Lovers For Days
It’s been a while since I’ve taken a proper lover, could this sexy man from the East Coast be it?
I’m sitting in the garden a few hundred feet from the ocean; the morning sun beats down gently on my face, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach is infused with 1950s jazz softly humming over what seems to be an antique speaker or perhaps an old record player. My soul is both calm and relaxed but also on fire. Mr. Wilderness arrives in a few days and there is a new kind of excitement at play as I anticipate his arrival.
I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone before his visit, but the universe had other plans.
After the first night with Lover Boy there was a part of me that desired more. It’s been a while since I’ve taken a proper lover, could this sexy man from the East Coast be it?
Just as the night before he stood next to the red truck to collect me, only this time as he opened the door and offered me a lift into the cab, he pulled my wrap around a Pucci skirt to the side to reveal that I was naked. He licked my pussy right there for anyone to see.
We drove down the pitch black road that separated our places; for a desert the road was more jungle than not. He also had on nothing beneath his shorts and while he drove I leaned across the console and did my best to fit all of him in my mouth. Nothing like a little jungle-head.
What came next, pun very much intended, was out of this world sex. At one point I was upside down, my warm cheek pressed against the cool tile floor, ass in the air, my hips barely grazing the edge of the mattress. He was so-fucking-deep it was almost too much… almost. After the fourth or fifth orgasm (I lost count or perhaps the capacity to count) something happened.
I was on top, riding him hard when I started cumming; the intensity of the pleasure kept building stronger and longer and over a full minute later I was breathless, collapsed on his firm chest with his arms around me. “That was the longest and strongest orgasm I’ve ever had”. Truly, it felt like it would never end, “I think we may need to be lovers,” we looked at each other both still hungry for more.
He kissed me, “I’m not ready to let you go,” he smiled and slid inside me again. His words and actions aligned as he made me come once more before we parted ways.
He was Miami bound and we knew it would be months until we’d reconnect, but something told me he would be worth the wait.
Until then Lover Boy.
Lovers
Why is there an expectation that a life partner should be able to tick all of our boxes? Or why are we expected to compromise when we could have it all, just not from one person? Is the the sacrifice of our own needs and desires supposed to be the foundation of longterm partnership? I don’t believe so.
I’ve yet to experience getting everything I need from one individual. We don’t expect our friends to give us everything, that is why we have more than one friend. Why is there an expectation that a life partner should be able to tick all of our boxes? Or why are we expected to compromise when we could have it all, just not from one person? Is the the sacrifice of our own needs and desires supposed to be the foundation of longterm partnership? I don’t believe so.
Six weeks back I met someone. He is smart, handsome, intelligent, kind, respectful and I melt a little more with each kiss. He is generous, worldly, a healthy amount of ambition, and what society would consider a true gentleman. Even though he is more conservative than I’m used to dating, I like him.
Sex. I told him I wanted to move slowly, but maybe that was a mistake. I tend to make relationships about sex. This time it seemed appropriate to get to know the person before getting physical. Now, I’m not sure that was the best move. His conservatism seems to be a roadblock and my inner sexual deviant is not pleased. Let’s call him The Conservative.
So what is a Chloe to do?
Enter, new lover. Tall with badass style, this handsome French-Swiss-Ethiopian man had me swooning hard. He liked the hiphop music playing off my phone and “staring into my mysterious eyes,” the words rolling off his tongue in a unique French-German accent. Let’s call him 007.
“You have the sexiest accent,” I was taken with each word and he grew sexier switching between the French, English and German dialects he was raised with. After taking two puffs of a freshly rolled joint we kissed in the front seat of his car.
First dates in Covid times truly take me back to high school. The heel of my boot was resting on the dash. Like teenagers we were parked down the road from my apartment. His hands running along my shin and up my inner thigh. He pushed his fingers inside me and then pressed his now wet fingers along my clit massaging me until I begged to feel them inside me again.
His kiss, rough and rugged, firm and passionate. I reached between his legs to feel how hard he was. Grabbing his cock with one hand, I placed the other on myself. With his fingers inside me and mine teasing my clit, we worked together until I let go in orgasm.
“Come up,” I said, wanting more.
“No, let the anticipation build,” he smiled and I wanted to smack him across his handsome face, “Tomorrow?”
“Wednesday,” I replied as I got out of the car, and as he had said just moments before I looked him in the eye and repeated, “Let the anticipation build”.
He laughed and we both knew there was no way we’d be waiting until Wednesday.
Longterm Lover
“Damn,” I couldn’t help but think, “This man is hot, intelligent, with next level style… Yes please.”
It was just another Tuesday night at The Bowery Hotel. Usually I sat out back on the patio, but tonight I’d been seated in the front section. It was all so very long ago; I cannot tell you who I’d arrived with, but I can tell you that the man I left with that evening would become my lover for a decade and counting.
The year was 2010 and the hotel lobby was packed with the usual crew of glamorous guests and select local New Yorkers given access to this exclusive watering hole.
Music never plays in lobby, making it the ideal spot for an intimate business meeting, catching up with good friends or in this case, meeting the man who would rock my sex life for the foreseeable future. (If you’ve been you’ll know its also a great place to rub elbows with a celeb or two).
His hair was longish, you know, that perfect length and texture where it’s not quite falling in his eyes, but long enough that all you can think about is running your hands through it.
Hours of flirtatious banter ended with the two of us at my East Village studio, savagely making out and smoking pot. The way his tongue entered my mouth made me ache to feel it between my legs. Our chemistry was instant and growing stronger by the minute. He took his time with me, running his hands down my neck and shoulders, kissing my throat and breasts.
All that champagne coupled with 10 years of time passed leaves me hazy on the full details of what transpired, however I’m pretty sure we didn’t sleep together at my place; instead we ended up taking a taxi across Manhattan to his townhouse in the West Village. To say his place was a bit more lux than mine would be the understatement of the century. This was PRIME New York real estate.
His design taste was impeccable (it still is) and I could not wait for him to fuck me in front of the giant floor to ceiling 19th century mirrors that faced each other. The dark, open concept main floor became sexier as I took in all the details. “Damn,” I couldn’t help but think, “This man is hot, intelligent, with next level style… Yes please.”
We lit up a freshly rolled joint; as I inhaled the smoke he stood behind kissing the back of my neck. He lifted the straps of my dress from my shoulders and watched as it dropped to the floor exposing my fully naked body. “I love that you don’t wear underwear,” he whispered as he kissed my ear. Reaching between my legs he stroked me to feel how wet I was. Taking the joint from my lips he took a drag, placed it in the ashtray and led me to the sofa. We spent hours devouring each other every which way; getting higher and cumming over and over. I was 5 orgasms deep and we hadn’t left the living room.
As I sat in the taxi at 5:30 AM recounting all the blissful, passionate moments and I knew I’d be seeing him again soon. Back then it wasn’t clear exactly what I was getting myself into; how often and for how long we would play would become more clear as time passed.
It always seemed like there were at least 3 lovers on the go. Because of this, I used nicknames to keep my lovers straight when discussing them with friends. These are the very same nicknames I use in the blog. The only problem? He never had a nickname. Of all the people, in all the years, my friends only knew him by his first name… Let’s call him Edward.
The One
I’ve never wanted to be locked down before but with him it’s undeniable. My heart is engulfed in his darkness. Wild, crazy and open. To be locked down with him is to truly be free.
The thought of his touch electrifies every cell in my being.
The space and time between us is vast but also nonexistent. This connection runs deep and my mind goes to those future places where we are together. Properly together.
That first touch, our first kiss.
As he said, “It will be a million microseconds being pulled together at once, like tiny shards of metal hopeless to their magnetic nucleus; causing a large energetic whole - where time stands no chance against the physics”.
He is poetic and passionate, dark and intense and oh so fucking beautiful. My heart sinks deeper in pleasure with each song he sends, with each photo of his gorgeous body and handsome face I receive.A snippet of artful delight lands on my phone screen as we exchange erotic art sexts; the depth of my desire increases.
I’ve never wanted to be locked down before but with him it’s undeniable. My heart is engulfed in his darkness. Wild, crazy and open. To be locked down with him is to truly be free.
I’ve never met someone who loved me for me. They loved the idea of me, but when the cards are on the table and there are no chips left to play, it’s too much, I’m too much.
He is different. He is strong like me, smart like me, dark like me. Even if we are never together, he will always be the one.
