked in the kitchen on a teal diner booth couch. we couldn't keep our bodies apart. our rhythm. our pace. our want. our relief. the fucking became love-making and we kissed and bit each other's shoulders. and i couldn't help thinking this was more than his modern wife would be ok with. but it WAS ok. and she knew about it. so i just let go and...jeezuz. unreal.