Inching closer. (Part three)

The next installment. Very odd to be relaying the events of a week and a half ago as if they just happened when so much has occurred in the interim.

  • August 16th. Thursday B came over at 5:30. I had cut some of my own bell pepper and broccoli and was making a stir fry. It actually felt a bit weird and formal, him arriving for dinner and me in the middle of chopping vegetables. We didn’t kiss or hug in greeting, and that’s something I want to be comfortable with. I don’t want to feel like I have to work up to kissing him still, not when I’m preparing to sleep with him. After dinner we made out on the couch until it was time to leave. We were off to see a play billed as a “sexy comedy,” and it certainly lived up to that description. =) B and I held hands/caressed palms the whole time, and that’s just a lovely experience. When we were driving back from the play, he asked, “Where to?” and I let him decide. I had put a toothbrush in my bag just in case we ended up back at his place, and that is indeed where we ended up.

Shirts came off right away. Then the belt came off. At some point he asked, “Do you want to take off my pants?” and I said, “No, but you can take them off.” (I’m not sure if his question was asking me if it’s okay if he’s pants-less or his way of letting me know he’d really like it if I undressed him. My guess is both, but mostly the latter.) I’d already let him know that my pants were staying on. Once his were off, I wondered if he expected me to get right to it, pick up where we left off in our progression. We were making out, and I wondered if I was supposed to reach down between us and interrupt his movements. In the end, I didn’t, and couldn’t bring myself to ask what he wanted either. He didn’t say anything or do anything to encourage me in that direction, and eventually we fell asleep, our arms across each other.

  • August 17th. On Friday we stayed in bed all day. I used to wonder how doing this with another person was possible. I knew that I enjoyed lazing in bed all day, but was it possible for me to feel really relaxed with another person in my immediate space for so long? It turns out–to my surprise and delight–that it’s easy. And not only easy, but really pleasant. Late in the morning, I got up to brush my teeth and hair and apply deodorant, and when I returned, B was lying there reading a Soviet cookbook. Really interesting–we learned that there are seven steps to drinking vodka properly. It was 1pm before we even thought about getting up, and 3:30 before we finally did. B made us a plate of snacks, and I sat shirtless at the table, paging through a book on the history of food.

Back in bed, I knew I wanted to talk about sex, to talk about getting tested, but it wasn’t easy to bring up. Every time I opened my mouth my stomach tightened. It was very obvious to B that I was trying to say something. Eventually I managed, mentioning my doctor’s appointment and saying, “I’m supposed to ask you if you’ve ever been tested.” He said no. I didn’t quite know what to say next. Honestly, I thought he’d say, “No, but I’ve only been with one person.” But it was just ‘no.’ Then he said, “So I’m getting tested?” And, relieved, I said yes. We talked about birth control, and I don’t remember what it was exactly, but something led him to say, “So you don’t like any of the girl ones?” I didn’t want him to feel like I’m making him do all these things and sitting back with all the power. I let him know that I’d been on the pill for a long time, but have been off it for a little over a year. I’d just looked into the shot, which sounded great until you got to all the possible side effects. I told him I’d do more research. We talked condoms and when I asked him if he had a preference (of type, not of use in general) he said no. And that was it–our first official talk about (planning to have) sex.

Somewhere in our conversation, it became clear that he had indeed hoped that I’d take matters into my own hands, so to speak. I told him again that I need direction, that I need him to tell me or show me what he wants. (It still feels a bit like I’m trespassing. I suppose I should assume that I just have an open invitation, that I’m welcome anytime.) I think he said again that he just wants me to do what I want, which doesn’t help. (Maybe if he moved my hand there himself, he’d feel like he was making me do it?) To stop us going in circles about it I said, “If you want me to do something, put my hand somewhere, you’re going to have to take my hand and show me. I can’t read your mind.” He said okay. We’ll see how often this variation on a theme features in our conversation.

We lounged in bed talking, limbs over each other, until 7pm when B finally said, ‘I think I should take you home before it gets dark.’ And so it was that I discovered I could enjoy myself and feel relaxed and good while spending all day in the company of a man.


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