Every time either I or my lovers are with someone else I feel the need to reconnect with them afterward, emotionally, intellectually and sexually. Yesterday and today was no different.
Yesterday I got home from an overnight in Chicago with a new lover, someone I have been flirting with for quite some time, but with whom the actual in-person connection had never happened before this weekend, for one reason or another. W had kept me the night before and dropped me off at the airport for my visit Saturday, and on Sunday he picked me back up, an arrangement we had discussed long before the actual weekend and which appealed to us both on many levels. Due to the nature of this little adventure, I knew I was going to need some time to decompress with him after I got back. In addition, we both of us get off on the idea that he is “preparing” me for time with someone new, as well as “reclaiming” me after. It is interesting to me that claiming me, putting his mark on me in various ways, has become something of a ritual of ours. Interesting and very, very satisfying emotionally, besides just being fucking hot.
What I didn’t expect was to need to see Ad yesterday when I got back too. What I really wanted was to sleep with them both, to feel surrounded by them both, turning from one of them to the other all through the night, hearing their breathing, smelling them, feeling their bodies on either side of me all night. Safe and tight and warm, cocooned by their bodies. I even asked Ad to come over to W’s, which he was willing to do, but W doesn’t have central air, and I quickly realized how miserable Ad would be, with his low tolerance and love for the heat. That he would come anyway, and was planning to, knowing that the house, in this 100 degree weather, would be too hot for him, is testament to how well he knows and loves me.
But I love him back, and even if he was willing, I couldn’t be that selfish. I gave him an out and we three met for ice cream instead, which partially satisfied my need to reconnect with him for the moment anyway.
So Ad went home after ice cream, and I stayed at W’s, and in terms of he and I reconnecting, it was better that it was just he and I. We needed that time and space to be just us two. He needed to do those things he does to me, I needed to be reminded of who I am with him. That would not have happened with Ad there. Even Ad said so: “You need time with W to find yourself with him again after being with someone else. I’ll be here. Come home when you are ready.” And yeah, I know–I am one lucky bitch, to have this man love me so easily, so simply, and with such generosity.
And I got what I needed with W, and I think he with me, talking with him, sleeping with him, feeling his hands on me, in me, possessing me, declaring his ownership of me again and again. Feeling him pull me to him in the middle of the night, the weight of his arm across me, his breath against my neck. Feeling him love me, even if he doesn’t say the words. Again, yes–lucky bitch, right?
And then I texted Ad from work today and told him all our other (sensible) plans were out the window–all I wanted was to come home and be with him, make love to him. To have him hold me, to feel him inside me, to feel him shudder in ecstasy against me. But mostly I just wanted to be held by him, to know the easy familiarity of him, to be surrounded by his love and gentle care of me. And I needed to love him back, to show him I am his, and wanted nothing more than to be there, in that moment, with him. Loving him-easily, simply, generously.
I need them both, reconnecting, reclaiming & rejoicing in all that we are together.