“Why are you taking so long to write me back?”
“I’m waiting to hear back from the pundit (priest – who might as well marry us),” he replied.
I smiled and was smitten by this man that I had written the first message to on OkCupid.
We quickly exchanged phone numbers and spoke for several hours that first night.
There is nothing more sensual than a great conversation. Our first conversation had all the attributes of that sensuality I covet. His voice was sexy. He was witty, complimenting me at just the right moments and cracking a joke at the right time. Humor is great turn on for me.
I was hooked.
We decided to meet in a couple of days. I broke one of my rules that the boy comes to see me.
I took the train to Long Island. He was waiting for me at the station. He was cute – gave me a delicious, satisfying hug and a kiss on my cheek.
He had planned an afternoon at the beach. I saw a neatly folded blanket and a couple of bottles of red wine in the middle of two child car seats. I smiled. He had told me that he had two boys.
“I have everything except the glasses,” he said.
“Stop at a Starbucks,” I said.
“You want coffee? I thought…”
“Just do it, would you please.”
He parked in front of a Starbucks and looked at me with a confused expression that was so damn cute. i wanted to give him a kiss but refrained. I had been with him for 10 minutes.
I stepped out of the car, went into the Starbucks and a couple of minutes later sat back in the car with two empty cups in hand.
He looked at the cups and smiled. Once again, the urge to kiss him came over me.
We started driving towards the beach. The conversation was easy and flowed comfortably.
“Why do you have such a big bag,” he said eyeing my big colorful bag laying by my feet.
“I have snacks to have with the wine plus a t-shirt in case you want me to stay over,” I replied smiling at him.
It was so easy to say these things to him. We had now been together for 20 minutes.
“I have my kids tomorrow morning and my parents are at home,” he said matter of factly.
It didn’t feel like a rejection; but I really wanted to and would’ve stayed over.
“Oh well – your loss,” I said.
We parked at the beach and carried the blanket, wines and empty Starbucks cups to find a spot for us to sit. It was early April and there was still a chill in the air; and so there were not too many people around. We found a spot close to the water and he spread out the blanket. We got comfortable and he opened the bottle of wine as I fished out the focaccia that I had brought for us to snack on. I held the cups for him to fill.
“You could’ve just brought one cup you know so we would be forced to drink from one cup,” he said with that now familiar naughty grin.
“I am so stupid – not yet well versed in the art of seduction,” I smiled back.
The urge of throwing everything to the side and planting a wet kiss on his lips came over me.
NOT NOW said my brain to me once again.
We toasted. “To us,” he said and I took a sip of the wine which slid down my throat and began to warm my insides immediately.
I unwrapped the focaccia and moved aside my bag that now seemed to mock me since it was not going to be my ‘overnight bag.’
“It’s okay” I said to myself. “No need to be a slut.”
We enjoyed the wine, ate the tomato focaccia and I promised to make him one myself the next time instead of buying one from Penn Station as I did this one.
We talked and talked; and talked some more. There was no shortage of topics. We talked about music and movies, what we liked to do and not do. We talked of our dating experiences and many more things. The time seemed to pass easily, as we enjoyed the ocean breeze and the occasional sound of a sea gull flying over our heads.
We laughed a lot. He was funny and laughed at my jokes too. He got me and his laugh was so sexy along with the rest of him.
About 3 hours later when the empty bottles were laying on the their sides and the music he had been playing on his phone begin to hiccup as his phone battery seemed to be giving up, it began to drizzle. He stood up to go to the restroom and I watched his cute self walk away. I then stared into the horizon – happy and content. This was going well, I thought. I then watched him walk back to me and he sat down, this time close enough to me that our knees touched. I felt a current go through me. I wanted to move closer and … you guessed it – kiss him. I wanted to hold his hand. I could’ve but thought, “Let him make his moves.” He better fucking make a move, some move – I took the LIRR from the city to come see him!
The drizzle turned serious and we started to gather our stuff. We both laughed at the sound effects that 40 something year olds make when they stand up after several hours of sitting on the ground.
“Should we go for dinner?” he asked as we walked to the car.
“Sure,” that’ll be nice.”
I was in love. I wanted to grab him and plant a huge kiss on him yet again. This time, because dosa is my favorite food. How did he know? He didn’t really know 🙂
We drove to the restaurant and sat down, ordered our food, still talking nonstop. We talked of our work, our dreams, my obsession with food and so much more.
I can’t stress enough the ease with which we spent all these hours – the longest date I had ever been on.
After dinner we decided to keep the evening going and go for a drink. He knew of a dive bar, probably the only thing open at that hour. in Long Island We walked in and were the only two customers there. I climbed on to the bar stool and we ordered our drinks. This time we were sitting close enough that our knees did touch. Finally! He had one leg over the other and I placed my hand on his leg. He trousers were pulled up and I ran my hand over his the bareness around his calf. We looked at each other and smiled – he rubbed my shoulder with one hand and took a sip of his beer with the other. While we were the only two people in the bar – there could’ve been a hundred others – it would’ve felt that it was just the two of us. For a few moments, we only had eyes for each other.
Bartenders are known to be socially astute, listening to people’s problems all day long. Our bartender did not go to that school of reading social cues. She decided to stand right in front of us – her face resting on her hands and displaying her ample breasts through her low cut blouse. She proceeded to munch on the pretzels that sat in a bowl for the customers. Us! We were the customers. Bad timing missy. She complimented my eyes and I think my bag and I responded in kind, all the while willing her to move away and leave us alone. No such luck.
We finished our drink and headed back to the car.
Once in the car, I looked at my phone and it was late, really late. It was time or me to head home.
Before I knew it, I felt a hand on my leg and his face less than an inch from me. We kissed for a few moments. It was nice. It was unexpected; it was sensual and everything a first kiss should be. I shall leave it at that.
We said our good byes, a couple more kisses and I was on my way home. I closed my eyes and relived the evening. It was all so lovely. The kisses were great and I was happy.
The next day – I got a call from him – I think. It’s all a blur from here on. I don’t have such a clear memory of what exactly was said or how it was said – but I was told by him that he had a wonderful time with me. He liked me very much and was convinced that we would be the best of friends. And for that reason – this impending friendship – there should be nothing physical between us since if there was, the friendship would never happen or sustain.
I was also told that he couldn’t give me what I was searching for which was a sustaining, monogamous relationship.
“I usually sleep with a woman a few times before telling her that I am not looking for a long term relationship,” he said.
“Well, you should have done that with me. Slept with me a few times and then told me this.”
“No,” he laughed. “I like you too much for that.”
And that was that.
I hate to admit this as he will read this – he was right.!
If we had slept together, we would never have been the friends we are today. I wouldn’t have been able to deal.
Four years later I consider him one of my dearest friends and I love him for putting up with me, making me laugh and most importantly, laughing at my jokes more than anyone ever has.
Now this is not a sad story. It could’ve been I suppose if we had gone down the route that many people have. Go on a few dates, hit it off, had sex and then drift away like people who don’t want the same things.
This is a happy story. I went on a date and came home with a best friend.