Revisiting You

27 Oct

Dear Mr. Hottie,

“Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.” -Anon

Well,  I seem to be in the habit of revisiting men.  And I have to say, I definitely don’t mind revisiting you.  We have been talking, a lot.  You did eventually let me know that you were no longer going to be a dad.  I am sure I knew what that meant, I didn’t need to ask for clarification.  It wasn’t my business.  I let it go.

We continued to converse often.  Last week I wound up in the emergency room due to a hellacious migraine.  One I was trying to ignore for the previous week…one I had let go too long.  I had called you, asked if you could come pick me up from the hospital.  You couldn’t, and you felt horrible about it.  I told you if you felt that guilty, you could come over later.  Bring me beer, give me a neck massage, and snuggle with me on the couch. You laughed, and said it sounded like a plan.

We both knew what would happen when you came over.  It had been 8 weeks since we had been alone in a room together, but I knew none of that sexual energy had dissipated.  I cleaned up some, put on a tank top that showed adequate cleavage and lounge pants.  Put my hair in pigtails (because that drives you crazy) and waited for your arrival.

You almost didn’t come.  At nine o’clock, you text messaged me and told me you were still caught up at work.  You were contemplating staying late, getting as much done as you can.  I knew I was going to have to play hard ball if I was going to get you over here.  I wasn’t going to back down.  I was looking forward to it, and I was going to get it.

My text:  Are you really turning me down? Lame…I even shaved and everything…your loss

Your text:  Did you shave it all?

My text:  Just for you

Your text:  I think I will be filling your hole tonight 😉

Score for me.

An hour later my doorbell rings.  I go answer, after fluffing up my breasts in the hallway.  The sight that beholds me makes my breath catch in my throat.  I had forgotten how completely gorgeous you are.  You were propped up against the side of the door jamb, one leg crossed over the other very casually, looking like you just stepped out of the pages of GQ.  I let you in and lead you back to my bedroom.  Damn girl, you say.  Not even a hello?  Ha, I retort.  I am all moved in now.  I have a TV in my room and everything.

We sat on my bed, had a few beers, watched some TV.  We caught up on the last 8 weeks.  We talked about everything, nothing was off-limits.  All the while, there was some serious eye-fucking going on.  But we held off.  We continued talking.  I asked you something I had wanted to ask any guy who knew me.  We were always honest with each other, and I knew you would be honest now.

Me:  Mr. Hottie, can I ask you something?  Serious answer, here.

You:  Sure.  You know you can ask me anything.

Me:  How come I am so awesome, pretty, amazing, wonderful, anything any guy could ever want…but I keep getting left for other women?

You:  I never left you for another woman, Esme. (you said as you stroked my face)  It was just some seriously bad circumstances.

Me:  No, I know that.  But it is like guys don’t want a girl who can be their lover, and their best friend.

You:  I don’t know.  You are all those things.  The men that left you are douchebags.  They didn’t appreciate what they had.

I smiled.  I do love the relationship we have.  It is so comfortable.  So honest.  So refreshing.  We both get what we want, and we both have no expectations.  We can sit and converse for hours.  Or we can go watch the ballgame at the bar.  Or we can get down and dirty for a couple of hours.  Neither one of us has any feelings other than friendship for each other.

You finally stood up, took off your fleece zip-up, and settled yourself between my legs.  I leaned back against the pile of pillows I had gathered at the head of my bed and smiled.  You want it, don’t you? You asked me.  I nodded my head, unable to answer.  Oh God, I loved your dominating nature in bed.  I loved the way you can render my mind completely useless.  I loved the reaction my body had to your nearness.  You rained kisses on my face, trailed down my neck.  Your fingers expertly touched all the right spots, remembering where to go.  You were taking your time, not moving fast enough for me.  I pulled your hair.  I raised my hips to meet yours, and you just chuckled at me.  Easy Esme, you said.  We have all night.  Let’s just enjoy this…

You did not disappoint me.  All I had to do was lay back and enjoy what you had to offer.  You brought me over the edge so many times, I was thoroughly spent by the time you were done.  I couldn’t form one coherent thought.  You kept asking questions, trying to have a conversation, and all I could do was say “what?”.

As I started to come down from my high, I turned to you and demanded to know why it had been 8 weeks since we have had sex.  You again chuckled (which is damn sexy, by the way), kissed the bridge of my nose, and said you have been busy.  I sighed as I watched you get up and get dressed.  I got dressed and walked you to the door.  You gave me a lingering hug, an ass grab, and a very hot kiss.  You assured me it wouldn’t be so long next time.

And it wasn’t…

Love, Esme


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