
There are things that happen in life that are like lines in the sand. Moments that you know that everything that comes after will be different because of this experience. It happened to me when my work crush invited me to lunch.
It was as unexpected as it was unplanned. He liked to put me on the spot. We liked to flirt with each other. I enjoyed making him think and try to read between the lines. He enjoyed seeing me squirm in my discomfort of the undeniable honesty he effortlessly pulled from my soul.
Away from the listening walls of our office, he asked what I wanted. I was not sure if I should apologize for my wantonness or tell him the truth. A curiosity about how deep our friendship could run mixed with a lusty want to feel his touch and know his body.
Should I tell him that he fixed something in me by just being in the room? What would he think if he knew I thought of him when I dressed in the morning and prayed that we would bump into each other in the office kitchen?
What would he think of me if he knew the scent of his cologne set everything in me on fire? How could I ever explain the things his gorgeous hands had done to me in my dreams?
Would he care that I longed to hold him in my arms? Would he ever allow my heart to be a safe harbor for his own?
I did not know that what I wanted was even possible.
Social norms and traditional relationships would render any sort of desired outcome a fling, an affair, or some other doomed clandestine connection. Was it worth the possibility of destroying the friendship we had started with that poor prognosis for an outcome?
My quivering voice found just an ounce of courage to ask for — or at least strongly hint at — a desire that had been building in me. As it turns out, I was not alone in my desire. And to learn that we both were in open marriages so there was real potential blew my mind.
The energy between us was palatable and it took everything in me to keep my hands to myself as we returned to the office after discovering our shared secret lifestyles. It was a business lunch after all. Clenching my hands into a fist and summoning all my willpower to keep from reaching across to caress his gorgeous thigh was almost painful. I have no recall of what we chatted about heading back to the office. My only thought was “He didn’t say no!” and the hurricane-force swirl of all the possibilities that a “Yes!” could hold.
We walked back from the garage together into our office building. He came to my office to gather some things he had left from our pre-lunch meeting. I closed the door behind him.
Standing inches apart, he flashed that devilish smile and said, “May I kiss you?” I simply nodded and stepped for the first time into his powerful embrace.
There have been other first kisses but there is nothing in my memory that compares to the bolt of electricity connecting our bodies at that moment. Just the recall makes me quiver.
Passion, desire, need, lust… I have no idea how long we made out. Time stands still when our bodies connect even now. I did not think it could be possible to ever replicate the intensity of that experience.
And I was wrong!
It has been almost two years since that afternoon of traded secrets and lusty making out. There has been a pandemic, lockdowns, travel restrictions, vaccines, broken dishwashers, new kitchens, a new president, civil unrest, the death of a beloved kitty, a new puppy, a pair of new kitties, challenges at work, challenges at home, trips, vacations, holidays.
There have been initiatives at work, jobs that weren’t meant to be, shifts in friendships and family dynamics, a return to travel, and new virus strains. A writing career has been born and a new sport discovered. That’s just the highlights and lowlights.
Through all of it — he still makes me quiver.
Those intense blue eyes, that soothing voice that melts me, that gorgeous body — (there could be whole writing about the first time I had the privilege of seeing him undressed) — those strong hands — that brilliant mind — and that incredible, vulnerable, courageous heart… He is my complete undoing.
Two years later, he walks into a room — any room — and my heart still skips a beat. The electricity that he ignites in my body with just a touch and a kiss sends me into an inferno. He can bring my mind completely to rest as he dominates me and he sets my heart free when he submits to me.
We have discovered delicious chemistry in our marathon play session and opened whole new ways of loving and connecting for each of us. Together we have created an amazing set of playlists and built a pretty impressive toy bag and lube kit along the way.
Two years later, I am stronger, healthier, more confident, and more beautiful than I have ever been. He has helped me uncover and heal parts of me I lost long ago. With our love, he has found acceptance and grace to love all that he is — even the places he rarely shared.
We have both grown in our understanding of ourselves and each other. It feels like he knows me better than I know me sometimes. The care and intention that he gives to protect my heart have been a gift that I will never be able to repay. He has shown me what it is to be loved.
Two years ago, there was a decision and we chose to be honest with each other. Many hours of shared conversations and ponderings in solitude have built what we share today. It all remains built on the foundation of honesty.
This deeply connected love we share feels as old as the ages like we have known each other since our souls were formed — and yet, he still makes me quiver. And to be honest, I have never been happier and more fulfilled.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Dainis Graveris on Unsplash
White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism
Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box
The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer
