The Saga Part II

Okay!  So, we went back to his house after dropping the T.V. off.  But, in order to best finish telling this story, I need to really explain how our “being together” usually goes:  When I'm with him, I ALWAYS have to follow his lead.  We’re (almost always at his house…in his domain…his castle.)  He usually always distracts himself with SOMEthing (football, some other tv show, cooking, paperwork, eating, playing solitaire on the computer, taking care of all the people knocking on his door asking for stuff….)  When I walk in the door, he usually greets me with a hug and a smile.  I always feel like an awkward little girl, then….  Sometimes, he’ll turn the light on… “Lemme see your pretty face…. There’s my baby!”  and, with his beautiful smile beaming off the walls…that smile just kills me.  Anyhow, by the time I have my shoes off, I can usually gauge his mood and how he “expects” me to respond to him.  Sometimes, I literally just walk straight over to my seat on the couch.  He has this sectional couch…Two sections of it are actually recliners, attached by a little arm-rest-table section.  Our seats are on opposite sides of this arm rest section…. meaning, I can never sit right next to him cuz he’s always in his seat, if he’s sitting in the living room with me.  If I want to be close to him, without that TABLE THING dividing us, I have to get on my knees and put my head in his lap (which he RARELY lets me do) or sit right on his lap (which he allows even more infrequently.) Most of our time is spent in the living room or the kitchen.  In the kitchen, since I have more freedom to move and he is more physically accessible, I can sometimes squeeze some touching in….a brief hug, grabbing his ***, “accidentally” brushing against him.  Sometimes, if I feel like he’s okay with it, I’ll just wrap my arms around his neck and hang on him, nestling my nose into the crook of his neck until he says, “Okay, that’s enough,” or something like that. But, for the most part, (the whole point is that) I can't get (physically) close to him unless he's initiated it.  (When I do try to cuddle with or hug him, he usually pushes me away...like he can't stand being touched, or something.)  I've NEVER initiated sex with him...well, I've tried but, he won't have it.  Going to bed seems to be a major production because there are no barriers when we get in that room.  It’s just us and all our luscious skin under the covers.  We don’t have sex that often but, when we go in that room, we’re usually down to skin.  It’s like we fight with ourselves and each other all day long (sometimes, for days) to avoid real contact and we secretly and silently have been waiting for the moment when we walk into that room.  He usually sends me in there first, like he needs more preparation, or something.  But, when we're in bed watching t.v. or falling asleep, I’m “allowed” to be affectionate with him.  In fact, that’s the only real time when I feel like I can reach out and touch him…with my special touch, filled with so much love…he (almost) never stops me.  Half the time, I don’t know if he’s asleep or awake but, I just relish the feel of his skin beneath my fingertips, or gently brushing against the underside of my forearm while I reach up to play with his earlobes….that’s the closest he usually lets me get to his face. No face touching.  No penis touching.  I’ve tried to touch his “weenis” without invitation before…he acts like it actually offends him; makes him feel violated, or something.  The bottom line is that CLEARLY he has HUGE intimacy issues.  I mean, not like I don’t have intimacy issues.  Mine are just a little easier to hide than his, or I’m better at it.  At any rate, while dealing with him, it’d be SUPER easy to hide all my issues behind his.  But, that would be unproductive.  Like I mentioned in the first part of this story, I felt a new sense of intimacy with him on our way to buy my new t.v.  and, it made me uncomfortable.

That  night got more intimate than I would have EVER expected it to and I still don’t really know how to respond to it, like two weeks later! 

After dropping the t.v. at my house, we went back to his house and, pretty much, just started getting ready for bed.  I took a bath, first.  (He prefers to take baths alone, if he takes them, cuz he always feels so dirty.)  Like usual, I took my nice, relaxing HOT bath then got in bed to wait for him.  I left him the water (my water wasn’t dirty, since I just soaked in bubble bath.)  When he gets in the tub, he usually calls me out of bed to get him a drink or add something to his bath water.  It'd been a couple weeks, at this point, since I'd said I was not gonna drink gin anymore.  While in the tub, he asked me to fix him a drink.  (The drink-making was a matter of trial and error.  He never told me exactly how I should fix it for him.  He would let me make it how I thought it should be made then tell me if it was too strong or too weak.  Over time, I learned how to make the “correct” drink, which changes with his moods.)  Before I left the bathroom, though, he actually asked me for a KISS!  I was wrapped up in a towel, totally straight and completely caught off-guard!  A kiss?!?  I almost refused but couldn’t.  I love to kiss.  And, he’s a great kisser but, it only happens once in a blue moon and then it’s usually some sweet little peck on the cheek, forehead and sometimes lips.  Mmmmm!  He gave me the yummiest tongue kiss!!   I floated off to the kitchen, still swooning but still acutely aware of how intimate he was being with me.  I handed him his drink while he soaked in the tub with the jets bubbling, then walked into the bedroom and took off the towel to get back in bed.  “C’mere,” he said from the tub.  “Gimme another kiss.”  Instantly, I figured the reason he wanted to kiss me was to check my breath before and after I’d made his drink…to see if I’d snuck and took a sip of his gin.  (Which, I didn’t.)  I thought to myself, “Okay…he’s gonna let me kiss him again??  I’m gonna make sure I kiss the **** outta him!  I’ll show him how I can beat him at his little game!”  I was scared to death but, decided to purposely walk back into the bathroom without the towel on.  Beautifully butt-naked, I confidently glided back into the bathroom and, real s-l-o-w-l-y, bent over the bath tub.  My little boobies were sagging in between us but, I was only mildly embarrassed.  Mostly, I just felt all seductive and beautiful and confident.  I don’t know where the confidence came from but, I gave him the kiss of a lifetime.  As my face approached his, I made a comment about the breath-testing thing.  With a sexy, devious little smile, I said, “Ohhhhh.  You wanna see if I tasted your gin?  Okay….taste this….”  And THEN the luscious kiss came.  And, he felt it.  He rested his head against the wall and just stared at me in disbelief as I raised my naked body and walked away from him.

By the time I made it back to the bed, I was really wet and not from the tub water.  I still felt uncomfortable about the intimacy but was beginning to feel really warm and cozy.

It wasn’t long before he called me back into the bathroom…a few times…for various silly things.  Finally, I sat down on the toilet cuz he wanted to talk to me…and we had the best, maybe the first REAL conversation we’ve ever had.  He was feeling relaxed from the gin and the hot bath, all laid back, totally relaxing.  I brought my weed and pipe into the bathroom and packed it while I sat cross-legged on the toilet, now back in the towel.  Out of the blue, Nicky looked me in the eye across the bathroom and said, “I miss Ron.”  “Aww?” I whined, with raised eyebrows, like I totally understood.  “Do you?  Tell me what happened.  You’ve never told me the whole story,” I said, with so much compassion.  (I wrote about Ron and the potential nature of their friendship in the “Jay-day” story.)  I didn’t really expect him to talk to me about it.  But, he really did.  I mean, he REALLY opened up to me about Ron and how he’s felt in his friendship with him.  As he opened up, I noticed a lot of similarities in his and Ron’s friendships to a friendship of mine.  (Recently, I ended a 25-year friendship with one of my closest friends.)  I felt really unsure about opening up and confiding in him about the experience but, I figured, “What the hell?”  and told him my story.  He had been talking about how he never felt completely accepted by his (white) friend, Ron.  He talked about how much he loved and appreciated the guy, that he’d spent the length of their friendship always making sure he’d come through for Ron, whenever he was needed; that Ron had done of TON of stuff to help him out but that Ron was the kind of guy that you could never really completely pay-back.  (You know…that, somehow, it was made known that Ron was keeping tabs, regardless.)  Nicky was so devastated.  I talked to him about how I felt the same way with my friend and how it all ended so painfully and unexpectedly, just like with him and Ron; that I knew I’d outgrown the friendship long before we’d actually fallen out; that I knew, if I ever brought my feelings to the table to my friend that it would fall apart; how that’s what actually happened.  Half-way through my story to him, he fell silent and just stared at me, like he was completely amazed with me, or something.  Then he started telling me how wonderful and beautiful I am and how he really wants to get close; that he wants us to be really close, like best-friend-close but that he’s afraid…afraid that I’ll leave him.  He talked about all the things he’d love to do with me, all the places he’d like to go.  One thing he said that I thought was particularly interesting is:  “I want us to have new places to go and things to do together.  I don’t want us to go places that you’ve been with everyone else in your life.”

Our talk ended with him saying that he really enjoyed our conversation and that he felt closer to me, somehow…that he felt like he learned a lot about me, or something.  I don’t know.  I didn’t pay too much attention.  While he got out of the tub, I got back in bed.  I knew we were going to have sex.  (I don’t know how I know but, I know.) 

Our sex was SO different….he was so not like himself the whole friggin nite but, when he got in bed, I thought I would just DIE!  Usually, there is no standard foreplay between us.  (That’s a whole separate story.)  Usually, I’m always already dripping wet by the time he gets near me and all that’s required is penetration.  So, he came to bed, naked.  But, instead of just (immediately) penetrating, he held me….touched me….  put the palms of his hands softly on the sides of my head and face.  He entered me slowly, stroked a few times then said in my ear, “I have to tell you something.”  Still inside of me, he held himself up on one elbow so he could look into my eyes…and, I mean, STRAIGHT into my eyes and, with his hands on either side of my face, said, “I feel something different from you tonight.”  He never stopped looking at me while he talked and his gaze was full of love.  “I can’t explain it but, something happened tonight.”

We had sex more tenderly and intensely than ever before.  He screamed out (really) loud when he came.  He talked to me while he held me close and devoured me.  It was all really great but, I still felt uncomfortable.

Afterward, when we were cleaning up and moving around the room, he stopped me to say, “I don’t want you to think I said all that stuff to you just because I’ve had some gin.  I really mean everything I said.  I honestly feel like I saw a side of you I’ve never seen tonight and it makes me feel really good.  Something about the way you were talking about your friend and the things you said just really got to me.”

Since then (it’s been a couple weeks, now) he’s remained fairly consistent…I mean Nicky-consistent.  I’ve been over his house a lot more.  (A lot of that probably has to do with the fact that my son’s been home from college and I don’t have to leave my daughter here alone.)  But he’s been telling me a lot more since then how much I amaze him…how strong I am…  lol..  one night, we were laying in bed and he said,  “I really enjoy your company, Angel.  I’m serious.  I feel like you’re becoming my best friend.”  I just grabbed my empty glass off the night stand, rolled over to face him, handed him the glass and said, “Hmph!”  He laughed, took the glass and started getting out of bed to refill it for me (without me even asking) as he said, “See what I mean!  That’s why I love you, girl.”

M darling Nicky…..


MysticWriter MysticWriter
36-40, F
Dec 29, 2006