TISM

I rolled up for my third date with BN2 at his house on an estate in the north of the city. The suburb seemed pretty ordinary until I turned into his street, at which point the houses suddenly doubled in size and grandeur. When I found his place it turned out to be an elegant Italian-style villa, with french doors, terra cotta tiled floors and a honking great indoor swimming pool.

Whoa, I thought to myself. I am so out of my socio-economic league.

But BN2 carries his urbanity and privilege very lightly: there are garbage collectors who are more pretentious. He made me a drink and showed me around the place, then we sat and talked while we listened to jazz. Whenever the opportunity arose, as I walked past him or leaned over to reach my drink, he would run his fingers across my arm or my shoulder or my hip, and if I was especially close, he would catch my lips with his.

When we sat down to eat, it turned out that on top of his many other qualities he’s also a sensational cook. He made a delicious French chicken dish with asparagus, served with the last bottle of his favourite merlot. We talked some more, then tidied up the dishes.

“So, do you want to watch a movie?” he asked.

“No, I do not want to watch a movie,” I said, and I grabbed him before he could even think about picking the DVD up off the kitchen counter.

Memorable moments of the next four hours included;

* The way he threw me onto his bed with a lusty growl the moment we got up to his bedroom.

* Lying naked together, exploring each other’s skin, with the glass doors to the balcony open letting the cool, evanescent night breeze slip over us.

* Getting the little salty tang of pre-cum as I sucked his cock, and hearing his gentle moans.

* The way his body tensed up excitedly when I wrapped my legs around his waist.

* The little jolts of pain that came with him thrusting inside me, made so much easier to bear by the way he whispered and gasped and cried out my name.

* Lying in each other’s arms in the darkness, clean and dry after our shower, his hand stroking across my shoulders, so warm and soft.

* Looking down on his handsome, contented face as I reclined across his chest, tracing its outline with the back of my fingers.

However all good things come to an end. Even though he wanted me to stay the night, I had a full day ahead of me and I needed to go home. But it was so hard to leave – every time I said goodnight he enfolded me in his arms and kissed me, then nuzzled against my neck with a warm hum or a deep, satisfied chuckle.

I have a terrifying feeling that some time in the future I am going to fall for this hot, sweet, intelligent, easygoing man like a ton of bricks. And after so many years of safe, secure singleness, I don’t think I will handle that kind of vulnerability well.