I Think I’m in Love Again

Vibrating off my sugar walls created the ultimate warm embrace. My juices produced a liquid so slick his dick pulsated. Skin to skin—side to side—the sweat glided down my thighs. The lust was long lasting. Chest to chest—he caressed my ass. 

I wished this moment would last forever. We bounced back and forth, gyrating to the flickering candle-light. Yeah, that was me getting dick at night until the twilight. 
Pillow talk and glasses of red wine enhanced my romance. We discussed our dreams and fears. Our relationship developed and transitioned faster than Twitter. Comments can be bitter. But “friends” who have no idea what goes on behind my smile attempted to turn mine upside down. 
“You need to have a discussion about the state of your relationship,” my friend said. 
“Um, we don’t. Not everything has to be discussed,” I said. “And I’m not here for your judgment. Let’s talk about your long distance boyfriend and him not fucking you.” 
I was nasty. Not my intention. I’m tired of discussing my fucking relationship. I’m going to let it go like Frozen and let God like Moses. But I will say that I’m content. 
I get lonely at times. Although that has nothing to do with him, I craved independence. Binging on books and not blow jobs should feed me more. I sometimes prefer blowouts but not in this humidity. 
The next day on Sunday morning, I expected him to get ready for church without me. We agreed that Sunday was his day to replenish his soul. 
I laid there watching him try on tight jeans, tees and an iridescent suit from the 80’s with pleats and pinstripes. 
He sat in the wooden chair next to his bedroom door wearing blue boxers. “I want to see my kids,” he said before dialing his son, who said they were going to church in Virginia. But his daughter texted him photos of them lounging in pajamas. 
“If I would have gone to the hotel last night, I would be closer to their church today,” he said.  
“Really baby,” I said. “A hotel?” 
Not while facing court for an eviction next week. It wasn’t wise to spend that kind of money in a night. And I’m like the Queen of the night, living in the moment. But this time I disagreed. 
He threw his iPhone on the floor when his call ended. I leaped off the bed and picked it up and plugged in the charger. 
“They have something to do today,” he said. “So, I won’t see them.”
“I’m sorry to hear that baby.”
“Aww…fuck it,” he said. “I’m going to the mall.” 
He returned three hours later with a flatscreen TV, a DVD player, DVDs, an iron, and groceries.
“Baby, don’t worry,” he said. “It’s all returnable.” 
“I hear that,” I said.
We went through the routine process of moving the old things out the way to make room for the new. What will happen when the inspector comes over tomorrow? 
But I didn’t question him. I embraced the moment. We watched Boo! A Madea Halloween. We laughed like children, slapping out thighs and falling into the pile of pillows.
We ordered dinner from our favorite Italian restaurant. I love eating pasta naked in bed. He says I’m on that Oprah diet, indulging in tacos, pasta, and chips. But I love chips! 
He fell asleep again, snoring in my ear with his arm around me.
The next morning, he redecorated the room as if the sole purpose of the inspection was to impress her with his interior design skills. She checked for mold and mice. 
“When will she be here?” I asked. 
“I don’t know let me call and find out,” he said while walking out the room. 
He revealed that she will arrive in a two-hour window between 12 and 2 pm. 
“So you need to be out of here by 11:45,” he said. “Want me to get you a ride?” 
“Yeah that’s fine,” I said. “But I wanted to take my bird bath.”
His water was off, so I carried hot boiling water from the stove to the tub like a slave. I splashed myself clean. I wrapped a blue and white stripe towel around me like a sarong.
 I stole kiss. 
“Baby, it’s going to be ok,” I said. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” he said before slapping my ass, signaling me to leave. 

Walter Reed is a writer, blogger, sexpert, sex columnist and gay dating advice guru. His work has been published in Washington Post, Huffington Post and here at www.LoveWalter.com Please like, comment and share.

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