It's Valentine's Day, and it had been months that, despite my attempts, I had not found anyone worth going with beyond a couple of drinks and a chat. I was craving an unusual evening that would fulfill my desires and make me feel like I was in a movie. When I was 25 this happened more often, but now that I am 35 I am more disillusioned and sure, even letting go is more difficult for me, but not tonight, tonight I want those feelings of 10 years ago.
I realized that the wonders of modern technology can help me find someone who has the same desires as me.
I dragged myself to the last page of apps on my phone and started checking the profile-a little update was needed. I realized that the photos were 3-4 years old and did not include the black/grey color of my hair that I was so proud of and made me feel sexier than before. So I changed the photos to give new potential dates a better idea of who I was, gave my profile words a quick reread and added that I was looking for a new adventure, reduced the app's search radius to the minimum possible to find girls closer to me, and...
"...here we are" I mumbled quietly to myself. So let the swiping begin.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Oh, cute. No. No. No. Next. Group photo 1, group photo 2, group photo 3, hey but which one are you?
No. Sure. No. Sure. No. But yeah come on, why not. No. No. Straight cis guy, goodbye. No. No. No. Wow. She's beautiful. No... No... No... NO.
<3 MATCH <3 Your match is online, write a message.
I had matched with the wow girl, now what? I wanted to write something original, the classic "hey, how are you" sounded silly.
As I was thinking about what to write the wow girl, Carlotta, took the initiative, "Are you up for a drink tonight? I'm up for new adventures too..."
Just getting that message made my heart beat faster, I replyed. After a couple of messages we decided to meet at a cocktail bar not far from our places, we lived two blocks away, perfect for an adventure without too many entanglements.
When I saw her for the first time my heart was beating faster up to my ears, and my expression was the same of a fish in an aquarium, mouth open, moving my fins haphazardly. With my fins, I dropped my phone and while trying to pick it up I also lost my Bluetooth earphones. At first glance, I had certainly not came off as a sexy lioness, at that moment the animal that represented me the most while trying to gather my belongings was the duck.
I also collected the remaining dignity and joined her at the entrance of the bar, she hugged me tightly with a big smile, she told me that she was happy that I was her
"you are more beautiful than in the picture" she added, and I blush and stammer something like "you too."
We sat and ordered drinks, a little alcohol always helps me loosen up a bit and find the confidence lost moments before. The conversation flows, we laughed and talked about our lives smoothly, she told me that she is in an open relationship with a guy she fell in love with this summer despite always being in relationships with women, at 30 it happened. She didn't think it was possible. This story touched me, I'm not sure why either, maybe because I empathized with the fact that it must hard to question yourself again at 30 or maybe because in her eyes I read just tenderness and love, and in the end that's what I'm looking for too.
"You know, it was easy to open up to you tonight, you made me feel protected, at ease," she said taking my hand under the bar table.
I smile and in that moment, as we looked into each other's eyes holding hands I feel an overwhelming urge to kiss her. I try to restrain myself, we were in a bar and I have never felt comfortable kissing girls in a public place, so I decide to go to the bathroom, break the moment and come to my senses.
The bar's restroom was elegant, all black and white marble with a woody-smelling room dispenser that reminds me of a sauna; I love when the design is meticulous. I find it satisfying.
I entered the restroom but I couldn't close the door, something was blocking it, a thin hand, I opened it again. There she was, right in front of me.
"I needed to go to the bathroom too, do you mind?"
"not at all, come in."
I closed the door behind me. I wanted to take a moment to look at her before making any other move. She was an absolute knockout, with a palpable softness. Dark eyes, round cheeks, loose black curls and breathtaking curves. I wanted to wrap her all around my fingers.
With the door and partitions reaching down to the floor, we were perfectly concealed in that small closet full of scandal. The space was not exactly soundproof; we made an effort to remain silent as we began to explore each other. We did not exchange words: we sought permission through cautious glances and touches.
My cheeks became hot as she brought her hand to my face and caresses my cheek with her incredibly soft fingers. Instinctively, I place my hand on her, our fingers intertwining in an embrace. Our lips, transported by the moment came together like magnets, feeling her lips glued to mine made me emit a moan of pleasure impossible to hold back.
I lost myself in the vortex of her strange, new and familiar softness. She smelled like someone I knew. Our hands started to explore each other slowly. Where I was thin she had welcoming curves. She was soft where I was tense. Her fingers untangled my nerves as they traveled down my back, releasing the frantic butterflies from the door of the hidden cage I was unaware existed. I ran my fingers through the thick curls of her hair, pressing her lips even more against mine. In return, she clutched at my hips to draw me even more into her world.
My hand slipped under the edge of her skirt, grazing the bare skin of her thigh; the aftershock of her thrill spilled from her tongue into my mouth.
My fingers teased her between her leg and the hem of her dress until I felt the heat of her vulva. Slowly, gently, I moved them inside and up toward the swollen silk of her panties. I hold back her moan by sinking it into my neck as I tortuously traced the line of her vulva. When I shifted the silk and sink my middle finger between her folds, I am greeted by a loud moan of approval. I slided her wetness down to her throbbing clitoris and traced small circles around and again following the rhythm she indicated with her moans. The rise was almost imperceptible, but gradually I increased the pressure of my fingers on her clit. I gauged the intensity of the tremors her body sent back to me and at some point it was clear: she hided her face in my shoulder and pulls every ounce of air out of her lungs to stifle a desperate moan.
I feel her vulva opening as I was increasing the speed of my touch. My mouth rested on her breast. The cords of her neck were tense, presumably to quell the sounds that were trying to escape.