The day of our date. I picked her up at her place in the late afternoon. Eric asked how long we'd be, and she gave him a time range ending around mid-evening. I thought to myself that that probably wouldn't be quite enough time for what we had planned, but I didn't say anything -- I figured that she knew our plans as well as I did, and if that's how long she wanted to spend, fair enough. No expectations.
We went back to the pottery place that we went to on our November date, to finish up our pieces. We ended up staying there for a couple of hours, idly working, chatting, relaxed. Very pleasant. As I mentioned in a previous post, she'd asked that I not initiate any physical contact, and I was scrupulous about this. As we were getting ready to leave, I pointed out that if we stuck with our original plan, which was to go back to my house so I could make us dinner, we'd be out later than she'd said. We texted Eric to let him know, he said it was fine.
On the ride back to my place, I gave in to curiosity and asked her about her recent experience with Dexter. She gushed, apparently it was amazing for both of them. There was one moment where I was smiling a small smile and then it suddenly fell off my face, and the positive emotions I was feeling fled as I asked myself "Am I really sitting here, happily hearing about how tingly they made each other, can this really be ok?" But the moment passed swiftly, without her noticing, and it actually WAS ok. Better than ok, actually. Her first time with a man other than her husband, his first time ever, and it went so well for both of them... it's a beautiful thing, truly. I loved the thought that she's been sexually active for fully half of her life, and yet can still learn and experience completely new things. Life should be like that for all of us.
At one point, I was waxing philosophical about poly, and I said "The wonderful thing about having multiple lovers is that each one teaches you new things about yourself... each one sees a part of you that no one else sees, and reflects it back to you, so you get to learn things you might never have otherwise learned." There was a pause in the conversation. "...plus," I added, "more people to help you move." We both cracked up at that.
Back at my place, I got to work getting dinner together -- mixed drinks, a couple of courses, and a healthy-but-rich dessert. As I chopped, we talked some more, she completed a puzzle and read a book. She got up at one point and cuddled me, as I worked -- it was the first time we'd touching all night and it was delightful. When everything was finally finished, I took it all out to the dining room, where I'd set up a bank of candles, which served as our sole lighting. The only thing missing were rose petals scattered over the table.
If I may say so myself, everything came out GREAT. She complimented me on it and ate everything with relish. She also commented on how odd, and yet how pleasant, it had been to let me do all the work. Normally she would have been trying to help, and would have felt uncomfortable sitting idle while someone else was busy, so it had been an experiment, a new thing, for her to relinquish all responsibility. I hardly need say that I was pleased to hear that she was happy with the experience. She touched me just a little more as we ate, chaste but intimate, warm. She told me that she wants to have me shine her boots before the next club night, which is an idea I am ALL about. It was thoughtful of her to suggest it, she knew how much I'd like the thought, and her boots are precious to her, personal.
By this point, we were passing the new target-time we'd given Eric, it was clear that it was going to be closer to midnight by the time we got back to her place. Gia texted back and forth with him for a minute, I wasn't sure what was passing between them and didn't ask. But she didn't rush the end of dinner, we took our time with dessert. I felt a little guilty, like I was being a bad metamour by not insisting that we rush back, but I couldn't honestly regret the time together in the least.
Finally, I took her home. As I was driving, she told me again what a wonderful time she'd had, and she ruffled my hair for at least a full minute. It felt so nice that I almost got distracted from the road. I was proud of myself for holding to the no-initiating-contact rule. Normally I'm very touchy-feely, so it had been a conscious effort, but not a painful one. It made me enjoy it all the more when she reached out, and it let me know for sure that she really wanted the contact. I only slipped up once, right as she was about to leave the car, I slipped my hand into hers. She squeezed my fingers. Then she kissed me, though not for long.
We saw each other again, the next night, at a show. Although we hadn't discussed whether or not it was meant to be for just the one night, I mostly stuck to not initiating physical contact. We have more plans coming up -- she may come out with me to a dance party in February as a just-us date. Without me pushing for it, she seems to be shooting for once-a-month dates, which is a relief for me, to think that that need can, in fact, be met.
I'm so curious... if I completely let go of initiating sexual contact, how long will it take before she chooses to initiate? WILL she choose to? Will we just end up having the occasional threesome together, which she seems more comfortable with (why should it be any different now, when that was always the case when we first started out)? No simple answers, no clear vision of our future together, but it's ok. It was a very good night with the woman I love, who loves me too.