“Flirting is a woman’s trade, one must keep in practice.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
Gone to yet another trip to Hawaii without the hardworking husband. She doesn’t know the stress that comes from career life. Granted, being a mother has its on stresses. In the lack of understand of one another, the lack of appreciation becomes insurmountable. My own mother worked throughout my childhood and was the best mother she could be considering her troubling situations with my father. I respect the working woman above the housewife as all 6 of my parents sisters never held a job in their life. My mother sacrificed her future for her families future by committing herself to an arranged marriage at the age of 14 in order for her family to someday gain entry to the United States. My father’s family had gained citizenship in the United States by a lottery system they had in the 1970s. She was married by the age of 19 and once she arrived to the United States, she petitioned for her family to immigrate. She worked so hard, while her sisters just relaxed their entire lives. I’ve gained the worker gene from both my parents, at one point I worked 3 jobs because I like to keep busy as I learn and grow.
Enough about my family history. Let me continue my story.
As H was once again gone, a couple weeks this time around. I asked R if I could camp at his place. He jumped at the opportunity of spending time with me. I wanted to impress him, so I purchased some lingerie to show off to him. I packed up some clothes to last for the two weeks I would be spending at his apartment. He picked me up from my parents house and we proceeded to drive to his Apartment. When we arrived to his apartment, he gave me a little tour. I was surprised to find that there were two bedrooms with beds in each of them. Apparently, one was declared Daddy’s room. H slept with her 3 year old son in the bed they used to share, but since their son was born all she wanted to do was sleep next to her son. He slept in the smaller room with the smaller bed on his own every night. In my research, I have found that the lack of intimacy in these situations result in a lack of affection in partnerships. Children should have their own room and crib/bed, so couples can have some time for themselves.
We ended up on the larger bed in the larger room. He kissed me and I kissed him. Then, the door opened and a kitty walked in. Ebi, the cat is really talented in opening doors even when it is completely shut. We eventually ignored the kitty. After some foreplay, he asks me if I was sure I wanted to take it further. I said, “yes, I’m sure.” He took off his pants and as did I. As you can imagine, at this point we were ready to do the deed. R whispers, “You make me feel like a virgin, as if this were my first time. You make me feel young again.” Thinking about it now, obviously since it was our first time of course it would feel that way. Seeing that he was in a relationship with the same person for the past 8 years, feeling young again would make sense. He is very vocal in bed, which I quite like as I am just a moaner. This first time around wasn’t exactly enjoyable as he was a bit too excited and moving too fast. I laugh at this moment as I think on it and he doesn’t remember the details of out first time when I brought it up one day as I was reminiscing.
The second and third time around I remember to be absolutely mind blowing as I have never orgasmed during intercourse before. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t just from intercourse. He fingered me, while being inside me from behind. I’ve only ever been with three men and he is the best man I’ve been to bed with. The next time, he walked me to the closet while keeping it inside. We finished the deed in the darkness of the closet. When we were in the closet, he wanted me to say something to him. I ended up saying, “I love your dick.” I didn’t know what to say really, since I am quite introverted.
The next time we touched flesh in the closet. I confessed that I loved him. He responded, “Are you sure you don’t mean that you love my dick?” I was a bit hurt by the comment, but understandably I did say that previously. We had a conversation about what type of people we are and how we are the type of people who take relationships seriously. I wouldn’t just sleep with anyone and neither would he.
Even with the conclusion of being serious people who do not have intercourse on just a whim. We questioned whether it was lust or love. Perhaps he questioned it more than I did. R was concerned if I really did love him. He asked, ” are you sure the love of your life isn’t your current boyfriend? What if you regret losing him?” R is a man full of worry and fear. An introvert and yet an extrovert in the professional world. A person with low self-esteem that hides it well.
I didn’t expect much from pursuing relations with him, but I was ever hopeful for what the future had in store. I always considered the first year in a relationship as a test year to see if it were to work out. If it was meant to be, we would carry our love for many years to come. That it wasn’t lust, but true love.