Cafe Hitch-hike

2021-11-03

"What is it like with me?"

I remember in days past, I'd write about sex or intimacy once in a while. For some reason, those entries usually got the most comments. The funniest thing was back in 2004, I wrote about seeing porn sites on my then-beau's web browser, and women and men alike had a lot to say. Women were usually like, 'yeah, my guy, too, but he mostly looks at boobs and boat parts.' Men were outraged, like I broke some divine contract by looking at their browsing history. I wasn't upset that he looked, but kind of wished I knew what he liked and asked (he wouldn't say).

He looked at a couple of sites with a teacher theme and then co-eds. I would had been concerned if that was all he wanted to do or if he looked at something taboo, but I later understood that he needed his privacy the same way I needed mine.

Anyhow, I suppose we can all use a smile or grin in these stressful times, so with that...

Nicknames withheld to protect the innocent, or those who would dispute or deny any of the below.

We were on a road trip, and 3 couples shared the hotel room. Couple #1 was in the shower/ bathroom for almost a half hour and relaxed on their bed afterward. We then made our way into the shower for about that same amount of time. I guess we moved the shower curtain because the floor was covered in almost a quarter inch of water. Oops! We mopped it up with hotel towels the best we could. We quietly smiled as we left the room.

A guy called Jaffe and his wife were part of the group, and it was his turn to use the shower. He stood near the door while we left the bathroom. I noticed he also looked at the other couple on their bed, and had knowing smirk on his face. He was the only guy who went in without his woman, and he had to wait a long time to shower and turn in for the night.

"What is it like with me?"

"You're-- nimble, versatile. When you said you skateboarded, I was secretly glad because knew I met a guy who could move."

Not the answer he wanted to hear.

"What's it like with me?"

"You are like a horse, a stallion. You are a very fine specimen of a man, really. Very few men get to your age and look and are in the shape you are. If you want to know, very few also have your size. You are rare."

They barely smile. I was being sincere, what more could I say? I really didn't care about his stuff, but knew how in love they were with their penis (and that was honestly annoying as fuck). I actually thought he'd be glad about that compliment.

I dunno, I'm sure men have similar insecurities about themselves as women. I can remember a thousand times where my partner complimented me and either it didn't stick or I couldn't believe them. Perhaps women need some sweet talking or tenderness to add, while guys need affirmations.

I should tell men, 'you're the king! OMG, I was laying there unconscious because the bliss was so intense! I had an out of body experience and 10 intense orgasms! I will sing your praises. Woooooo!'

A guy can say, 'aw, baby, you're like a kitten and then a lioness, and I love the way you look when you _________ (name of expression). It makes me feel so alive and I can't wait for the next time.' He then grins, puts arms around her, gives a soft, warm kiss, and maybe gives her a pretty necklace. Or builds her a completely new bathroom or veranda.

No, such words or exchanges have never quite occurred between me and a guy, this is me thinking it through.

Secret confession: whenever ___________ and I made love when we first woke up in the morning, my stress level was way, way low for the rest of the day. He always made me a latte afterward and we'd watch the morning rise. I was productive, my thinking was clear, and my moods were level. He later told me one of the things he liked best was having coffee with me.

"What's it like with me?"

"You are verifiably a stud." He definitely was, and I was sure other females would agree.

After I said that, I imagined him holding an image of this certification on his phone or wallet to show others, and I kind of grinned inside. How one could get verified if there was a way to do that?

"I don't remember what happened last night, I drank too much. What happened?"

"You don't remember what happened?" I was quite surprised. "We trespassed on that empty property, climbed up to the widow's walk, and smooched like high schoolers. When we came back, you worked the bed like a gym mat! You don't remember any of that?"

I showed pictures of us smiling on the widow's walk. We were bleary eyed, and the backdrop of the widow walk looked a little foggy because of the heavy humidity that night. I had hazy pictures of his sneakers and my sandals from accidental shots.

He looked visibly embarrassed, sipped his coffee, and ran his fingers through his hair, as if to say, 'what else did I do?'

"What is it like with me?"

"What's it like?" I thought it over and smiled. "You're quite sexual. What you do feels pretty natural, easy, and quite all right with me! If you really want to know, I enjoy every bit of it and I enjoy you."

He said quietly, almost like he didn't believe me, "really?"

Really? Absolutely! He admitted he never thought he was or fully felt that way, and I could see that. I honestly didn't see anything wrong with him and had no complaints. I was surprised he felt that way considering all the expressions of intimate pleasure that came mutually and easily between us (no pun intended).

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