OK, so details about the Beckett situation...
The recap of the backstory already posted here is that I met him at a fetish party (which attending is a rare occurrence for me) back at the end of May, and it was an instant lightning strike. We circled each other all night, eye-fucking but not speaking, and then at one point he grabbed my wrist as we walked by each other and it was the hottest thing that ever happened to me without having spoken to someone. But I was there with Rider AND Sam, and I couldn't very well ditch them to go hang out with a new guy all night. At the end of the night, Beckett and I finally talked and exchanged FB info.
And then I was busy for like two months straight. We set a date for this past Friday, but we stayed in only minimal contact in the interim. I facestalked him enough to have an idea of his backstory, and I was nervous because he always seemed to be surrounded by very young alt/fetish models who had bad grammar. I worried that his "type" was young, dumb, and beautiful, despite he, himself, seeming to be very intelligent. Also, he recently quit drinking, and I worried about how the lack of alcohol as a social lubricant would affect our date, and whether if I had a few, he'd be uncomfortable. Leading up to the date, I always had to message him first, and he did not seem very excited, so I did not set any expectations and kept my bar very low.
Friday during the day, though, he started messaging me a lot, communicating about what we would do later that night. We changed plans back and forth a bit, finally settling on sushi and going out to a gay club where his friend was putting on a performance. "The thing that sucks," he said, "is that I need to be to work in the morning. I've got to be home by 6 a.m." I asserted that we didn't have to stay out that late, but I'm sure we could still have fun.
I did my makeup to the nines, super-smoky eyes with a pop of blue; I put on my feather earrings and what I call my "seduction boots": knee-high lace-up black suede. To match his goth look, I picked a blue and black striped dress with mesh panels on the back. I wanted to make sure that if his first impression was me in a latex minidress through beer goggles, his second, sober impression was one of similar attractiveness.
He picked me up in a fancy car (apparently, he is a rich person), and he was wearing eyeliner—one of my very favorite things! He looked super-mega-hot. We went for sushi in the gayborhood. Conversation was not strained, but I felt a little weird, even so. As we entered the restaurant, the host was complimenting the hell out of me, gushing about how pretty I was as we walked to the table. When Beckett and I sat across from each other, he cast a long look at me and said, "You ARE pretty." So, mission accomplished there.
We had a great conversation over dinner, finding unexpected things in common, including a love of podcasts—with one particular extinct podcast from the mid-'00s being a former favorite for both of us. We talked about jobs and families and travel and all sorts of things. The whole time, I was struck by his intelligence and beauty—his silky-looking shoulder-length hair, his full lips, his strong chin, his deep blue eyeliner-rimmed eyes behind classy-looking glasses.
Even so, I wasn't sure that we were vibing or not, chemistry-wise. As we left the restaurant and walked to a second location for dessert, he didn't make a move to grab my hand. At the second place, we chose the same dessert, but he suggested we each get our own instead of sharing (therefore passing up that ever-so-slightly intimate experience). Still, the conversation remained scintillating. We finished up dessert and headed to the club.
The club was fun. Usually I am not much of a clubber—at least, haven't been since I was like 20—but Beckett's being friends with the main performer and his minions made it super interesting. We got to be backstage while the dancers changed costumes, and Beckett shot some professional video for them, and the performer bought my drinks all night. Beckett didn't care that I was drinking while he was not. He encouraged it. I took it pretty easy, though. I for-sure did not want to get even remotely drunk, just relaxed. So we hung out and talked and chatted with the performers. He took video and I took pics of him taking video. A few times, our arms brushed each other. It was electric.
And then, at one point, he kissed me.
And we kept kissing. And kissing. And he is a REALLY good kisser. I just felt magnetized to him—utterly drawn and sucked in. I got to touch that silky-looking hair, brushing it back from his face, and it was just as silky as it appeared to be. We kissed all over that damned club. At some point, we were kind of in the middle of a high-traffic area, and we were kissing, and I said, "The world is going on all around us." And he smiled and said, "Let it." And he went back to kissing me.
After a while, we danced a little. I'm not much of a dancer, but it was nice having his body pressed so hard against mine, feeling him respond to me. We were focused solely on each other. Time passed.
At about 3:00 a.m., he asked what I wanted to do. I told him we could go back to my place, and he said that sounded good. We got to my place and everything flowed so smoothly. He turned me on so much, instinctively kissing my neck the way I like it. We wriggled out of our clothes and had really good sex. I didn't come, but I usually don't the first time with a new person. He felt heavenly, though. And every inch of him was so beautiful.
Afterward, we were all cuddled up, and he was telling me how unexpected it all was for him. He also had had low expectations and was expecting things to be mostly friendly. But, apparently, I blew his mind.
"I'm used to hanging out with these young girls," he said, "who are—how do I put this without sounding terrible?—not as smart as I am. And you...you're hot and completely on my level and even age-appropriate. I wasn't expecting it."
He seemed dreamy and happy and totally into it. We kept kissing and cuddling and talking. At some point, he said that he might not keep in touch too much between meetings, because "there's only so far this can go." I asked him what he meant, whether it was because of the thing about my moving to Opposite Coast in five months. And he said it was because I already have a boyfriend.
"You're used to this whole poly thing," he said. "Me, not so much." And I explained to him that I was actually pretty new to it, too. Only a year and a half in, really. And he said, "Oh, great. So I get to show up and inject a bunch of drama into your life." And I told him it didn't have to be that way—we could hang out and have fun and keep it cool. And he seemed satisfied.
It was 4:30, and he said he had to leave at five. He looked sleepy. I asked him if I could set an alarm so he could have a little nap, and so we did that. We curled up and slept, soft and naked together, for half an hour. When the alarm went off, we both sighed. We got dressed, and I walked him to his car. I expressed regret for him that he had to go do Important Work on pretty much no sleep.
"It was totally worth it," he said.
After he drove off, I gathered a bag together and walked over to Rider's, crawling into bed with him as the sun prepared to rise.
Since then, Beckett and I have been in touch over text and exchanging pictures. I am totally in squee city. We set a second date—a beach rollerskate excursion—for two weeks from now. Both of us will be out of town next weekend.
I am...surprised...happy...exhilarated...nervous. This is the only time I've really been INTO into someone local since I started dating Rider. And it is hands-down the MOST into someone I've been after a single date since then, maybe ever. He's already talking about visiting me on Opposite Coast. And I'm rabidly anticipating the next time I see him.
Also, hearteningly, the rush of sparkliness seems to only be enhancing my relationship with Rider. I have been directing my grinning and overflowing happiness his direction. And he has been amazing. He seems mostly happy for me and amused. I apologized for not being able to wipe the shit-eating grin off of my face when I got a text, and he laughed and said it was cute.
Perhaps this begins my adventure in having multiple local partners. I've haven't really been through it before. Hopefully I do OK.
