I really can't explain it. There's just something about him that I've been attracted to like a moth to a flame. The moth knows it's dangerous, he's seen all his friends go there and never come back, or come back badly burned or without wings. Yet the moth is still drawn to that flame every single time. Is it because he likes the idea that he might get burned? Or it is because he wants to experience something new that he's only watched from afar?
Danny Bridges has always been my flame. We met in high school, and had an on-again, off-again fling that would stick with me forever. He was the typical emotionally unavailable guy, not quite a popular kid but always seemed to have friends in the circles that ran our high school. I was more of a nerd, sticking to my friends and our advanced English classes. It was a typical girl-wants-boy-but-boy-doesn't-know-girl-exists story. See any Taylor Swift song for reference.
After a breakup with my long-term boyfriend, a fellow nerd, I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I never pursued Danny, who I stared at from across the class on a daily basis. Finally, I worked up the courage to message him on Facebook, asking if he wanted to "hang out" sometime. I knew this phrase meant a lot of things to a lot of people, but when he messaged back agreeing that it would be fun (which I hoped meant not only did he know I existed, but also liked me). We met up a few weeks later after many eager messages from me and many long silences from him.
I don't remember all the details, but our "hanging out" quickly lead to making out, which quickly lead to blowjobs for him and fingering for me. He maintained his mystery persona by barely messaging me, only hanging out with me at night, and never ever so much as acknowledging me at school.
This hurt my badly deep down, but I figured this was a typical "hook up" situation. I had never had a casual sexual relationship before, and everything I saw on TV confirmed that the late nights and awkward interaction in public was just part of the hook up. I told myself the reason I always pursued him was because I was a strong, 21st century woman. Danny and I hooked up on and off for three years between my serious relationships. I lusted for him and his mysterious ways, rough but gentle at the same time. I knew he wasn't the man who would buy me roses and sweep me off my feet, but pure lust satisfied me at the time, Danny was the perfect rebound guy.
He introduced me to new sexual worlds. I had always enjoyed having risky sex- where it was just dangerous enough to turn me on more than I had ever been- so we had sex in public every time. We steamed up the windows of my tiny sedan and explored each other on the floor of his big white truck. Since I knew the relationship would never become serious, I opened up to him and shed all my self-doubt. All my body issues disappeared when I was with him, I forgot about my hipbones and bony shoulders, which had stuck out awkwardly since I could remember.
Fast forward to 2013. After a breakup with yet another long-term boyfriend, I was more than ready to feel the lust I had always felt with Danny. I met up with him on a warm spring night, meeting up in a grocery store parking lot and sitting in my car. We had both gained weight since high school, my breasts and hips had filled out and I could feel his eyes on my now-D-cup breasts, peeping out the soft blue dress I had purposefully chosen. His shoulders had rounded out and his arms were bulging from his plaid shirt.
After what felt like hours of awkward small talk, I could no longer pretend not to notice him stealing furtive glances at my breasts. Finally I broke the tension, "Do you want to touch them?" shivers raced through my body as I tentatively turned towards him. He finally allowed himself to stare at my breasts, drinking them in like a thirsty man having his first gulp of water. He carefully reached across and gave my right breast a quick squeeze. "Wow" was all he said as he got bolder and started stroking my left breast.