Still having to wait.

Last night I managed to catch up with Mr Singular - it's been three whole days since I last saw him, a record in our short relationship. We met at an invitation-only sale at a high end and extremely gay interior design store, and we spent a while looking at pretty things while sipping champagne. I was very gratified when we bumped into another gay friend of mine: as soon as Mr Singular's back was turned, gave me a split-second, wide-eyed "OMG HE'S HOT!" face, before he had to slip back into a neutral expression when Mr Singular turned to us again.

Afterwards we slipped off to a fashionable bar and just spent an hour together talking and enjoying each other's company. But I had to do some grocery shopping, and take a friend to the airport for a late night flight, so we had to part by 8pm. But for the rest of the evening we traded texts, ramping up the sexy banter until we were forced to admit that it wasn't really banter any more. I wanted him, and he wanted me.

We've had an arrangement all week to see each other on Saturday, and oh, the plans we had! Meet mid-afternoon and go shopping. Have dinner at a little Italian place around the corner from his house. Snuggle on the couch with a glass of wine. Go to bed early and tear into each other, releasing all the pent up sexual energy that we've been hoarding all week, voraciously, hungrily, creatively, late into the night. Wake up on Sunday morning and laze in bed, nuzzling and enjoying more langorously paced sex.

But... my cold sore is a very bad one - the skin across my whole face is dry and my eyes have a vague, constant itch. Despite the fact that I'm dilligently using the anti-viral cream it's only healing very slowly. I was hoping that it would be healed by tomorrow, but here we are the day before and it's still blistered. We're facing the horrible prospect of having to forgo sex even longer. I feel as if I'm letting him down. I feel diseased - here I am getting freaked out by unprotected sex, but I'm the one who's demonstrably infectious.

I'm longing for the touch of his hands on my naked skin, his lips brushing against my ear, his teeth biting just a little too hard on my nipple. I yearn for the prickle of his chest hair under my fingers and the soft downy fuzz of his shaven head on my cheek. And frustrated when we stop talking for a moment and just look at each other, and I see the flicker of hunger in his eyes.