It Began at the Grocery Store

"No, no."

"Can I ask why you want to break up with him?"

"We're on a totally different wavelength and, frankly, there's zero chemistry. But now it's your turn. Are you seeing someone?"

"Not now, but I'm really hoping that's about to change!"

"So you're chasing some poor girl like a hound? Who is she? Someone I should worry about?"

"Her name is Amy. You should definitely worry about her. She may be the sweetest girl I think I've ever met."

"You only think?"

"I don't know for sure yet. She might hate dogs or something, so I'm reserving judgment."

My face was going to break -- I don't think I ever smiled that long and that hard. We talked for hours. He was concerned about pursuing another man's girl (he's so damn considerate) but I assured him that I had already planned to break up with Hunter. And yes, I had a date with Hunter that night but it may take another day or two give him his freedom.

We went through all the likes and dislikes as if we were preparing for a game show that would test how well we knew each other. It was an easy conversation. I don't think I ever felt more comfortable talking with a man, and that convinced me more than anything that Mark was something special.

I decided to hit him with a potential barrier to a relationship -- the same barrier that has cost me boyfriends in the past but also showed me everything I needed to know about them and why the breakups were worth it.

"Mark, can we talk about something important?" I knew this was a phrase that paralyzed most men with fear and trepidation.

"Sure beautiful! By the way, I'm going to need an acceptable pet name -- you know -- a term of endearment for you... like Sweetie or something."

"I'm sure we can find something at some point."

"What do you want to talk about, Sweetie?"

I laughed. "Okay, Sweetie it is for now."

"Good. So, what's the important thing you want to talk about?"

"Sex!"

"Ohhh Kayyy. Can you see me blush over the phone?"

I cracked up. "No!"

"So, by 'talk' about, are you asking for it? 'Cause, damn girl, you burn quickly!" His laugh gave away he was teasing and not expecting a quick roll in the hay.

"Down boy. No. I just think that... sometime soon, after I deal with Hunter, that you and I are... you know, potentially going to be in a state of mind and arousal that... well, it might come up."

"Did you say 'come up' to bait me into confessing the current state of my little friend?" He laughed nearly uncontrollably. I guess this is what ROTFLMAO sounds like over the phone.

"No, but thanks for sharing. Since you confessed, my current state of arousal has me sitting in a puddle, so we're even!" We both laughed even harder.

We finally calmed down and with bits of remaining laughter floating through, he asked, "So, what do you need to know about sex?"

"Okay. Seriously now." Minor bursts continued. "I just need to let you understand where I am on the issue at hand." That led to more ROTFLMAO.

"Amy, Sweetie, if you keep feeding me with double entendres, we'll never get through this subject."

"I'm sorry. So, plunging ahead...." That was it. We lost control for a few minutes.

"Amy! My side aches. We need to be serious!"

"I'm sorry. So, forging ahead... I wanted to be clear that I'm, well... a virgin. And I want to stay that way until my wedding night."

I waited to hear if there was silence on the other end, or maybe even the sound of disconnection. Instead, I heard a sigh -- but what kind of a sigh I couldn't tell.

"Sweetie, we still don't know each other well and I haven't earned the right yet to automatically expect that you'll believe what I say, but I need you to believe this. That is a huge relief to me. To my shame, I can't say that I'm a virgin. I wish I was for a lot of reasons. But if we do become romantically involved, and believe me I want nothing more than that, you will be a virgin until your wedding night if I'm the one there with you."

My mind was flooded with thoughts. "Could this be true? Is he saying that because that's what I want him to say? He sounds so sincere. He's perfect for me. Oh, thank God!" I was weeping with joy. I couldn't contain it. Mark could tell.

"Amy, are you okay?"

"I'm -- more okay than I think I've ever been!" I needed to know his motivation as if it would confirm what he already told me.

"Mark, why are you okay with this -- and why are you ashamed to not be a virgin?"

"Sweetie, I'm ashamed because of my faith. I didn't believe in God when I lost my virginity. But now I know why I should have cherished mine, and why I'll cherish yours. I understand all the reasons why it's something to be saved and treasured for the right moment. Why do you want to save yourself?"

"Mark?"

"Yes?"

"For exactly the same reason. It's the gift I want to share with the man who loves me and has become my life mate. It's a gift for us both on that night. I think God knows what He's doing, and I trust His guidance with this."

"Amy?"

"Yes?"

"I want to date you so much right now."

"Give me a few days, and I'll let you know when I've paved the way."

"Damn phone!"

"Why?"

"I also really want to kiss you right now!"

"A few more days, Sweetie."

"Hey- that's my name for you. You've got to be more creative."

"Okay. How about... Meatball?" I snickered.

"What! Why?" Mark was chuckling.

I put on my sexiest voice. "Because I llllovvvve meatballs."

"Oh. Meatball could be good!"

The clock disobeyed. I wanted it to stand still. But it was 4:30 and time to get ready to see Hunter. Mark and I said a long goodbye and set a time to talk tomorrow.

*****

I took a cab to Hunter's place at 5:30. Hunter lived with three roommates. J.D. and Will were pigs. They were rude, crude, and often lewd -- the three deadly "udes". The other roommate, Paul, was actually a sweet guy. I knew he had a crush on me, but I also knew he wouldn't cross Hunter. Personality-wise, Paul was more my style than Hunter. But Hunter had a rugged look that appealed to me. I had no chemistry with Paul although he wasn't bad looking.

Hunter's personality was in the middle of the extremes set by his roommates. He could be sweet, but he occasionally exhibited the deadly "udes" too. That was the biggest part of my problem with Hunter. He pushed my limits as far as he could. He was certainly not a virgin and didn't understand why I wanted to be. I'm not a total prude. Actually, I'm quite passionate and have lots of sexual fantasies I want to share, but mostly with my husband. Hunter and I have crossed second base, but I wasn't ready for the oral aspects of third base. Mutual masturbation was as far as I wanted to go, and we've been there. Hunter still pushed, and I didn't budge.

Tonight was Hunter's typical date plan. Pizza, beer for him, soda for me, and then sit on the couch seeing how far he could push me. The old leather couch in the basement was in front of a TV, but it was also Hunter's preferred petting spot. With my plans to end it, I really wanted to have a talk with Hunter and avoid touchy-feely. Hunter wasn't cooperating.

"Come on Babe. I'm really backed up here. If you don't want to get off...fine. But help me out!"

Note to self -- "don't let Mark call me Babe."

"Alright -- if I wank you off, can we talk a little?"

"Sure Babe."

His rod was already out. I don't have a lot of experience, but Hunter seemed rather small compared to other guys. Fully erect I'd guess he's a little over five inches without much girth. One hand is all I needed. The other blessing is that he didn't last long. This certainly was a blessing now, but didn't thrill me for any future we might have had.

I was sitting on Hunter's right side. Dutifully, I reached across with my right hand and began his short flight to release. In this somewhat awkward position, Hunter saw an opportunity and couldn't pass it up. He put his right hand behind my neck and forced my face to his crotch.

"Come on, Babe. Give it a little kiss and suck."

"Hunter! Stop it!" I was trying to fight him but he's too damn strong.

"You want it Babe, and I know I want it."

Truth be told -- yes -- I wanted it. I've spent a lot of fantasy time on oral play -- often using my fingers as a make-shift phallus while masturbating. But I wanted to reserve that for marriage and I certainly didn't want to be forced. He ground his cock on my clenched lips while I refused to open my mouth. It didn't matter. Mr. "Quick-Shot" came all over my face -- even up my nose.

"You jerk!"

"You know you liked it."

"Liked what? Getting my face jammed into your pecker while it shoots all over me?"

"Just swipe it into your mouth and swallow. You'll see it tastes good Babe!"

"Don't call me Babe, you moron. I'm cleaning up and I'm outta here!"

"Don't be like that Ba... Amy!"

I ran upstairs to rinse off. Confession - I did taste some out of curiosity, but I didn't want Hunter to know that. I especially didn't want him to know I liked the taste and texture. I finished cleaning my face and where some had gotten on my top and walked right past him to the street to get a cab. He kept saying my name, trying to make me see reason from his perspective. All he did was seal my decision to cut him loose. I didn't want to do it then. I needed to be calm.

It was only 7:30. I wasn't crying - I was 'spitting nails' angry! By the time I was home and calmed down, it was almost 9:00 PM. Hunter kept trying to call and text. I ignored him and eventually blocked him.

At 9:00, I texted Mark.

[AmyWaters] What are you doing?

[MarkDanton] Reading a Grisham Novel

[AmyWaters] Are you available to talk?

[MarkDanton] Sure

My phone rang. I already had Mark set up with a ringtone: "You Are the Best Thing" by Ray LaMontagne.

"Hey Meatball!"

"Hi, Sweetie! I'm glad you wanted to talk, but I didn't expect you'd have time tonight."

"Tonight was the straw that broke some poor camel's back."

"What'd he do? Are you okay? Did you break up?"

"Let me answer in reverse order. No, I didn't break up with him, but that's happening tomorrow around lunchtime. Yes, I'm okay. To answer your first question, the jerk tried to force me to blow him."

"WHAT? You said you're okay, but do you need me to teach him a lesson in manners?"

"If you mean to beat the crap out of him -- no. As much as I'd like that on a certain evil level, no."

I told Mark everything that happened. He was exceptionally supportive and comforting. I think I could tell him my deepest, darkest secrets. I did take the opportunity to tell him that I'm eager to experience mutual oral pleasures someday. He seemed rather happy to hear that.

"Mark, after I cut him loose, would you like to come over early in the afternoon tomorrow and stay for dinner? I think I'd like to start... 'you and me' -- if you know what I mean and if that's okay with you?"

"I want 'you and me' more than I want my next breath, Sweetie. How's 2:00?"

"Perfect. I'll text you the address. Are spaghetti and meatballs okay?"

"Wouldn't that be like -- cannibalism!" His contagious laugh was so endearing.

"I get it. You want a new nickname. We'll work on it tomorrow."

"I want to invent 'the kiss' phone."

"We'll catch up on those tomorrow if you want."

"Oh... I want that for sure. Goodnight, Sweetie!"

"Night night... Meatball."

*****

I hate breaking up with someone. It's against my nature to hurt somebody. I didn't hate making the call to Hunter. Normally if I had to do this I'd do it in person, but I didn't want to see his face. This was going to be a phone breakup.

It was 11:40 AM Sunday. I was back home from church, and I knew Hunter doesn't attend so he'd be home. I called him.

"Babe... I mean, Amy! I'm sorry... I just couldn't help myself. Please, come over and let's make up."

"Hunter, you know how I feel about all that and you can't seem to understand."

"Come on. I'll do better."

"What's ironic, Hunter... is that the very thing I wanted to talk to you about yesterday, you answered for me with that shove into your crotch. I don't see us working. I'm calling it off."

"Amy, I made a mistake. Don't make me pay for one stupid moment."

"If that was the only thing, I might get over it. But you do nothing but continually push my comfort level, and I've been more than clear where I stand. Over the six months we've dated, the last five have all been handjobs and groping. We do nothing to build a relationship. My role in life is not just to get you off. Last night, when you tried to physically force me to do something I'm not ready to do -- you showed your true colors. Sorry, but that's it. Goodbye Hunter."

I didn't give him a chance to respond. I didn't want to hear it. Goodbye and good riddance.

I felt a sense of relief and my mood improved quickly. It was time to get ready for Mark, and I couldn't have been more excited.

Sami and Jenn went to their parents' houses for the weekend, so I had the apartment to myself until Mark arrived. I arranged the living area for a comfortable and potentially intimate conversation. The couch served as a room divider opposite where the fireplace stood. It was a chilly day in March, so I lit the gas fireplace to warm the room and set a romantic mood. I moved the coffee table to the side and built a big pillow puff in front of the hearth for a leisurely conversation and, hopefully, making out.

I started the meat sauce cooking to build its flavor. But tonight -- no garlic bread. I'm not as stupid as I look. I hoped he likes Shiraz because that's all I had. It was time to shower and change.

I knew that night would be special. I also knew Mark would not push the limits. They're his limits too. As I slowly undressed before my shower, I watched myself in the full-length mirror, taking inventory of what was given to me. I love how Mark looks at me, and I struggled to see what he sees. I took stock of my imperfections.

"Breasts -- just okay. Tummy -- a little extra meat, but it's too bad and it's all mine. I don't really have love handles, but there's a little extra there. Pubic hair -- nicely trimmed but not going to be visible tonight. Thighs -- muscular and a little thicker than I'd like. In general, my legs have a nice shape and seem to fit my 5'4" frame. They need a shave, but if I don't I won't be tempted to expose them. Butt -- not a bubble and I count it as a positive asset."

I decided. I trusted what Mark said. I felt beautiful -- maybe for the first time in my life. In one personal meeting and a long phone call, Mark had let me see myself through his eyes. I looked at my eyes in the mirror. They're windows into my heart and I saw what my heart wants to hold. I saw a place for Mark in there.

I stepped into the shower and felt renewed. The water was pulling any remnant of Hunter down the drain. I've washed him from my being like a film of dust succumbing to my body wash and working its way to its final destination with the help of the cleansing water. Water - that wonderful foundation of life that flows all around us and through us, carries the memory of Hunter to a fitting place -- The Philadelphia Waste Treatment Plant. May his memory rest forever in the muck and goo.

I was refreshed. I was ready for a new chapter. As I dried off I considered what to wear. It was a casual night. Jeans seemed appropriate and my dark red top should cover any sauce splattering. And it's modest while revealing enough to whet the appetite. Perfect. I wanted Mark to feel comfortable. "So tonight -- it's bare feet." That's the only part of me that's normally covered that would be void of clothes, but I felt like my soul was already exposed to Mark. I was willing to trust him with it.

It was 1:45. I was all butterflies and nerves in anticipation. "How will tonight unfold?" I was pacing in the kitchen. I couldn't stand the wait. Finally, I heard a glorious knock. "Let the Mark chapter begin." I turned the handle of the door as if it would reveal my greatest treasure. "It just might be."

"Mark!" Come on i..."

Mark smothered my lips in a deep and wonderful kiss before I could finish my greeting. I liked his greeting better. His tongue gently parted my lips and met mine. They moved together in a slow, passionate dance. The energy flowed between us and through us. I felt like I could conquer everything that came against me. I was empowered. I felt like I was drinking him in, as powerful as drinking from a fire hydrant. I've kissed before, but I've never kissed like that before. I wanted to do it a lot more.

"Uhh... Hi Mark!"

"I dreamed of that kiss since I saw you at the door of the grocery store."

"I think two dreams just came true." I locked onto his mouth again. I needed more. Now!

Our kiss dissolved into an embrace. We still stood in the doorway, not wanting that moment to pass. It was not a hug. It was like we were trying to form into one person.

After about five minutes, we finally moved inside enough to close the door. The chill from outside was refreshing. We were generating an enormous amount of heat. Or was it the fireplace? Maybe both. At the rate we were burning we wouldn't last the night.

"Get comfortable and I'll grab us something to drink. Is water okay?"

"Works for me. I knew you were cooking Italian, so I brought along a few bottles of aged Brunello, my favorite Italian red."

"I've never had it. I'm stuck in a Shiraz rut but it sounds like you can expand my wine experience."

"I'm no sommelier, but my mouth knows what it likes. For example, my new favorite flavor is right here."

Mark gently pulled my lips to his. We devoured each other's passion and tasted each other's desire. We couldn't keep up this pace, but I would have loved to try.

"Amy, are your lips getting sore?"

"Oh, yeah. I don't care."

"I've only been here for twenty minutes and we have all evening. Can we talk a little before I lose the ability to use my mouth?" His smile lit me up.

We sat and talked on the couch for several hours. We talked about family, friends, faith, finances, future dreams... all the great "F" words. I learned how strong his emotions flow for those he loves, and for the things he cares about. We alternated between snuggles, embraces, deep eye-to-eye connection, glorious lip-to-lip affection, and tongue-to-tongue twisting in passion. This was connecting with a capital "C." We've only spent a few hours together, but I knew I wanted to know everything there was to know about Mark.

"Getting hungry, Meatball?"

"Oh, yeah. But can we find another nickname?"

"Okay, but I get the final vote!"

Dinner was great if I do say so myself. The wine Mark brought was heavenly. He made eating spaghetti look like a sideshow. He twirled it like a pro, never splattering or dripping. When his loaded fork had the occasional long strand, he'd hold it above his head and guide it into his mouth almost the way a sword swallower performed his act. I loved that he was a vocal eater -- not talking while his mouth was full, but making appreciative noises with every bite.

"Are you sure you liked dinner?"

"Are you kidding? The flavor is amazing. The pasta is perfectly al dente. And the meatballs? I feel honored to be named after them!"

I giggled at his antics. "So do you always moan in ecstasy when you eat?"

"I'm rather transparent about how I feel about something... or someone. I don't make appreciative sounds on purpose, they just flow on their own."

"What about that happy dance you do after each bite?"

"What happy dance?"

"You sort of squirm a dance in your chair and you wear this cute little grin as you move like you're dancing to a happy tune." I can't help but laugh as I try to imitate his look and movements.

"I do not!" He looked surprised and appalled.

"Oh yeah, you do. I'm going to record you sometime when you're not looking."