Ann pt 1 – Ann pt 2 – Ann pt 3 – Ann St Vincent and I live thousands of miles apart. Until Ann and I met, we were writing about each other using pseudonyms, Ann’s was Julie. Then, we flew to a central location and spent five days together.
The last morning Ann and I spent together was as beautiful as the previous four.
We lay in bed, naked together. She lay next to me, her head on my shoulder, like we had lain countless times before. It was really nice. It was really, really comfortable.
We talked about how we would miss this.
We had arranged a late check-out with the hotel so we could go straight from there to the airport. We reluctantly got up, gathered our things, repacked our clothes and belongings.
I was packing my notebook and laptop when I noticed that Ann had snuck a pair of her purple-lace panties into my bag.
I thought that was sweet but also hoped that the TSA officers didn’t get frisky because I now had a small bottle of baby oil, a bottle of Astroglide, half a dozen unused condoms, my own cum-stained silk boxers, and a pair of panties in my carry on. It would be a little awkward if they decided to search my bag and started pulling things out.
At the front office that morning the receptionist caught herself while we were calling for the taxi to the airport. She slipped, talking about us going “home” together. We’d talked to her a couple times, so she knew we were flying back to different locations.
The receptionist was a sweet middle aged woman, slightly matronly, and probably in a boring marriage. I can easily imagine her getting all excited on a slow afternoon by sneaking in a few chapters from a new romance novel. After she corrected herself she looked at the two of us, obviously curious as to the circumstances that brought us to her hotel for five steamy nights. Her eyes practically begged for the juicy details. Maybe next time.
Ann and I held hands in the Taxi on the way to the airport and talked about August, about the possibility of me coming to visit her. Unless there is some catastrophic scheduling problem, I’m flying out to see her in the fall and not just because of the amazing sex, but because of the sincere level of comfort I feel with her.
Other than bathroom breaks, we literally spent every hour together for five days. That’s pretty miraculous in and of itself. I can’t think of a single person in this world that I could spend a solid five days with, non-stop, without breaks, and not go a little crazy. Not my parents, not my family, not my friends. But I had just spent five days with Ann and I didn’t even break a sweat. Well, I broke a sweat plenty of times, but not for any mental or emotional strain.
We stopped at Ann’s terminal, unloaded her bags, and we spent several long moments kissing, touching and holding each other on the sidewalk. We would both miss this. Eventually she had to say goodbye, turned and gave me a little wave as she walked into the terminal. I got back in the cab and went to my own terminal.
Spending five days with Ann was absolutely fantastic.
Five days and absolutely nothing felt forced. We would have sex, lay tangled in the sweaty sheets and talk about whatever came to mind, completely at ease. We’d shower together, soaping up each others bodies, without a nervous twinge. We’d go to a nice dinner, talk about our families, joke about our lives and kids, talk about past relationships.
There weren’t any awkward moments. There were no weird stories about her ex where I’d get annoyed and try to change the subject. Nothing like that. We’d talk about anything, everything, and it just felt natural.
Maybe the reason everything felt so easy was because we’d spent so much time talking and writing before we met. We’d read each others blogs, so there weren’t many secrets going into the long weekend. Then, we’d talked about anything and everything online for weeks afterwards, before we ever imagined that we’d be spending five days together in a hotel room. We knew we had similar senses of humor, similar interests, similar backgrounds, experiences, etc.
We live so far away, but the distance is so much easier knowing that things went so wonderfully in person. Online or offline, we seemed to just fit together, physically, mentally, and sexually. The countdown to August has already begun.