Lately I’ve been acting more like a teenager with a crush than grown woman with a job, an important job. Work? Right. I took the week off and spent 3 days straight in Lance’s apartment.
My friends all know that its easier for me to express what I’m feeling with a song lyric so this is my life, as captured by Ms. Badu
Like a wave I am free Going places, being things I wanna be Settle down, is oh so hard But I will grant you that one chance So pick the right card And don’t miss it, take your time You’ve only got one chance
In my last entry , I told you about our reunion. At dinner he told me he wanted to explore other options and I nearly spit out my wine. First of all, not slick. The only thing Lance is trying to explore is me. And I don’t mind. The morning after that date he was still sleep when I first woke. I nodded off and woke up again as he was stepping into his pants. I asked him if he was heading home. No. He was going to grab us breakfast. It was crazy de ja vous. He remembered that there’s nothing I like better in the morning than a quickie black coffee (no cream) and a croissant. It was a nice gesture.
I think we were both trying to play it cool on the first date but that got old fast. I don’t know. It really did feel like we just picked up where we left off all those years ago.
So Sunday night I was prepared for work that evening. Actually, I was about to get in bed when he called me. He’d met up with an old buddy and was in the neighborhood….right. But in spite of my eight hour beauty sleep requirement, I invited him over. He slipped into bed with me and watched a movie on TCM. He’s such an old man. He had his arms wrapped around me and any time I shifted kissed me, brushed me shoulder, and looked down as if to make sure I was comfortable. I so was. It’s the difference between sex and intimacy. I’ll finally admit that I’ve been indulging in one, neglecting the other. We actually stayed up catching up until about 3 AM. And then, tired to the point that we were slurring our words and forgetting our thought mid-sentence, we stopped beating around the bush. We had sleepy sex, but it was good no less and woke up later than I planned. Lance and I began kissing and his warm body felt so good next to mine, I suddenly felt sick. At least that’s what I told my boss.
Hell, I was suffering and I needed Dr. Feel Good to take care of me. He did. We ended up shifting our rendezvous to his place. It was barely furnished, but he has a wonderful sleigh bed and the entertainment system, which of course was the first thing he set up, so we were good. I’m going to need for him to get some plates though. I bought an over night bag with one change of clothes in it. So when one night stay turned into a two, and then a three… I wore his sweat shirts with my stretch pants, when we weren’t in the nude.=
For now it’s off to Paris, the city of romance, but I’m leaving my romance at home. Bittersweet.
Ayesha is a writer, dancer, and the founder of WomenLovePower.com, a tech-enabled brand that provides resources on charm, seduction, sacred sexuality, and feminine warfare. A self-confessed afromantic, Ayesha's first love is romantic fiction and poetry. When away from her keyboard, she enjoys New Jack Swing throwbacks, 90's sitcoms, running, sleep, and Cabernet.
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