The Lover I Never Had
He left me stranded, but a little wiser
When someone shows you who they are, believe them the First time; Maya Angelou
Is it something to do with married men, this feeling of want? If he was a single man and we were dating would I crave him so often? Would I be exchanging texts about fucking in sublime positions and locations? Or with other people? Of course not!
As soon as you engage with someone who is stuck with someone else, you are caught in a whirlwind called their need. They need to have sex and they never have it. So that’s all you do. They need kink because they’ve never had it. So you talk endlessly about it and maybe do it but probably don’t. They are intense – they love seeing you (read having sex with you). You do everything they love (read they haven’t had a blowjob in years). And somehow… you get swept up in their fantasy and their image of you. And you grow very fond of them.
So it was with Peter. He was handsome, accomplished, and very charming. He seduced me with words online, which is the way to go with me. The first time I kissed him the earth moved under my feet. And I knew this person would come to mean something to me.
He had a wife and kids. And then came the usual lines:
- he had never been sexually attracted to his wife and they had a sexless marriage, even though he loved her.
- he had a tremendous sex drive and needed constant kink.
- he had asked for an open marriage, and the wife had agreed and then said no when he told her about me.
- he needed a connection with someone and that was me.
Thanks, Peter.
He was unaware of the stereotype these lines represented. Dear reader, I’m sure you are nodding your head.
Anyway, this encapsulated Part 1 of our story.
Six months later he reappeared, as they tend to do — anyone else notice this? He talked me into lunch, told me again how he needed me, and couldn’t stop thinking of me.
Already, the voice of reason in my head sounded like:
No, he doesn’t. He’s already tried a few women who rejected him and he thought he’d give it another whirl cos you seem to have a soft spot.
I didn’t listen. I drank the pinot gris and ate the lunch. I watched his ass as he sauntered up to the bar. He was sex on legs — magnificent legs. I kissed him in the restaurant, in the street, and in the alleyway. We were insatiable:
It’s just the dopamine, you are not soulmates, said she.
But I didn’t listen.
We texted all the days after. He wanted to see me again (to do the deed) but never came up with a date he could manage, despite my constant inquiries. Still, I fantasized continuously about his ass on top of me, below me, what he’d say as we were making love (and it would be making love — a spiritual celebration). How we’d lie chatting for hours, discovering more common ground.
You know it’s never hours with a married person. They always have to run off, said the voice.
I ignored it again.
Then he said,
“Let’s meet at the beach at sunrise. The one we both love, our beach.”
OMG how romantic! Yes!
“Ok I’ll let you know if I can get away solo beforehand.”
The whole thing was so deliciously seductive. Swimming as the sun peeps over the water. Kissing in the sand etc.
Hmmm said the voice. I don’t love where this is heading.
So I waited. All day I thought he’d text me soon to tell me yes or no. No text.
No text until the following day at 2pm.
“Sorry couldn’t get away solo. The whole family wanted to come lol.”
He had no idea how disrespectful this was. That I was prepared for a dawn escapade while he was watching TV and drinking a beer, the night before, thoughts of letting me know far from his mind.
Disrespecting my time. Disrespecting me.
Yes.
Am I getting any better at vetting the fools like Peter? Maybe not. But in this case, at least I listened to my intuition just in time, before I gave myself to someone. That has to be a win.
What do you think of my encounter, dear reader? Have you had similar? Let me know and enjoy some of my other stories.
