There was a woman I knew, whom I had carried on a relationship of sorts for quite awhile. She was beautiful, and alluring, and distant. We connected instantly on a sexual level, and didn't care much for inhibitions, though she did seem to take on a passive role more often than not.
I would often talk dirty to her, filling her head up with all sorts of stories and scenarios, which would seem to bring new life and imagination, the more it tended to drift off into my bisexuality, the more turned on she would get. In my experience, to find something who finds that aspect of your life sexy, is rare, and highly desirable.
In any case, over time, it seemed as though her emotional distance, which I would never press her on, grew. We never fought, never argued, never really talked about what mattered I suppose.
At one point I was fed up, and felt that she was finally going to put an end to things - so I beat her to the punch, and harshly cut things off without any further conversation.
It was months until I came across her at a social function. I felt shocked to see her, embarrassed about my behaviour, and longed for a better shot at closure. So I broke the ice.
She was warm and forgiving but seemed unsure of what to make of it all. When the party died down and she was about to leave, she approached and suggested we get together some time. Then there was a hug. That went on for far too long. Our eye contact afterwards felt all too familiar. So we kissed.
The social niceties that came afterward fogged my brain until I found myself at home, and reeling from what just happened. I'd poured myself a drink and crawled into bed with my laptop when I heard my email ding.
