Tonight Is Christmas Eve

Today is Christmas Eve. My youngest son and I are watching The Polar Express in the living room. My other son, the eldest, is lying down on the other sofa with a fever. We got to Memphis yesterday after a long drive from Miami. I left for Miami Thursday at 1 a.m., after spending a few hours having sex with Amanda.
I met Amanda Sunday night at 8 p.m. at the RockHouse Live in Collierville. We matched on Hinge and started texting, then had a phone call a couple of days later. At 10 p.m., we were at my house, having sex—wild sex, nonstop sex. She left my house Monday at 5 a.m.
We sat across from each other at the table; the chemistry was absolute. When we spoke over the phone earlier that week, the attraction was already there. I had a boner the minute I heard her talking. Her voice sounded very sexy, her accent so cool, the flow of her words so freaking alluring. Her voice brought to the surface, with just a few words, feelings that would have taken any other woman weeks or months to awaken.
We ordered a glass of wine and a beer and shared a basket of fries. We talked and had fun. We laughed copiously, almost incessantly.
I saw her get out of her car and walk toward the bar. She looked, as I suspected from her pictures, on the chubby side. I got out of my car and met her, and we walked into the bar together. I was all in; I already liked her. We sat, ordered, and started talking. We held hands across the table. Her hands fit comfortably into mine. After talking and talking, I moved to the other side of the table and put my arm around her shoulders. She let me; she welcomed it. Having her in my arms felt right, like we’d known each other for a long time. I kissed her. She kept giggling and smiling. Her smile made me happy. We continued talking and kissing for a while. Then we decided that the best thing to do would be to have sex, and we left the bar.
My son has a fever of 101°F and has moved to his bedroom to be more comfortable. I gave him medicine to lower the fever, but if it doesn’t go down, I’ll have to take him to the emergency room. I’m worried; I want him to be well and enjoy our time together here.
The sex was too good for a first time with a new partner. There was that feeling of familiarity again that made it so good. We undressed standing in front of the bed while talking. There were no inhibitions, no shame, no feelings of inadequacy. We got into bed and talked about leaving the light on or turning it off. We decided off was better; there was enough light coming through the windows. Our bodies knew each other; that’s how it felt. Every touch was right, every kiss was in the right place. I manhandled her, pulling her closer to penetrate her deeper. She enjoyed having my dick in her mouth. Having it all inside, choking her, making her gag. It was a good feeling, very erotic.
Amanda and I met this morning for coffee. Her mom and kids are home. Her daughter is sick. My kids are home with me, one of them sick. It’s going to be hard to find a time and place to have sex for the next couple of weeks. We had an Americano and a hot cocoa and talked for an hour. We left the coffee shop to walk around. We held hands and kissed now and then. She’s not as affectionate as I am, and public displays of affection make her uncomfortable. Something similar happened with Karla. I remember her being suspicious of so many displays of affection. It took her a long while to come around. At the end of our relationship, she was more affectionate than I was! We had several conversations about it, mostly me asking her to try to show more affection. I don’t want to pressure Amanda, so I’m not bringing it up. Either she will come around or she won’t, and it’ll be okay.
My son and I are back on the sofa after having apple turnovers. He’s engrossed in the movie; I watch it while typing on my laptop. The movie is good, but not that good. It’s great that we are watching it together, and I hope that he’ll remember the moments we are spending together regardless of the movie.
The second time we had sex, we met at my place just to have sex; we started exploring each other’s sexuality. We talked and fucked and set boundaries. She likes it rough, and I’m not used to it; it takes me a minute to come around to slapping her ass or choking her. Not that I hadn’t done it in the past, but it’s the frequency and intensity that I need to get used to.
At one point, I commented that my slapping her on the butt was likely to leave a mark. She replied that she was looking forward to seeing it the next day in the mirror. We shared preferences; she likes to have my dick in her mouth almost as much as in her pussy. I’d like to do her in the ass, which she said she’d only done a few times because it’s painful.
“I’m not going anywhere. You are not going anywhere. There is no reason to rush things. I don’t want things to burn and end prematurely,” she said while we were walking through the deserted streets. There was a soft breeze, and she was crunching fallen leaves with every step.
That was her response to my call for prudence. Things were going too fast, too well, and it scared me a little. It felt too good to be true, and I was worrying about what would happen if it ended before we could realize what we had. We ended our encounter with a few kisses. I played with her titties and petted her pussy to arouse her and have her thinking of me when she masturbates tonight.
The last time we had sex was Thursday before I left for Miami. I played with her butthole. I inserted a finger all the way in. After a while, I inserted another finger. She was surprised that she liked it and that it did not cause her pain.
I am experiencing anxiety about this relationship; waiting for her to call or show up is uncomfortable. It is understandable, too; the precariousness of this relationship is proportional to its intensity. I don’t like the uncertainty. I would like for us to be closer, to know each other the same way we feel we know each other. For our souls to fit together the way our bodies do.
Today is Christmas Eve. She’s had dinner with her family and is going to a friend’s party. I’m home with my kids, worried about my son’s health, wondering if she’s going to text me or call me. I decided not to contact her in any way today and to let her do her thing, not to pressure her.
I wish she would call me tonight.