Unleashed: The True Story of a Recovering Serial Monogamist


Pensando a te

 

I have a love/hate relationship with the karma gods and their twisted sense of humor. First, The Anointed One, and now Golden Gloves (who is a good friend of Marine). This love square could have been complicated, but it’s ended up quite wonderful…

 

If nothing else happens between Golden Gloves and me, I’ll be more than satisfied. He not only met all my sexual needs, but he met my emotional ones as well. He has been the reminder of what I have been missing the last six weeks, of what I didn’t even realize I was missing (in general, and with The Anointed One).

 

PASSION!

 

In any language.

 

I realize now that I have downshifted. I’ve really enjoyed what I’ve had with The Anointed One, and he’s an amazing guy, hasn’t made many missteps… thoughtful, sweet, chivalrous, but the dreaded words emerge: nice, comfortable. He’s a sweetheart, but we’ve (I’ve?) stalled.

 

Maybe it started with the fact that he won’t sleep with me. It’s been months since we started “hanging out,” and still no sex. He satisfies me, he’ll go downtown, but the boxers always stayed on. At first, he said he wouldn’t sleep with me until I was tested. Then I got tested and got hot and bothered in anticipation. And he’ll pleasure me with his mouth and talented fingers, but still. He won’t sleep with me. I finally sat him down to see where we stood, and he explained that since he was borrowing places to sleep (due to a change in work location) and didn’t have his own place, he had promised his friends that he wouldn’t do the nasty in their beds. Fair, I suppose, but where did that leave me? Waiting until the New Year, months after we started “dating.” Months after we’ve had heart-to-hearts, months after he’s implied he wants me to be his girlfriend. And even now, it’s the New Year… few texts, fewer phone calls. I’m starting to feel that his ship has sailed.

 

It also probably doesn’t help that The Anointed One comes with strings, and quite a few. He’s not the kind of guy I can f*&% and keep at a distance. He’s a relationship guy, and being that 1) I’m not looking for that; and 2) he’s my good friend’s BIL, things become even more complicated.

 

The Anointed One and I haven’t seen each other in weeks now (we’ve both been busy), but he hasn’t even made a serious effort to hang out with me, much less communicate with me. He even allowed another guy (Golden Gloves) to “make time” with me several weeks ago, chatting with me for hours, while he entertained his ex-girlfriend who was in town for the holidays. While this could be construed as confidence and assurance in our connection, I have been fully honest and forthright with him about my disinterest in a relationship. He never should have gotten comfortable – if that’s what he was.

 

GG got my attention from the beginning, even as The Anointed One was sitting at the bar, drowning his day’s sorrows in beer, not twenty feet away. I felt slightly bad, but, like I said, I am single and have been honest with every guy I’ve met. GG was complimentary, cute, and highly intelligent. Surprisingly, we had a lot in common, including love of travel, languages, cultures, food and wine, which led to an exchange of phone numbers and a polite, yet sweetly formal request to take me out for drinks and dinner.

 

The Anointed One and I returned to the same bar two days later, which is when I next ran into GG (it was actually partially… ok, mostly expected/planned; we had traded phone numbers the previous night and I had mentioned I’d be there). The Anointed One was entertaining his ex-girlfriend again at the dartboard while I amused myself at trivia, beer pong, and hung out with friends. GG was practically beside himself as to why I had been abandoned and thus, made it a point to spend lots of time with me. He was up front, asking me why I was alone at the bar if The Anointed One was so interested.

 

I really had no answer for him.

 

I found out later that GG was thisclose to kissing me in the bar. Probably a good thing he didn’t; as much as I was intrigued by him (and I was), it would have been rude to kiss him back with The Anointed One right there… and with the egos involved, it might have started a nasty fight (not good in any scenario, and even worse when GG was a Golden Gloves boxer in the US Army and The Anointed One was into martial arts; we won’t discuss where Marine would come into play here or whose side he would have taken – what a mess that would have been!).

 

But my personal business remains my own, and I ended up going to visit GG the night before he moved (which was only the third time I hung out with him). I didn’t really anticipate anything physically intense happening but the thought had crossed my mind. We ate chocolate pudding together, listened to great jazz (Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole, Etta James), shared photographs and stories, talked about books and movies, and ever so slowly, inched closer to each other on the couch. Hours after I got there, as I was leaning into him, snuggled under a blanket, he finally kissed me. BLISS!

 

Sizzle. POP.

 

There’s something about GG that made me nervous and tingle with anticipation. I hadn’t actually made the decision as to whether I would sleep with him that night, and he could tell. He even made a guarantee to me that he wouldn’t try, and all I kept thinking was that I felt so comfortable around him and yet, I barely knew him. That I shouldn’t hesitate in sleeping with him, and wouldn’t have done so even three months ago, but for whatever reason, I hesitated now.

 

His promise to behave was actually what closed the deal. The pressure was off, even though he was leaving the next day, and with that came the freedom to make sensual decisions. The boy also had game. He gave me an amazing back massage (shirt off, bra on), we made out, and he moved down my body, telling me that he was one of those guys who enjoyed making a woman moan almost as much as the sex. Another feel-amazing moment? When he told me I had the body that was a “foreplay play-land.” No shit. I filed that one away in one of the best corners of my brain.

 

In the morning, he did ask me if I could wait until May for him (when he was returning to town)… I was slightly confused by the question since we had just discussed that neither one of us was looking for a relationship; he could sense my hesitation and took it back, saying he wasn’t serious. I’m not blind or naive though… he had been serious. And he had been half serious when he warned me not to fall in love with him (since apparently, “that’s what all the girls do”).

 

But I digress. GG made me feel amazing, mentally and physically, complimenting me in the most original ways, using his mouth, his fingers, and I loved when he took my hand and moved it so that I could work with him in pleasuring myself even while he teased me endlessly with his tongue. We spent hours laughing, tickling, listening to more music on our iPhones, and when my body was screaming with need, I finally insisted he take his boxers off (it was starting to be uncomfortably reminiscent of The Anointed One’s behavior), and it was a godsend! He didn’t hestitate, though he did ask if I was sure before he smiled as a response. He wasn’t the biggest I’ve had (the honor still belongs to Irish), but the whole package (sensitivity, passion, talent, connection) was a lot more than I’ve had in a while. We added f*&%ing and snuggling to the all night repertoire until the sun and daylight shone through his window…

 

I am so entirely glad that I decided to see him that night, because he made me feel sexy and sensual, wanted, and even loved.

 

GG has the bluest eyes and the darkest lashes. I try so hard to avoid comparison, but it happens. He seems to be a conglomeration of all the good characteristics of guys I know, and not just exes. His beautiful eyes and mannerisms remind me of a close long-time guy friend, some of his words (and his deep bedroom voice) remind me of Marine, some of the things he does in bed remind me of The Anointed One (awkward), though much better, and there’s something completely intangible about him along with his spontaneity, creativity, roughness, and enforcement in bed, that reminds me of Asshole, though, again, in the best and most enticing way.

 

It’s bizarre. I can’t figure out whether it’s good or bad, and I kept looking at him throughout the night trying to get some kind of emotional read… on him or me, or me about him, and my brain was blank. Seriously. Like an electromagnet had wiped my drive clean. And then that was weird because that NEVER happens. It’s comforting and at the same time, odd, but not quite unnerving.

 

When I picture his face, I see it up front and center as I saw it the next morning. Pale blue eyes and his dark lashes lining them, the scruff on his face, the quirky smile and twinkle he gets. I imagine him standing in his doorway saying goodbye to me as he knows he’s leaving/moving that night. I see his sad eyes, a shadow clouding them, then feel his arms giving me a hug, and not quite knowing what to say. Goodbye? See you soon? Waiting, waiting until I get in the car… Waiting, waiting in the doorway, with no coat on in 30-degree weather watching me pull off. And yet, still waiting…

 

I remember the feel of his scruff on the palm of my hand and his apology because he thinks he’s going to give me beard burn, but it’s too long and it’s soft and tickly by this point. I remember his deep, soft voice telling me to come and please visit him so he can show me around, taking me to Italian restaurants he knows I’ll love, the Pinot Noirs we’ll drink together, the jazz clubs we’ll visit. I remember his scent, and I remember him saying naughty things to me in bed (not in English.. he speaks six languages – how hot is that)… He’s so sweet. Incredibly sweet.

 

Sigh.

 

That’s the passion I’m missing. Or maybe… I’m just missing him.

 

Amalie Paris

 

**Any comments for me? Share them with me, either here, or on Twitter! @AmalieParis


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