I think there always comes a time in relationships when that honeymoon period is over and things start to settle into a pattern. Stability and familiarly is nice but sometimes it can be fun to shake things up again. It’s never that the fire’s gone out but just turned down, running low on fuel. I know the feeling well; 10 years with someone means that those flames have been all over the place at times. Real life can get in the way; household worries, health problems, work, study…all kinds of things. You don’t always notice straight away, life will continue comfortably and perfectly well but getting that energy back can do wonders for a relationship.
Hitting the six month mark with S is a big deal for me. I never expected her in my life, after assuming I would be monogamous after I got married. Poly hadn’t worked for me in the past, my previous relationship with a girl lasting just weeks. And yet six months has gone ridiculously quickly, with so much going on in both of our lives. Recently, things have gotten so hectic that we realised that we’ve not been connecting as well as we could be. We needed to open up the communication and actually spend some time together, just of the two of us, where we could relax and enjoy our company. It was also the first time S had stayed over at mine…
I’m always anxious about the silly little things, so try to prepare well in advance. I got the little things like cooking and cleaning out the way before heading out to the munch so that I could just relax when I got home. Still, the neurotic stresses of whether the food would be any good, would my cat behave and not hiss at S and would we actually be able to reconnect. I shouldn’t have worried though; if anything, I think the anxiety helped a little.
The nerves took me straight back to the first time we slept together…the trembling fingers, the longing in my kisses. Kisses on my neck, on my throat, a hand replacing that kiss, my trust with her completely as I struggled for air. Her kisses turning to bites, her hand in my hair, pulling my head back, setting the pace, showing me who was in control. The sting of her hand on my cheek, the shocked gasp from my throat. Gentle teasing of my nipples, turning to pinches. Pinching turning to slaps, slaps turning to punches, punches resonating through my body, thudding on my back. The sharp contrast of slapping and pinching and hair pulling, the shock and release, realising that, in that moment, I am hers…
Afterwards, lying there next to her, running my hands over the wonderful curve of her hip, up her back, taking in her beauty, feeling besotted and fabulous, I felt the connection that had never really gone anywhere: I am the luckiest girl alive.