The Kind of Man a Woman Needs

It’s been a while. I stepped away because I just found myself always writing about him. If you don’t know who I’m talking about, go to my profile and read “ First Love”. And then while you’re at it, “Time Heals Everything”.

It’s almost been six years since that man loved and broke me. There were a few men after that. Each relationship finished with them disappearing without a trace. No face to face conversation, breakup text, or even a post-it(if you know you know). Just, nothing.

A little over two years ago, I met a man. An older man. We were at a mutual friend’s house warming party. He had salt and pepper hair, incredible blue eyes, and a welcoming smile. We started chatting and instantly hit it off. Let’s call him Peter.

It was getting late and I needed to be up early the next day. I told Peter that I needed to be heading out.

“ Oh okay,” he said, “ Can I walk you to the train?”

I smiled, “ I would like that.”

Peter and I walked the two blocks to the train station. I turned to him, “ Thank you for walking me.”

“It was my pleasure,” he paused, “ Would you like to get a drink sometime?”

Once again, I smiled. “ I’d love to.”

We exchanged numbers. For the next week and a half we were texting each other constantly. We found each other’s socials and sent Instagram and Facebook reels to one another.

When it came down to picking a bar, he suggested one in his neighborhood. I remember thinking “ ah ha”. He just wanted to sleep with me. And honestly, I was okay with that. Truly. I wasn’t upset. I was used to it.

I agreed to meeting him at the place in his neighborhood. The day before the big date, he asked me if I wanted him to buy a bottle of wine in case we made it back to his place. I knew what he was really asking: are we going to fuck?

So again, I said “yes”. Because honestly, I hadn’t had sex in about 9 months. I was down for some fun.

The date was….well, awkward. That banter we had at the house warming? Gone. There were many silences. So many in fact that we each had about two and a half cocktails. I thought about cutting it short and going home. I couldn’t imagine having sex with this man. There was no chemistry. No zing!

He broke the silence, “ Ready to head to my place?”

Well, I thought, At least I’ll break my dry spell.

Ten minutes later, there I was. Sitting on the couch in this gorgeous apartment. He was in the kitchen getting the wine. I was hoping we’d say “cheers” and then he’d make his move.

Peter came back with two glasses and a bottle of Merlot. He poured and we toasted. Again, more awkward silences. I was confused. Did he not want to have sex? Was he just shy? He gave off that energy at the bar. I mean, I thought he was probably at least 15 years older than me. Maybe he was nervous.

I then did something I never do, I made the first move.

I took a sip, put my glass down, slid closer, and kissed him. He kissed me back. It was slow and soft. Respectful. A few seconds later, he put his glass on the table. … put one hand on my face and one on my back. The kissing got more intense.

I hadn’t felt passion like this in ages. It was exhilarating. I couldn’t believe this was the quiet man from a couple of hours earlier.

Eventually I was flat on the couch with him on top of me. I could feel his hard on through his jeans. I had one hand in his hair and my other arm wrapped around his back. One of his hands had slipped underneath my shirt and started to squeeze my breast.

I felt so powerful for making the first move. I usually always let the man initiate. But since he wanted sex, I was going to give him the full Melissa sex-pot package.

After a few more minutes of making out, I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Those cocktails went right through me and I really had to pee. While I was in there, I had a thought. We both know we’re going to sleep together. Why should I bother putting my pants back on? In fact, why go back out there with anything on at all?

So, I didn’t put my pants back on. I took my dark green top off. I on purpose had worn a matching bra and panty set(black lace of course). My hair had fallen flat a bit so I flipped over and finger combed through it. When I was back upright, the blowout I had gotten earlier fell back into it’s voluminous curls. I pinched my cheeks for some color, and stepped out of the bathroom.

I leaned against the walkway into the living room, “ Hey.”

Peter turned around. There I was. Practically naked. I have 11 line abs and a tight round ass. My boobs aren’t too big but they aren’t too small either. Just the right size in my opinion. I felt so powerful standing there.

“ Jesus Christ.”

I may have sauntered over to him. I was a bit tipsy. I picked up my wine glass and took a sip.

Peter started to kiss me again. His hands were running all up and down my body. He grabbed my thick hair and pulled my head back and kissed my neck. I fucking loved it. It was starting to get a little rough. I like it rough.

We stumbled our way into the bedroom. On the way over there, his shirt and belt had come off. Did I mention it was a Classic 6?

Once again, I was flat on my back. This time, on the bed. Peter only had his briefs on at this point. Still hard as a rock. It felt big. I was dying to see it. Another thing, he was an amazing kisser. I feel like people don’t appreciate kissing anymore. Sure, sex is hot. But kissing is intimate. You’re exchanging saliva with another person. Sex is putting a key into a box. You know?

Now let me tell you something, what I experienced next I can’t quite put into words. I’ll tell you what it was: an orgasm. But the thing is, I truly had never experienced one before. I thought I had. One time, a guy asked me if I came and I said yes because, what was I supposed to say? I didn’t know what that true release felt like. Not until Peter.

Peter was sitting up on his knees. He stared right at me. Slowly, he slipped my panties to the side and placed his fingers right on my clit. He started soft and slow(thank God). It felt nice. He started add a little more pressure. I noticed my chest rising and falling a little more than before.

“ You like that?” He asked.

As I tried to speak, all I could muster was “Mhm”.

Peter began to move his finger a little quicker. I then realized, I couldn’t speak. I was holding on. Trying to be quiet. Why? I never had to make noise before. I didn’t know what I’d sound like. Would he think I was ridiculous? This is what was going on in my head while I was having my first real orgasm.

I simply couldn’t keep it in much longer. I let out a cry. And then another. I sounded like a freaking animal doing a mating call. Peter went even faster. I was gripping the sheets. Writhing like a cat in heat.

I couldn’t contain myself. Moaning. Crying. Trying to catch my breath. It felt like electric shockwaves through my entire body. I had once read that the clitoris had over 10,000 nerves. Peter was certainly hitting every one of them. I hadn’t realized it, but Peter had taken his long, pink, veiny dick out and was stroking it.

I let one one final “OH” and propped myself up on my elbows. I was out of breath but still full of fire. Peter and I locked eyes. And then he said, “ I want your mouth on me.”

I thought he meant more kissing. But before I could comprehend, he put his dick in my mouth. I hadn’t given a blowjob in ages. It wasn’t my favorite thing in the world. In my experience, guys wanted me to go fast. I can’t do it fast or else I choke. Luckily, Peter liked it nice and slow…

“Fuck Melissa,” he said, “ Fuck.”

I guess he was liking it. Now he was the one trying to catch his breath. He was holding my hair in his fist. I was enjoying this.

After a couple of minutes, he pulled my head back and looked at me. Really looked at me, “What do you want?”

“ I want you to fuck me.”

He let go of my hair and reached over to the nightstand. Yup, condoms in the drawer. We love a man who practices safe sex.

After the condom was on, he inserted himself. I missed that feeling. Right when it goes inside for the first time. We both held our breath, and then in sync, exhaled out. It began.

I’m going to cut to the chase. It was the best sex I’d ever had. It was gentle, then hard. Him on top. Me on top. Me on the side. Him behind. Standing. All fours. You name it. The entire time he was dirty talking. Again, I couldn’t believe this was the quiet man I almost left at the bar.

He finally came, and we collapsed in each others arms. He spoke first.

“ So do you want to go out again sometime?”

I laughed a little, “ Yeah. I think so.”

I left the apartment feeling empowered. I had just had the most incredible sex. With a pretty incredible guy. Nothing could stop me.

I believed that all Peter wanted a casual no strings attached fuck buddy. Because for the next couple of months, that’s all we did. We didn’t go on any more dates. I’d go over to his place, fuck him, and leave. And then one day…

We were laying in the bed after another exhilarating “play date”. Peter was playing with my hair while I was laying on his chest.

“ What’s a fun fact I should know about you?”

“ A fun fact?”

“ Yeah,” he said, “ I mean this is great. But, this is more than that.”

I felt like I was glitching. So, he didn’t want this to be casual? He wanted a relationship?

“ Um…I can’t think of anything.”

“ Really?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I said, “ I’m a pretty boring person.”

Now he laughed, “ You are far from boring my dear.”

Oh yeah, I by then had found out how much older he was than me…26 years. Another thing, he was about to leave for 3 months for work. So, how could this work?

I spent the night with … the morning before he left. He was going to Boston. Not too far. He asked me to come and visit. I wasn’t sure if he really wanted me to or was just saying that.

That morning I realized something, I was actually going to miss him. He had become a lovely little part of my life. I was actually sad. We had fantastic morning sex, he made me coffee, and then I left.

I did wind up visiting him in Boston. Three times. And then after he came home, he left again. And again…and(yes)again. But during those weeks and months where he wasn’t here, I never felt alone. He always answered my texts and calls. He’d check on me every morning. My God, I had a boyfriend.

The day we exchanged “I love you’s” is a day I will never forget. I knew about 6 months in that I loved him. But I promised myself I wouldn’t be the first one to say it. And one day, about a year and a couple of months later, I did.

He was working up in Vermont and had a couple of days off. He rented a cabin for us. We had gone on a walk and it had started to rain. I’m not making this up. It felt like a movie moment. We were walking back to the cabin, hand in hand, and I just couldn’t keep it in anymore. I said:

“I love you.”

Peter stopped in his tracks. He picked up my hand, kissed it, and said, “ I love you too.”

It’s been almost two and a half years now. We are still together. We’ve met each others parents. We also mixed our friend groups. However, we are still living in separate apartments. We haven’t had the marriage discussion. We’ve had the kids discussion. We aren’t sure if we want them or not. I still have some time.

I didn’t think I could ever truly love or trust someone again. I think we changed one another. I’m not scared anymore of being alone. I like to say that he found me. Because he did. I hope every person who has ever been broken finds that one human who heals them. Because my god, it feels so good to be loved.