The Night That Changed Everything

I met S in Palm Springs at a spiritual retreat. I was staying in a lovely, luxurious hotel, and was sharing a room with a woman I'd not met until I got there. The retreat was everything I'd looked forward to. Kundalini was popping from walls and spiraling up and out of the floors, and almost everyone looked wasted with positively glazed eyes. All in all, our Guru really came through for that one.

On the second evening, I came back to my room rather late. I remember being flushed with the intensity of the day. I thought my hotel roommate would be fast asleep, as she'd retired early the night before. When I walked in, the lights were on, and seated on the bed was a man. An enticingly magnetic man. His energy field bowled over me like a hot lava flow, and my ears began to go a bit dim. A bit like you feel before you're going to faint, only I wasn't at all faint. I had been pushed into a state of hyper-awareness. The roommate, I can't recall her name, giddily introduced S as her boyfriend, that he'd been the bass player for this ridiculously cool and famous band, and at that point I stumbled slightly to get a bottled water. The entire time S was gazing at me with a slight smile on his face.

He was, like us, from Los Angeles. He wore his clothes like they were his own skin, just a tee shirt, ripped jeans, biker boots, and a belt that made me a little dizzy -- the ordinary 'bad boy' uniform of most LA actors and musicians. On S, they were anything but ordinary. He wore a small gold hoop in his left ear lobe, his longish brown hair was slightly curly, and he had a glow. He truly did. I'm sure I saw this because I was kundalini inebriated, but saw it, I did. His arms were completely inked up and beautifully intricate. Lots of red and black. There was conversation, or rather, there was an ongoing monologue coming forth from the roommate. All the while S gazed at me, with that little smile.

She was sitting on the only chair, and S lounged on her bed, and I was on mine. He never stopped gazing. I say that word, because he was not looking at me. He was actively gazing at me, and I felt and knew unequivocally that he was drinking me in. I felt it like a sheet of magnetism that was also flowing back to him from me. I tried to stop it, because he was her boyfriend after all, and I do have boundaries, I do. It's just that I had no choice. It was a force, and I was completely helpless and could do nothing but vibrate in its thrall. I didn't really become conscious that he was very beautiful until almost an hour had passed. The roommate yawned suddenly, and announced she was going to bed. She asked S where he was staying. Gazing at me still, he started to say, "I came here on my bike", when she cut him off and said, "Well it's twin beds, so you can crash on the floor". She'd been completely and astonishingly oblivious of the gaze tango between the two of us. He turned to her, accepted the offer, said good night to her, turned to me and said, "You need to take a walk with me".

I stood up right away, and my entire torso took a dip, as if I were on a roller coaster. We stepped outside, and it was an exceptionally beautiful night, of the type one can only experience in desert country. I wasn't in a daze so much as a compulsion to keep this feeling of exchanged magnetism going. When we'd gone about two blocks, we were getting out of a rather congested area, and a feeling hit me fiercely, like the gods were granting me my wish to do and be exactly who I'd always longed to be. S took my hand then and we began walking a little more briskly. Neither one of us had spoken a word, and it was not in the least awkward, because there was no need to speak. The energetic sparks of whatever was happening made it unnecessary, and unwanted. Another block, and, still holding my hand, he began to jog towards an abandoned gas station. Palm Springs and its surrounding area never disappoint with its kitsch of abandoned gas stations and old diners. We came onto the old, cracked asphalt where broken gas pumps still stood. S stopped, and just... gazed, once again. The corner of one side of his mouth started dipping up.

"So, LA", he said. "Yes", I replied. "I know you", he said. "Yes", I said. At this point, we had somehow reached one of the walls of the old building. "I'm cutting it off with her. She talks too damn much", he said. I burst out laughing, it was uncontrollable, and I began to feel I was going into hysteria when he pulled me into his arms, actually growling, "Come here". He laid a kiss on me then, and as I look back now it makes me think of old Marlon Brando movies, and I can just see how our bodies met each other in that moonlit desert air. His taste was strong, overpowering, and familiar. Before I had a chance to even think about what was happening, or what I was doing, he pushed me, not fiercely, but not gently, against the wall, and breathed into my ear, "This deserves something special, don't you agree?"

Without giving me time to answer, S flipped me around, and with both arms holding me fast around my waist, he leaned into my hair, and started rubbing his stubble all over it. It started sending sparks, and it hurt a little, and it was very odd. And marvelous. He was whispering in my ear, but I had a hard time hearing because my body had suddenly gone into a state of hyper-arousal. I did hear him clearly when he said, "Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about, you and me, we're feeling it." He dropped his hands and put them on my lower belly, holding me there, and not moving for an agonizingly long time. Then slowly, one hand began to move, smoothing lower against the fabric of my dress. He kept his other hand on my belly, and I couldn't move. I don't know if I was actually trapped, or if I just did not want to move, but this is certain: we were two beings caught up in one another in the night.

I knew that we both waited with baited and hitching breaths as his hand tracked my body down, and down, until he reached my mound. When he cupped me, I almost started to weep with the intensity of my feeling. I gasped, and he leaned down and reached around my neck and found my mouth with his lips. It was a twisted position for me, but I loved it, and I had never experienced my knees buckling, but they did then. S was strong, and he had a firm grip, and he kept kissing me. He did let up a bit, but his hand had begun to find the shape, and indeed, the folds of my pussy. I was wearing a thin dress, and his fingers found my clit with no problem, because my wetness made the fabric of my dress very slick, and he began to play with me. One finger became my world, as he anticipated where each throb would arise. He had magic fingers, like the Hindu gods have many arms, and I began to vibrate and roll into a full body orgasm. That's when I really started to fall, and again, he kept me upright. I sighed back into him, and I said something like, "What about you?". He turned me around, and he was smiling. "That won't happen until we get home". I understood.

We left early the next day, S on his motorcycle, me in my car. He did break up with the roommate. I'd said good-bye to her, separately from S. It was awkward, after all, but the reality was that we were strangers. On the surface, S and I were also strangers, but... we weren't. I drove directly to the address he'd texted me, his little house filled with guitars and ancient record albums, and we were together for three years.

I will call it a day for now and name this Part One of the S Years. Part Two will be an ode to the first time we had sex, which was later that night. Part Three will go into some very sexy details of how our relationship turned into a throuple. Ahh, S.