We spent the next week and a half together. He left everyday to go to work but then would come back as soon as he was done. Neither of us told anyone where we were, so it was very... hmmm. What was it? It was nice! That's the word that comes to mind. We enjoyed each other's company. We laughed a lot. When he came "home" from work, I remember one time saying,

"Oh my god! I can't believe how happy I am that you're back!"

He said, "I know! I can't believe how much I missed you all day!"

And we both laughed out loud while we hugged each other right there at the front door!

We spent our time together like we were on holiday from the world. But, interestingly enough, we didn't have sex that first night. Not the second night either. Nor the third...

Well, technically, I guess it depends on your definition of sex. Because Brent was, to my surprise, a very gentle man. He wanted to make me happy, he said. So when we went to bed that first night, we cuddled up and then - he "made love" to me.

Okay, why does that term make me uncomfortable? "Made love." It does!! I don't know why! It just seems so... sappy - almost cringe-worthy to me. Gross, even!

You know what? I think I know! It reminds me of all those guys that I'd meet in the bars who would tell me how they could change me. That I just hadn't met the You know the ones I'm talking about? Those guys always said the stupidest shit! I, of course being who I am, would always say

"Oh really? So you think you're the right man then, huh?"

They almost always had the same basic response...

"If I were to take you home with me, I would start by giving you a full body massage. I'd put on some nice music, warm up some sweet scented massage oil and caress your body a~l~l o~v~e~r. (Dripping sleaziness) Then, once you were totally relaxed, I'd make slow, sweet love to you, all night long."

...or some version of that same idea. Yuck! Those guys always seemed so... well, in my mind, I picture a guy with his slicked back hair (that or feathered but greasy) and his shirt unbuttoned to his waist, way too much cologne and thinks he's the king of disco! (I admit this can definitely be attributed to the time period in which I was encountering those sorts of men.) But you must know what I'm taking about, right? To those men I always had one same response...

"Yeah, but don't you ever feel like you just wanna fuck, really hard?""Oooh, I do!"

Then I would turn and walk away. Their mouths were always open like they wanted to say something, but almost never did.

Hehe... to me, those guys were a prime example of proof that most men really don't have any idea what women want!

Anyway... as I was saying before, Brent was different. He challenged my belief of that very idea! He is likely the reason that I included the word "most" before "men." Because while he was indeed gentle, he was nevertheless determined and confident and "took" me rather than wait for me to let go and give in to the sensation... The feeling... The he was extracting from me! He was kind and caring and knew all the right places to touch with both his hands and his mouth! In fact, there was one way to best describe the way he was in bed. I'd never said it before about a man but once I did, I knew right away that it was also the best compliment I could pay to any man. Brent made love like a woman!