Friday, July 17, 2009

The Poet...

During a text message conversation with The Poet the conversation turned to safe words.

He asked if we might need a safe word. I tossed out "police", which he thought was too scary. He tossed out "Darwin", which was endearing. But something about using an idols name as a safe word seems just... wrong.

We finally settled on "Leviticus". Sobering, and something that should turn us both off pretty quickly. And certainly something I don't scream too often, even in my everyday life.

The Poet: So when can we Play? :-)

The Poet is a very new acquisition to the party. An attempt to upgrade the sex I am losing with The Dragon's departure, while keeping the drama of a real relationship out of my life.

We met, and instantly there were cognitive fireworks. The man can keep up with me. In some arenas he can run circles around me. He corrects my grammar. He beats me at Scrabble. His approach to religion reflects my own perfectly. He understands the importance of standing up for social justice issues.

And The Poet is HOT. In that big-fuzzy-metalhead-with-tattoos-and-piercings sort of way. He makes me feel warm and tingly in that way that only a man who stands 6'3" and could toss me around like a rag doll in bed is able to.

He also is in an "open relationship". Which is a plus, in that I know he isn't going to be crazy possessive of me. However... Although their relationship is "open" it is an odd open where it is more like they have given one another tacit permission to cheat. Which could be drama down the road.

The Poet came over last night. My roommate worked at ten, so we were playing scrabble. I am a moaner. A screamer. And having a first tryst when a roommate is nearby seems poorly planned. But the air was certainly weighed down with intention.

Until his cellphone started vibrating. A friend was having problems, and needed his assistance. Ten minutes after roommate leaves for work, he has to go. We are sitting on the couch. He reaches over, pulls me across his lap. His hands searching, hungry. His breath hot against my neck. Arms pulling me closer, as if he wants to absorb my small frame into his chest.

My body is ready instantly. Trembling. Wet.

And then he gets up, and goes. As a good friend would. But... god damn.

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