For a Smile, A Cuddle

So back in the day I found this guy online because his profile said that he lived in California. . . . and Kansas.  I was giving it some serious late teenage thought that I should go to college at SDSU.  And the whole reasoning behind that is because a guy I thought was gorgeous was going to school there.   (Yeah, not so logical now that I think about it.)  But anyways, I wanted to  find some “friends” out there, see what it’s like and what not.   So I found him.   I started talking to him.  Pretty much saying anything and everything to get him to stay interested in me.  I’m 5’4″,  125lbs, hazel eyes, long dark brown hair.  I am bi.   I can deepthroat.  Etc. Etc. Etc.   Half of which is/were lies.  But it kept him interested.  And it kept him talking to me for 3 years.  On the phone and internet.  One New Year’s he actually spent on the phone w/ me.  We watched the ball drop together.  It was really nice.  We’d talk for hours.  This man became my best friend.  And he was a great best friend.

Anyways, we finally decided that we should meet face to face.  A now or never kind of deal.   So he drove all the way to me from Kansas.  I think it was something like an 18 hour drive.  So, I was going to go to work, leave early, and arrive home sometime after he got there.  I told him to call me when he got in.  Which he did.  I told him to make himself at home.  Take a nap or something.  Which he did.  I came home. Opened my door, walked in, looked to my right.  Low and behold there is the man, sleeping.  Peacefully.  In my bed.  I was kind of afraid to get any closer to him than I was.  Almost afraid it was a dream. Almost afraid of what he was going to think of me.  Maybe I should have just let him sleep forever, which is what I thought for a long time after he left.  

I walk over to my bedroom.  Kneel on the floor by my bed.  And I just stare at him.  Taking in his short dark brown hair.  His long dark eye lashes.  The tone of his skin.  Enjoying the way his shoulders were shaped.  Wondering if I should pull down the blanket and sheet some.  He didn’t have a shirt on.  (I just happened to mention that I love black boxer briefs, and I’d love to just see him in those.)   So I sat there.  I stared some more at him.  I got up.  I sat on the couch wondering if I should wake him up.  I went back to the bedside.  I stared.  I went and smoke a cigarette outside.  I went and stared some more.  Then, I think, I rubbed my fingers along his face.  Down his shoulder and arm.  Gently nudged him.  He woke up.  His eyes were and probably still are breathtaking.  The palest blue eyes you’ve ever seen.  Looking back at me! Oh geez.  I was, of course, in heaven.  Those dark/light contrasts are irresistible.

He said hi sleepily.  I said hi.  He leaned forward.  He gave me a hug.  (He said he’d hug me when he saw me.)  He also gave me a kiss.   And that kiss got a little out of control.  3 years of holding in our lust for each other.  Or at least definitely on my part.  I was actually a little bit in love w/ him.  (Almost thought he was soulmate material. And it was earthshattering when I found out, it just wasn’t meant to be.)   After the hug and kiss it’s all kind of a blur to me, I don’t really remember what all happened after that.  (Ok, other than 1 very memorable fuck.  Quite a few blowjobs.  And a trip to the brewery.)

But I do know for 5 days, 4 nights I had him in my bed, in my life, and in my broken heart.  I couldn’t have been happier, even though I was sad as can be.   It was, of course, all my fault.  Because I lied to him.  I should never have told him that I was model thin.  That was my only downfall.  He forgave me for not being able to deepthroat.  And well, I am sorta kind of bi in the sense that I enjoy looking at women and would love to find out first hand what they taste like, but well. . . . I’ve just never gotten up the nerve to try it.   (I still have time.)

So in the end we parted friends.  Only to talk for a few weeks after.  Then we lost track of each other for a little while.  But I had his work email.  And occassionally we did that.  Then we lost track for even longer.  And just recently I decided I wanted to see how he was doing.  Just to make sure he was still alive.   He’s alive.  And doing well.  Third new job since he graduated college.  Divorced after a 6 month(?) marriage.  No kids, at least none living.  And doing very well w/ his big boy toys.   And I think he said he has some Columbian chick after him, but he doesn’t know if it’s valid interest or greencard motivated. 

Just today he messaged me . . . and keep in mind, this is coming from a guy who couldn’t be w/ me in a relationship because I was not a “fat happy go lucky kind of girl:”

 “O”:  I meant to tell you I love the pics of you in the blue shirt with your hair long and the blonde streaks.  You should smile more often.  Makes me wanna cuddle.

Yeah. . . I don’t know if it’s age or if it’s experience.  Or hell, maybe he just thinks it’s what I want to hear.  But, it made me smile.  And I’m still smiling.