I didn't know Jack

I met Jack online. In my foray into single motherhood I was nervous meeting men the traditional way and thought if I met them online first they could get to know me as a person rather than see my physical body and think only of sex. I’m not a supermodel. I am an active, thin, average woman with an above average sexuality and a confidence that is probably beyond my years. Men see me and an intelligent one will immediately recognize the sexual urgings barely beneath the surface. I exude sexuality and longing. Anything I may lack physically (boobs) I make up for with passion. I attract men who are intuitive enough to see that. Not many can keep up with my desire but they never fail to try. A for effort in my book.

Jack was a few years older, intelligent, professional, averagely good looking, muscular, interesting. He wore glasses and dressed in an entirely unremarkable manner. More than that though, the first time we met, he looked at me like a beautiful woman. Not physically but in an all-encompassing, hungry for me, longing sort of way. On our first date in a coffee shop we spent four hours talking about life, relationships, sex in any and all forms. Sometime during the conversation a physical need I hadn’t addressed in a long time woke up in me and I needed him. Soon.

We talked on the phone, chatted online, sent e-mails and I made it very clear that I wanted him badly. It wasn’t just the physical. My favorite moment of sex is the after party. Covered in sweat and cum and hair and saliva, tangled up in the sheets and each other like a pile of balled up scraps of paper in the wastebasket. Exhausted and throbbing just lying there after fucking wildly. That is when the real love making begins. Worshiping each other’s bodies for the acts they had just committed. I longed for that with Jack. I was wet all the time and couldn’t get the yearning for him to cease.

Jack was passionate and seemingly sexual. He said that he liked to just dive in head first and have passionate committed relationships. He was also excited by the prospect of intercourse. My kind of guy. I am not emotionally unavailable. I’m not sexually elusive. I’m not inhibited or passive or dishonest or even difficult to read. I am not a mystery. He seemed of the same ilk. It excited me to think of the combustibility of our interactions. It promised to be passionate and explosive and amazing.

Not too much time passed before I decided that if anything were to happen between the two of we would need to know that we were sexually compatible. Additionally, I was going out of my mind and needed a release. I found a babysitter, drove to his place on more or less a whim, against my better judgment. He said there would be no pressure, he just wanted to sleep next to me.

When I got there I probably looked frumpy. I was wearing a plain tank top, a button down flannel shirt, and some jeans. I had on a sexy bra and panties and didn’t bring in any pjs though they were in the car. I was nervous and sat far away from him while I pat his dog that was remarkably sweet and cuddly. He brought me wine and we talked. I moved closer when he got up to get me a second glass. When he came back into the living room with my wine he laughed and said, “I see you’ve moved closer.” That quiet mildly cocky, but totally sexy confidence just kills me. I shyly sat there drinking wine, chatting with him and staring at his crotch every time I got the chance. By this time the wine had kicked in and I was feeling loosened up. I finished my wine and he asked, “would you like another?”

I would have answered him but instead straddled him and started passionately kissing him. I could feel the blood rushing into my genitals and his as his cock pressed against his jeans and mine. Without a break in oral contact, I threw off my flannel and he took that as a signal to stand up, also not missing a beat, and carried me into his bedroom. We feverishly undressed each other and I had a fistful of cock before I could even process where I was.

He had the sort of body that looked like he would have a bit of a belly, but naked his body was hard, masculine and strong. Large upper half, thin toned lower half. Broad shoulders. Scant body hair. Slight musky odor. His cock was hard and rigid, and thicker than I had imagined. It was wonderful. I had hoped for hours of foreplay and coming and anticipation and teasing but I was drenched with excitement and soon he was inside of me. I nearly came the instant he entered me. He threw me on top and I came once and then again a few minutes later. Then he held my hips and had me stop. I tried to keep going and he held my hips in place and then got on top and brushed the hair from my face.

“You’re intense,” he said.
“I really want you.”
I suddenly felt very self-conscious.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“You’re just really intense.”
“What do you mean? Is it a bad thing?”
“I don’t know. I just question your promiscuity.”

My what? Did he really just call me a slut because I’m good in bed? I had never had any complaints before. Where the hell did that even come from? I rolled over in bed and faced the wall. A few tears welled up in my eyes and any wetness seemed to evaporate on the spot. He didn't say anything for a while and then rolled over towards me and put his hand gently on my shoulder. We talked for a while and he said that my intensity just surprised him. He didn't mean what it sounded like he meant. He said that I 'floored' him and then he held me for a long time. After a while started kissing again and eventually worked our way to sex and this time he didn’t stop me. My heart wasn’t in it so I just let my body act on its own and we both came again but it wasn’t the same. I woke up early and we had sex again, this time my parts were a little sore from hard fucking and months of being out of commission. He came, I didn’t and we had an awkward goodbye.

I’d love to say that I sent him an e-mail the next day standing up for myself, told him off, and then went on a date with another man, had passionate raucous animal sex, and then never saw Jack again. I did send him an email, I didn’t tell him off, went on a date with another man who I didn’t even kiss, and then talked to Jack the next day. A few days later I saw him again and we had sex that night and then the next morning. It was much better but still cautious. I really liked Jack, he was kind and quietly confident. His body was unspeakably sexy, he wanted the same things I did in life and he was intelligent. I need a passionate uninhibited man who sees sexual desire and passion as a desirable attribute. Maybe that is him and maybe it isn't. If it isn't him does that man even exist?