In the mood…

…..not really.  Which is an oddity in itself.  I’m pretty much always in the mood which is why I have such a naughty sense of humor.  It’s Thursday and apparently I need to do some Thinking.

I’ve been flirting with someone new for just over a month now.  He’s definitely long distance, about 600 miles away.  Distance is just a circumstance.  That I would need a passport to go that far North, just a circumstance.  Him being 9 years younger than me, yet another circumstance.

None of those things would define a relationship.  Place certain conditions on a relationship, maybe, but not define it.  So why is it I was in no mood to flirt with him last night?  I can name that tune in one note: trust.

There is a certain amount of trust required for any kind of relationship.  Even just as casual friends people need to be able to trust that the other person won’t hurt them, lie to them, stalk them.

Having met my ex online, and 12 years later caught him with another woman online, I’m a bit familiar with the whole concept of being someone you’re not when you’re online.  It’s easy to talk to someone who’s not looking you in the eye.  It’s easy to tell them what they want to hear, talk for hours and not really say anything, keep them around for company because you don’t have anyone else to talk to.

But what do you do when you realize they are for real?  Yes, I would actually consider crossing the border to meet him.  I won’t say I’d do anything for love, but I’d damn sure consider it.  Lately, though, I’m not so sure.

You see, he doesn’t trust me.  I know a few things about him, personal stuff, family stuff, work stuff.  My stuff?  I’m an open book.  But he’s becoming less open with information.  Even as friends you have to talk and exchange details about yourselves to get to know one another.  You have to trust me.

Knowing that trust is not there is a real buzz kill.  Believe me, he’s got a sexy smile and a nice voice, and he’s not afraid to be silly.  But it takes more than that to keep my attention.  I’m drawn to intelligence, humor, confidence, honesty.

Okay, maybe he really is working 12 hour days.  I don’t need constant attention, but don’t make me feel like you’re hiding something from me.  I do try to give the benefit of the doubt in most cases.  But that only goes so far.

Trust is a two-way street.  I won’t stick around to be convenient.  If you want me, you have to show some effort.  You have to give a little.  You have to trust me.

It’s more of a turn-on than I realized…

Just a Taste

Why is it every time I see you I have to taste you?  What is it about your kiss that I crave?  Is it your cigarette, the lingering flavor of what you drink, the hint of darkness just beneath your surface?  I’m never quite sure why.  I only know I want more….

Wake me before you go…

I’m dreaming again.  The same dream I’ve had for a week.  You keep coming to me in my dreams but your reality is so far away.  I feel almost awake, aware of every touch, every scent, every sound.

I feel the covers slide over me as you move, pulling my hands over my head.  The ropes are already hanging from the headboard.  Once again you bind my hands, not enough for injury but securely restrained.

I can’t see anything… That’s new to the dream.  You’ve blindfolded me.  I’m not really panicked.  This is just a dream, right?  My breathing quickens anyway.  You whisper in my ear, calming my fears but exciting me at the same time.

I feel you move above me, straddling my hips.  You get harder with each touch.  Your hands tease, tracing every curve, molding the sheet to my skin.

The dream is almost over.  I know what’s next but I’m not ready for you to leave.  Just one more kiss before the alarm chases you away.  I try to move, will you to come close again.

You lean closer.  I feel your breath on my face.  I always whisper to you in the dream.  “Stay, or wake me before you go.”

The crowing rooster alarm rips through the morning.  I struggle to open my eyes so I can kill the bird.  All I see is black.  I try to move but my hands are bound above my head.

Your laugh is like a low growl sending shivers across my skin.

“You said for me to wake you…”

Tempted

My car keys are staring at me, daring me to pick them up.  I’ve already googled directions.  Would have to throw a few things in a bag.  No need for too many clothes.  Doubtful we would make it out of the hotel room.

Your picture is taunting me, too.  Want to feel your skin on mine, taste your kisses.  Got to have your hands on me, watch you smile as I touch you.

You’re on cam again, tempting me with that “Come here” look in your eyes.  My pulse races at the thought of it.  Anticipation would be killer with the long drive.  We might manage to say Hello before we tear each other’s clothes off.

I filled the gas tank already.  The keys keep staring at me….

Help Wanted

I wake up alone.  The house still smells like the beer spilled during the game last night.  I can hear you whistling.  I drag on one of your shirts and go in search of you.

You’re in the middle of the living room putting trash in a large plastic bag.  I can’t help but stare.  A black bandana on your head, bare chest, sweats sitting low on your hips and a black and white apron that resembles a tool belt.

Every move you make reminds me of how you touch me, your hands on my skin, your arms around me, the nail marks down your back.  My mouth waters at the thought of tasting what’s under that apron.

I can’t decide if I want to help you clean so it’s done faster, or make more of a mess so I can watch you some more.  To hell with it!

I step up behind you and put my hands on your hips.  My lips leave a trail across your back as I pull you closer to me, slide my hands under the edge of your sweats and follow the curve of your hip forward.  Your moan drowns out the bag hitting the floor.  You’re already hard.

“Nice apron.”

Afternoon Delight

It’s been a lazy afternoon, too quiet though.  If you were watching the game with me it would be much more interesting.  I keep getting distracted thinking of your hands on my skin, the taste of your kiss, the ache that’s only eased when you slide inside of me….

Oh, look!  Somebody scored!

Peek-A-Boo….

I see you…

Your cam is on again.  I can’t help but look.  You’re too far away to touch, but I have to see you.  The mic is open, too.  I can hear each breath, every moan.

You’re face is all I see at first, but I know what you’re doing off-screen.  I know you’re looking at the pictures I sent you.  And you’re looking at my cam.  I smile again when you move back, showing me more of you.

We trade short messages, weaving a story of heat, desire, lust.  The distance between us is not enough to cure the craving, the ache for your touch.

Until we can bridge that gap….. you’re cam or mine?

Room Service

I haven’t bothered unpacking anything for the week, too anxious for your arrival.  I check my hair in the mirror, strike a pose and laugh at myself.  Need music to calm down a bit.  The clock radio will have to do.

…knock, knock, knock…

I check the peephole to see room service with an armful of flowers.  I open the door and the woman sets them in front of the mirror.  She hands me the card.

These won’t smell as sweet as you…

I bury my nose in the blood-red roses.  Intoxicating, but not as much as your cologne.  I take the letter you sent me from my bag just to smell it again, every word memorized.

…knock, knock, knock…

I check the door.  Room service again.  A young man this time carrying a basket with Canadian beer, bottled water, snack food.  He hands me a card and leaves.

Something for later.  Can’t wait to taste you…

My pulse races at the thought.  We’ve spent weeks planning this trip, anticipation killing us both.  I fight the urge to call you, ask how close you are.

…knock, knock, knock…

Once more to the door.  Bright eyes smiling back at me.  I try not to rip the door off its hinges as I open it and smile back.  I let you in, watch you drop your bag next to mine.  I’m leaning back against the door just enjoying the sight of you.

You look up to see me watching, walk back to me, stop just shy of touching.  I’m surprised sparks are not flying in the small space between us.  Just when the air gets too thick to breathe I grab the front of your shirt and pull you into me.

The first kiss is always the hungriest, lips and tongues fighting for more contact.  Your arms wrap around me, pulling me closer, tracing every curve.  I can feel your heart racing, hear your sigh as I run my hands over your beard.  You move your kisses to my neck, making me shiver, wanting skin.  You raise your head and we both take a deep breath.

Hello there…

Road Trip

“When will you be here?”

“Soon”

Traffic will slow you down but I know you’re coming to me.  I still have time for a soak in the tub, vanilla and lavender to scent the room.  I’ll be buried in bubbles when you come in.  The thought of your kiss is enough to make me ache.  Steam starts to fill the room as I trail my hands where I want your lips.  I slide into the water wishing you were sliding into me already, your hands tracing every curve.  I dial your number one last time.

“Hurry….”

Yes or No

Is it yes or no? Will you or won’t you?

I have a friend (a guy, go figure) who says the answer to any problem is more sex.  On the surface of the comment I tend to agree.  Probably one of several reasons some of my friends say I should have been born a guy.  But is sex really the answer?

Not if it gets taken for granted.  Sex has a lot of emotions attached to it, even for men.  They would eat their gym shoes before admitting it, even to themselves.  Pheromones aside, physical contact is a very powerful thing.  And all the associated feelings are just as powerful.

Can you have sex with someone you’re not in love with? Yes.  Can you be in love with someone and never have sex? Yes.  Can you get so comfortable with a casual relationship that you just assume the other person will always be there when it’s convenient?  Yes.  Are any of these things healthy mile markers on the road to a happy relationship? No.

Who are you with? Why are you with them?  Is it a healthy relationship?  It’s very important to know the answers to these questions.  Sometimes it’s not as clear-cut as Yes or No…..