The Architect knocked on my door precisely at 6:00 on Thursday and handed me a grocery bag. After a sweet kiss hello, I finished cleaning the strawberries, and we gathered up fruit, cheese, and crackers and stepped out the back door. We spread a blanket, took off our shoes and opened our beers. The breeze was perfect and the sun was warm. After a few bites, we laid on our backs and looked up through the softly swaying leaves of the trees. The sky was a perfect blue with not a cloud in sight, and just as I was about to tell him how great this moment was, the Architect squeezed my hand and whispered, “This is wonderful.” This is one of my favorite things about dates with the Architect. Just being together is what we both love.
As the sun went down, the breeze got chilly, and when I slipped my icy bare foot underneath his sock, the Architect gathered our picnic and brought me inside. He stopped me from cleaning up the kitchen with a kiss that had my head swimming. He led me to the bedroom and laid me gently down, running his hands up and down my body over my clothing. He kissed every inch of skin he could get to without undressing me, while I writhed and moaned softly underneath his lips. “Architect,” I breathed to him, calling his name, telling him I didn’t want to wait any longer. He took my clothes off one piece at a time, bit by slow bit, kissing everything he exposed. He stood up to take off his own clothes, and I smiled to see his cock was already thick and hard.
The Architect lay down next to me, sealing our skin together, and started to stroke my clit while kissing my neck and my mouth. Even on days like this one, when he means to be gentle, the Architect touches me far too hard. I whispered in his ear to be gentle, please, and in response, he flipped himself on top of me and pinned my wrists on either side of my head. When I raised my mouth to kiss him, he dipped his own chin and began teasing my nipples by licking them far too gently. When he had me begging to his satisfaction, he applied his teeth. I yanked one hand out from under his grasp and pulled his hips hard against mine.
I could tell that he intended to pin me right back down again, and I was having none of it. While he reached for a condom and put it on, I made sure I was nowhere I could be trapped on my back. Instead, I pushed the Architect’s shoulders back on my pillows and straddled his hips. It was my turn to tease. No matter how he twisted and arched underneath me, I kept our bodies just barely in contact, tilting my hips to counteract his anxious squirming. He looked up at me, and I thought for the millionth time just how handsome the Architect really is. I leaned down to kiss his neck, and he placed his lips right next to my ear. “I love you,” he sighed.
I rewarded him by sliding myself all the way down on his cock, and giving him what he wanted, albeit at my own pace. After we were both satisfied, I turned my back to him and tangled my legs with his, pulling his arm over my waist. He nuzzled my neck and told me he loved my body. I quoted him a few lines of e.e. cummings, then, and when he wanted to hear the rest, I reached for my phone and read to him “i like my body when it is with your body”. He read me sonnet after sonnet by Edna St. Vincent Millay. I read him Sharon Olds and Pablo Neruda. We laughed and kissed and fucked and snuggled until I pointed out to him the time.
“Oh,” said the Architect, “I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.” It was already 12:30am. See, this is the part of a date with the Architect where things diverge from the ‘standard’. “Is wife home tonight?” I asked. “She’s working, she’ll be home at 6:00 to wake me up,” he told me. I smiled, kissing his shoulders while he tied his shoes. “She works hard,” I said. “So do you.” He glanced up at me. “We know what we want in life.” That made me laugh. “Someone has to,” I told him, and he swept me into a tight hug. “Part of what I want is you,” he said in my ear. “I love you, too,” I told him, still laughing. “Good night!” I sent him out my door, locking it behind him. I got into bed and pulled up the covers. I texted the Architect’s wife to tell her to let him sleep in an extra half hour. And I fell asleep with a grin on my face.