I’ve kissed a lot of men over the past five years since my divorce. I’ve kissed men with hard lips, dry lips, wet lips, slimy lips, limp lips and even men with almost no lips at all. Sound Guy had the nicest lips I’d ever kissed. Full, firm lips, just the right amount of pressure, just the right amount of moisture, just the right amount of open ripeness to make me want to lean in even closer and sip a little more. So I did.

I kissed him again. And again. And again. He massaged my arms, massaged my back, stood up in front of me and kneaded my shoulders.

“Wow. You are really tight. I’ve never felt shoulders this tight before.”

“I do tend to store my stress in my shoulders, but it’s not just that. I lift weights. I shoulder heavy burdens. I have to have strong shoulders.”

He laughed, sat down next to me, kissed me again. “Aren’t you hungry?”

I looked into his eyes, not speaking. A thousand thoughts ran through my head. Twelve weeks I’ve been on this blasted diet. Six and a half months of celibacy. Five years since I had allowed my heart to open and love someone. I thought of my king sized bed, of the covers that remained smooth every morning, of the sheets that were so worn on only one side. I thought of the empty medicine chest on the right side of my bathroom and of the still, silent clothing rods in my closet that once contained my ex husband’s crisp white shirts and dark suits. I thought of the vacations and car trips and holidays and birthdays and mornings spent sipping coffee, alone on the bench by my fishpond. I was hungry all right. Starving, in fact. But I couldn’t tell him that.

I didn’t speak. I slid a little closer to him, ran my hand up his sinewy arm, over his biceps, across his broad shoulders. I smiled into his questioning eyes and pressed my breasts into his chest, draping my arms around his neck and sighing into his ear. “Let’s go inside.”

I didn’t sleep at all that night. I lay with him on the bed, his arms twined around me, one hand cupping my left breast, his left leg draped across my thighs. I felt his skin against my skin, listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing, his breath warm against my neck. I was cradled into him, this stranger, this man I had met just eight hours before. It had been years since I had felt anything like this, years of waiting for this feeling of exquisite understanding and connection.

One girl whom I had always found beautiful but distant asked me how I felt. “Extremely cuddly” was my answer. The next thing I knew, we were cuddling.

Okay, no big surprise.

Eventually, this turned into some really great making out. She was very aggressive, and when I got aggressive back, I could tell it turned her on more. We ended up making out almost as though we were fighting… or dancing. She and her boyfriend and I and my girlfriend all ended up going back to their tent for some fun.

Before you discount this as a mere drug story… she and I have encountered each other at a few (drug-free) parties back here in civilization, and we still find we have this hot, playful chemistry.

Now we’re married (several years) and the chemistry is still there, but it’s different. This morning I woke up, already aroused from some dream, and snuggling nakedly against him. He curled around my back, and I tucked one of his thighs between my legs so he could feel how wet I was, and so I could move against him. Barely waking up to rub and stroke one another, to be entered from behind in a spoon position, and to smile later and say “good morning.” It’s a quieter chemistry, but one I cherish just as much!

As luck would have it, we all ended up on the same plane headed back to the states, we sat together and all felt the chemisty ramp up a notch the closer and cler we got to home. We were all headed in different directions once we got state-side, but all of our planes left the next morning(we arrived early evening in baltimore).

We changed, and headed out to drink the town dry, and ended up at a gay club….we had a blast waching all of us being hit on by …well, everyone…the tension getting higher and higher…in the taxi ride back to the hotel, it all came to a head….he was sitting in the middle. She reached over his lap, grabbed me and kissed me, I molested him…you could feel the sex in the air…i ended up riding him in the back of the cab, completly nekkid from the waist down, being fondled and kissed by her…..the cabbie was speechless…..we made it back to the hotel, but got no sleep. Made it to our planes the next morning..and back to the real world.

They’re still my best friends.

We chatted for 6 months online, him even encouraging me to seek marriage counseling to be certain leaving is what I wanted. This made him even more amazing to me because of how much chemistry the two of us had, and how much it must have took to tell me to try to stay with my husband.

When the uncoupling was complete, we decided to meet in Las Vegas, and oh. my. god. I told think we slept a total of 20 hours in 5 days. We had so much sex I couldn’t walk. Just everything he did drove me crazy. All that waiting time, all that time in a sexless marriage, I didn’t think I could experience it like this.

I moved across the country to Virginia to be with him. It’s two years later and I can’t imagine my life without this amazing sexual, spiritual, and emotional chemistry we have. I love my life now!