I hear the intercom buzzer ring and I panic. Oh fuck. He’s here. It’s the moment of no return. All of a sudden, I’m filled with adrenaline.
What have I done?
I go to the front door and I see the video screen on the intercom. Yes, he’s here. I see his big smile on a pixelated screen and I press the button to let him in the building. Then I take a few deep breaths to ground myself.
I’ve invited someone to stay at my place for a few days. Someone I’ve been enjoying an online correspondence with for a couple of months. This is totally out of character for me.
Let me explain.
I’m literally obsessed with my personal space. I’m highly independent and I live by myself. Whenever I have a lover, after the sex, I always ask them to leave so that I can sleep alone.
That’s the way I like it – or so I thought.
I recall a telephone conversation with a female friend a few moments earlier when I told her what I was up to. I just had to tell someone.
“You’re crazy,” my friend said. “I guess you already know that, right?”
I didn’t know how to respond. The thing is, it doesn’t feel crazy. Or maybe the situation is giving me such a huge rush of dopamine that I’m not exactly thinking straight.
“Have you met him in person?” my friend asked.
“Yes, but just for ten minutes,” I told her. Although it was a brief encounter, it was enough to ignite my imagination. I explained this to my friend but she seemed even less convinced.
“You’re still crazy,” she concluded before wishing me good luck and saying ‘goodbye’.
After I met him, our connection was a long-distance, virtual one. We shared video calls that went on for hours and hours. After our marathon talks, I could never sleep. I tried to masturbate to calm down and relax my body, but my mind was always racing. My fantasy world was replete with ideas and longing. My hands would caress my body as I held a big vibrator between my thighs. I would move my hips rhythmically as I played out a million different erotic scenarios in my mind until I felt my breath deepen and my whole body erupt into an orgasmic frenzy of spasms.
During one of our exchanges, he told me he was planning a trip to Barcelona. That’s when my desire reached critical mass. Especially when he asked for advice on where to stay… That’s when I said:
“You could stay at my place. Or would that be crazy?”
There was no mention of craziness in his reply. He was clearly up for it. As a result, the energy surrounding our planned encounter in person shifted drastically. Not only was I super curious about seeing him and potentially exploring the connection we shared. But staying at my place meant I’d be pushing a lot of my boundaries, all because of the profound attraction I felt.
The countdown to his arrival began and a beautiful cocktail of discomfort, lust and intrigue suddenly consumed my entire being.
And now the countdown is almost over. I can hear the lift coming up. Fuck! This is really happening.
I must confess that a part of me is worried that it’ll all go horribly wrong. What if I don’t feel attracted to him in person? I mean, even though our conversations stimulate me on many levels, at the end of the day, primal desire matters, as do pheromones and bodies fitting together like two pieces of an enchanted, sacred puzzle.
I open the front door in anticipation of his imminent arrival.
Fuck, he’s getting closer.
My heart is racing and my breath quickens.
The lift doors open.
The big moment has arrived.
We are finally face to face. I can’t quite believe it. I look up at him and smile as I absorb him in the flesh as opposed to on a computer screen. Although my body is on fire, I also perceive an unfamiliar sensation of peace. All of a sudden, my fears disappear, the orgasms I have dedicated to the fantasy of him are justified, and any craziness associated with this out-of-character situation dissipates completely.
For some unknown reason, it feels so right and I simply cannot wait to experience how it all unfolds.