Home run

It’s not like me to move slow and take it easy.

Although I am a relatively mellow woman, I find that when it comes to physical relationships I have two speeds:  grass growing and rocket blasting.

Yeah, when I make up my mind that I want some action from someone, it’s hard to stop me.

I do wish there was something besides ludicrous speed, maybe a gentle stroll or a brisk walk, to land me in bed with someone I really like.

To tell the truth, the new guy has slowed me down A LOT.

Everything we’ve done would be appropriate for a PG rated movie.

The few times I’ve tried to broach the topic with him, he changed the subject.

So I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to bring up physical intimacy.

And it presented itself:

So there you have it, I’m not going to jump his bones but I’m not going to inch along, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I’m going to make my own perfect moment and take the new guy there with me.

As my friend Tom put it, “This is not some fuck boi with a coke can dick.”

Take my time.

Enjoy myself.

Don’t rush.

Be attentive.

And fucking pitch one perfect ball right over the plate so he can knock it right out of the park and have a roaring slide into home base.

That’ll do.

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