Visiting the vaults, are you having fun too?

I must say that I’m quite enjoying our recent tour of these past posts. Each one is this really cool reminder, a sort of bookmark to a place and time in my life. Now since I just shared the post that started my courtship of Dancer, I think it is best to share this. The re-telling of our very first date. Now she likes to tease me about “playing hard to get” that night, but I do protest. That night I met the most amazing woman, a woman who just knocked my socks off with her charm, wisdom and sheer beauty. Such phenomenon are not to be rushed, but rather savored. Today as I recover from a glorious weekend in her arms, I’m still utterly dumbfounded by her wonder.

Originally posted Friday, June 25th 2004

My date with Dancer

So there I was, sitting on a leather couch that probably cost more than my car, sipping expensive French champagne and talking about art with Dancer, a woman who is quite possibly one of the most attractive women in Seattle. Up to this point the evening had gone swimmingly. Sitting side by side rarely breaking eye contact, we talked art, showed each other our portfolios, I told her all my funny stories, we even shared some catty gossip…then she did it, she touched me. Her fingers gently stroked the back of my hand.

Never underestimate the power of a simple touch. Till now the physical contact had been friendly, a hug and peck on the cheek at the door or a gentle pat on the arm after a good story. Of course there was sexual tension in the air, but we were both playing it cool. Then, like flare being fired in the dark night, that single touch said volumes, it was time to make my move.

As she leaned into me, lips moist and parted, I remember thinking to myself, “You got one shot at this. Make it good.” Steeling my resolve I pressed on and the kiss that was returned? Electric, simply electric. In a moment I knew that this woman was going to do things to me that would make Prince blush.

What followed was a torrent, a mad rush to explore every inch of each others torso with our mouths. Hands gripping, fingers caressing we kissed and kissed AND kissed. Then after what felt like an eternity she asks with a wicked smile, “You know, this might be more comfortable upstairs.”

What I did next will either mark me as the great lover or the biggest dolt on earth.

“I’d love to, but not yet. I really am enjoying talking to you. I don’t want to rush this.”

With an even larger smile she refilled my champagne glass and curled into my lap. “So tell me, how did you get the name monk anyways?”
And there we sat talking, touching, kissing and laughing till the wee hours of the morning.


Sitting here typing this, it all seems surreal. There I was, me, with an incredibly sexy woman who wanted to take me to bed and fuck my brains out. And I said no thank you. Not for lack of desire, but rather because I was having too much fun listening to her laughter.

Granted, I know that next time she is gonna use me like a chew toy.