I don't have sex on the first date. It's just not something I do.
However, when I went out with a good friend the other night, I don't think we realized it was a date, and I don't think we realized we were going to have sex.
I met him a few years ago through some projects - we were introduced and realized our business styles were similar. He has a kind of professionalism that I respect and admire. We had fallen out of touch over the past year: we were both in serious relationships (he had moved in with his girlfriend), and we hadn't been working a lot together. I was surprised when he called me in late August. He told me that he had flown to meet his girlfriend's parents with her in Europe, and that after he arrived, she dumped him for another woman. He flew back to the states and called me the next day for guidance. It surprised me: I didn't expect a call from him, nor did I know he respected my opinion that much. I talked him through the immediate pain, and checked in on him the next few days to make sure he was okay.
When I got back here, he called and wanted to get dinner. We desperately needed to catch up.
We met at a really adorable restaurant halfway between our apartments. I was a little dressed up - during the day I decided to go with my "professional" look. When I got out of my cab, he was wearing a suit. God, he looked fucking handsome. Incredibly sexy. (I later learned that these days he always wears a suit, so it wasn't like he was getting dressed up for me or anything.)
We were at the restaurant for hours; we closed the place down. The conversation was effortless - we talked a lot about our recent breakups... we both missed having the presence of another body in our beds; snuggling is a basic human right. Otherwise, we had so much to catch up on and It was so great to hear about how successful he's been lately. It was blinding actually - success is sexy when you've been dating guys who you have to ask to pay for your dinner - he picked up the entire bill (He wouldn't let me look at it, but I'm guessing it was around $100.) I'm not a golddigger or a moneygrubber by any means - It's just really attractive to be taken care of for once.. I've always felt like I had to be the nurturer.
He had told me about his new apartment - the one he had to get as soon as his girlfriend broke up with him - and I volunteered to go see it after dinner - I figured I wouldn't know when I'd see him again or have another chance to travel out to his apartment, so I might as well go with him now and get the grand tour.
It took us a little while to get out there, but his apartment was cool. Empty at the time - he has JUST moved in days before - practically no furniture. We talked about what he was going to buy and where it was going to go. I realized it was starting to get really late and mentioned I might need to leave soon... he suggested I just stay over - we indulge in our aforementioned snuggling desires - I figured it was safe, thinking "It's just snuggling."
So I stole a pair of his sweatpants and jumped into bed. He followed soon after and we were wrapped and intertwined. It was such an embrace that felt so good, so right. I opened my eyes for a split second and saw him staring back at me. He had one of those looks - you know what I'm talking about - and I knew what was up. I had subconsciously tricked myself into this, and now I was going to have to make a call.
"This cannot change things professionally." I said. "I will not have it. I am an adult and this should be dealt with maturely."
He said something about being an adult as well and that he wasn't concerned at all with the situation.
The next thing I knew, clothes were coming off. We were breathing into each other and our bodies just seemed to click. It was marathon sex - hours of it. Probably the most I've ever had in one night. "Was it good" is the question that always comes up - and I can say that some of it was great... felt amazing. Sometimes when we were done with a round, he would just stay inside me... we were connected in those moments and it was so surreal. On the other hand, it got a little jackrabbity at times. Gentlemen, whoever told you that pounding it into me like you were whacking off with your hand was never sexy, never good. Painful, in fact. Not cute. Ow. Still hurts.
But otherwise, it was nice.
We got 4 hours of sleep (normal for him apparently?) and I woke up the next morning completely disoriented and somewhat mindfucked. Manic, to be more precise. We had sex again, got in the shower, and went about our work.
It took me awhile to come to a few realizations about the situation: first, when we got in the shower, it wasn't sexual at all. It was a shower. He just happened to be standing next to me. Second, all day I was a completely manic mess, trying to figure out if I actually ha feelings for this person, or if I was just jaded by money, sex, and success.
I still don't know how I feel about it. I have feelings for him, sure, I just don't know what they are yet.