Fuxked in all of the spontaneous, sexy and juicy ways…
Clearly I didn’t last long with what I previously told you. If I’m being honest, I had all of the right intentions, but sometimes spirit has more in store. I can hear you all asking, yes Shannon spirit is nice but…
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!
So there’s this man. He’s tall, dark and utterly delicious. When I say delicious, I’m not just talking about the taste of his coconut oil covered skin in my salivating mouth. His mind and energy are completely captivating. I feel no pressure in his presence. I’m centred, calm and able to express myself eloquently - ish; this is me after all. Sometimes when I’m excited the words just jumble - my mouth can’t keep up with my mind. Anyway, there’s no nerves with him, and if some do arise, it’s for all of the right reasons. It’s a kind of safety I’ve been waiting for.
I mentioned the sex was spontaneous, it wasn’t first date kind of spontaneous. He started pursuing me late last year. As we are aware, life can hit pretty hard and heavy, as a result I parked the whole dating situation. I was stressed from loosing some loved ones and my energy was low. I didn’t want to taint what was potentially developing with funky energy, I also needed time to process what was happening in my life - something I'm still struggling with day to day. In the same breath, I really needed some intimacy and loving. He spent a while outside of the UK and his handsome smile kept popping into my head. Nothing I can do when he’s 9 hours away though. I dropped him a message whilst I was away with one of my girls. I was getting the tingles that he should be home soon. Luckily, he touched down in the UK shortly after.
My spidey senses are always right.
There have been a few occasions that I’ve made plans to meet this man and some traumatic event always seems to emerge. I was emotional as shit that day. I spent majority of it crying and to top it off, my anxiety was through the roof. As I laid in my bed meditating, tears flowing, and body shaking; trying to pump all of these emotions out. My anxious brain was telling me to not leave this spot. This spot is safe, this spot is home. Spirit came rolling through and I got this undeniable pull to drag my ass out of bed, get in the shower and get ready.
So that’s exactly what I did.
As I’m doing my make-up, the tears stopped. Didn’t have a choice there really; that shit ain’t cheap. I put on a banging playlist and by the time my face was beat, I was in a decent mood. The excitement began to roll in. There’s a fine line between anxiety and excitement. I have found that when I begin to overthink the excitement turns into anxiety. That anxiety can lead me to not go through with things. Distracting myself by focusing on a task releases that overthinking, and I can observe the emotion without it taking over me. I drive to the station, hop on a train and begin to read my book - Women Who Run With The Wolves. I’ve read it like three times, but I swear it just gets better with every read. So I’m reading this book and it is literally triggering thoughts and emotions that were making me sad earlier on in the day. I put the book away and banged my headphones in; staring out at the landscape as I head into the city.
It’s been a minute since I’ve fuxked with someone from London.
I love the city, I've travelled here consistently throughout different durations of my life for lovers. The vibes are versatile and the possibilities are endless. There’s a lot more to do than in my lil home town. Buzzy. The previous times we linked, he travelled to me - I’m hella appreciative for that because many men I’ve fucked with, very rarely made the journey. Green fucking flag for you, hun. I arrive to my stop (somewhere I’ve never been before) and the shakes have returned… Chill Shan, you’re excited and just a lil anxious because this place is new. I’m standing outside the station, it’s dark, and this mofo hasn’t replied to my message. I call my chick to distract me and provide me with some comfort.
I’m waiting a while, and by that, I mean 15 minutes but shit, it felt a lot longer than that.
He voice notes me to let me know he’s almost there. Shortly after, I turn to my left and I see his face peering into the station looking for me. I whistle to get his attention (classy babes) and we make our way towards each other. He’s wearing his hair different to what I’m used to. He looks sexy, sleepy but sexy. I feel like every time we see each other we’re a tiny bit stand offish at first, I kinda like that though. I haven’t seen him in 3-4 months, but it also feels like I was with him the week before. I like that shit too. We take a stroll back to his place, and on the way he explains how much his ends have changed in the short period he was gone.
No, we didn’t fuck straight away, chill ya beans you horny fuckers.
I take off my shoes, then my jacket and lay on his bed as he irons his clothes updating me on his adventures. He can be a little vague when explaining things. I like detail, so I ask the questions, and he answers with ease. I’m hungry. He gets changed, I put my jacket and shoes back on, and we head out. As he’s driving us to his spot, he’s telling me stories of why he loves his community, and some of the crazy ass people he’s encountered whilst living here. We smile, we laugh and our tummies rumble. We pull up to the place, the atmosphere is upbeat and the music is pumping. It’s giving industrial vibes. Fairy lights sparkle up the spot and the chatter is loud.
This man is definitely a regular. The staff greet him with a friendly smile, welcoming eyes and walk us to our table. We pitched up out back, and what a lovely surprise to see we are close to the water. I’m a water baby, I find that shit so calming. He orders us some drinks, and the conversation flows as gracefully as the swans gliding on the canal next to us. I’ve missed his face.
We order our food and a few hours go by within a blink of an eye.
One thing I adore when I am in his presence is the fact I forget I have a phone. You could literally be dying and I would have no clue because I am so present. He makes me feel seen. He asks the right questions and I never feel uncomfortable. He’s not pushy, cheeky sometimes but never creepily inappropriate. He listens, intently. That alone makes me want to grab his dick right there and then. I don’t. We haven’t had sex yet, some passionate kisses have gone down on previous dates, but not the deed itself.
I explain I’m celibate at the moment and naturally he asks me why. Me being me, I psycho-analyse myself and give him honest answers as to why previous situations have lead me to take this path again. They’re the same reasons I always choose to become celibate. I keep putting my time into men who cannot hold the space for me that I need them to, they can in many ways, but not by the depth I need at the moment. My time is precious, that energy needs to be focused back onto me and all that I'm trying to achieve. And I'm tired, I need solitude to realign. No judgement is passed on his side, instead, he praises me for being able to see where I need to invest a little more love. Could he truly be the one I've been praying for?
More time passes.
The server comes over, not so gently pushing us to leave, ‘here’s your bill’. He orders us another drink and pays. We take our time, I’m a little sleepy, but the vibes are high. As we’re heading back to his place, I share something about my past that I’ve kept hidden. He has this effect on me, no part of me wants to hide. I have this urge to spill everything to him, but its early days and I don’t want to dump too much too soon. I’ve experienced a fair bit of trauma, like we all have. Some parts are easier for me to share than others. I want him to understand me, fully. Hardly any men, IF any, have provided a space for me like that; especially so early on. He doesn’t feel new to me though, he does in a lot of ways, but at the same time, he doesn’t.
Contradiction in its purest manner.
We stop off at the shop to grab some drink and head back to his. I like his place, there’s art posted everywhere, books, and its minimal. Simplicity is peaceful and he embodies that alluringly. The conversation continues to ripple whilst we share and enjoy some music. He is so reassuring about the qualities he see’s in me. The things I see in myself but I sometimes forget. Fear can do to that you, especially when spirit is telling you to level up. I express my ambitions, he shares his opinion and has no doubt I will able to accomplish them. He’s supportive and makes it clear he enjoys my thought process. My nervous system has this unquestionable urge to shake. I’m not used to this. I’ve been asking the Universe to send me a divinely masculine man, and now here I am, posted up on his sofa. As much as I want to shake, I am calm. The feeling is surreal yet nourishing.
Scary but exciting.
Throughout the night, we stumbled upon the topic of body insecurities. I actually recited a fair bit of my last blog and explained that it's going to be my next drop. I express my plans and ideas, and again, he praises me. I’m wearing a body suit and jeans, I can’t fully chill in jeans so I undo the button. He smoothly asks me when I’m going to take them off. Get comfortable. The thought flies around in my mind, am I ready for the full shebang? A part of me knows I'm not, not due to him; but me. A few minutes go by and I head to the toilet. My jeans laying on the floor as I return. I mean... I'm not naked, a tease will suffice.
He’s admiring my calves, and my thighs, gently stroking them like they’re treasure. I am treasure. We have an undeniable chemistry, something I have been trying to tame, because I know what I’m like. I can get caught up in the lust and become blind to what’s actually in front of me. I don’t want to do that with him. I want to play but I want it to be right. I genuinely had no intention to have sex with him that night. I didn’t even shave. As my legs are laid over his lap, he feels on the prickly hairs. Instinct tells me to pull away, I’m used to being smooth and proper when I spend time a potential lover; just in case. My internal need to be perceived as ultimately desirable. He’s not bothered about the hair. Another thing that makes me feel content, although my preference is to feel silky soft.
I know he likes providing me that internal ease.
As the alcohol is setting in nicely and the tensions are rising, we head to the bedroom. I can see he wants to explore more of me. I want him to, too. He takes out the coconut oil and asks if he can rub me down. Yes please, Papi.
Tune in soon for part 2…
Until next time, lovers
SIS xox