September 2023 – Audio Version

I double-checked my marigold planner. I was right; my schedule had the tiniest window of availability. For an entire day, I hesitated, questioning my reasons for extending an invitation and checking my boundaries while simultaneously chiding my Inner Goddess and starry-eyed heart for their anxiousness to see Jack so soon. Like Disney’s “Inner Workings” short movie, my heart pulled me in one direction while my distrustful mind remained behind the stoic ramparts so carefully erected for my protection. 

I was puzzled. Why were things different with this paramour? For the past two years, I had carefully maintained and guarded my schedule, holding suitors at the end of a ten-foot pole. Those who had seduced their way to within five feet had left me wounded and battle-scarred. Locking my gates, I had resolutely sworn off all mankind. I was fine. Quite fine. For months, I strove to tempt my overly romantic heart with the idea of growing into the crazy old lady known for her fabulous hats and extensive globetrotting. Just when I thought my heart was sold on the concept of turning into a foxy-wanderlust-driven old lady…there was Jack, turning my head and charming my heart. What did it mean?

I handed the reins of control to my Inner Goddess and fluttering heart. As the pair dashed to text Jack, informing him of the window of opportunity, I could not help hoping I would not rue the decision down the road. My Inner Goddess was so elated that we fumbled the text and failed to properly convey my availability. Silly girl! What was meant to be a brief phone call to set the record straight turned into a two-hour conversation while I lay nestled in my bed, blushing at the sound of his voice. I sighed, not regretting the decision. My skates were laced on my petite feet. I wanted to skate in his arms on the magical lake, but my fear asked, what if I was wrong…again?

But with my legs around his waist, the ladder of my spine crushed against the wall just inside my front door, it did not feel wrong. Being with Jack felt magnificent and celestial, but not because he carried me to the couch bed and gently laid me down, pressing his body against mine. It was not because I was still fully dressed, the hem of my skirt tight around my thighs while his bulge ground against the delicate lace concealing my glistening slit. It was not his fingers in my hair as his lips inhaled the essence of my soul. It was not later in the fiery passion that would take control of our minds and bodies as we writhed in the furnace of desire. Nor was it magnificent and celestial for the resplendent orgasms that burst through me and dissolved like stardust on my skin. It was not in the careful but forceful pounding of his hips, my nails digging into the arches of my feet as my knobby knees crushed my swelling breasts in the heaving exertion of our brief time together.

Maybe the magic was the quiet space between it all, on some ethereal plane where souls meet and commune, that I felt…something. My mind still asked what it meant, and if there was something, what did I feel, and where could any of it go? The planner in me needed answers. My mistrustful mind required time and contemplation. 

Time. Jack had promised me all the time I needed. No pressure. I felt my pulse slow and the ache of nervous heartburn ease.

“I’m willing to wait for as long as you need,” he had whispered as he held me to his naked chest. “You’re worth the wait.”

My skeptical mind brushed off the words. I had heard them many times before; what was one more on a pile of broken promises and assurances? Gingerly, my aching heart picked up the words, dusted them off, and cherished them in a deep chamber where they glowed with the faint phosphorus of hope. Perhaps this time would be different. 

Until next time, XO. Elsie