I met someone. I liked it. And now I feel guilty about it.

I was recently acquainted with the concept of body count. NO, it is not the number of people you have killed, on the contrary, it is more about the number of people you have been with. (Why is it so impossible for me to write had sex with? even though i just wrote it). My body count is 2. It is not something i had ever thought about as well. Of course, who wouldn’t want it to be more, but 2 is a really really poor score. I don’t recommend it for anyone.

Some time back, i had joined a dating app. Created my whole profile and everything. I would use the app for a day, connect with one or two and then go back and delete it. Then after a few months i would reinstall it and then connect with someone and drop it there. This time it was a little different, i connected with someone, we texted for a while, them moved out of the app, to just a chatting app.

It was wonderful. I felt wonderful, talking of all of that we had and even more. Ofcourse, its my job to freak out. I freak out every single time. But this time it did seem different. With all the festivities and everything, it did bring out 10 days, before we physically met.

We met at a cafe, and then left for her home. It was a very basic pad, more like a bachelors pad. All essentials in place, may be not exactly as one would want them to be, but fully functional.

I had not clue where to begin, until she held my hand, and asked if i was okay that she kissed. They were hoarse, dry, chapped lips, but they opened up to mine. my legs crossed and hands on my sides, i dug in deeper, as much as i could. As her hands caressed my head and face, so did mine, and the tongues intertwined.

She kept checking, if i was okay. I was embarassed, but this felt good. What stood out more was that it did not feel like M. The one kiss that i have been used to over the past 17 years, this did not taste like that. We kissed on, and she then asked if my shirt buttons actually opened and i put my hand up in the air, for her to pull it off. One thing into another and along with the kissing, my bra was open and off me. I had no clue where to look. covering my eyes, i dug into her shoulders.

She had mentioned her neck being her most sensitive part, and i kissed, rather smelled deeply and rolled the tongue. With my arms around her and head slightly tilted, it seemed she was laughing into my shoulder. It was embarrassing enough, for me to quit and laugh along into her shoulder. The Laughter did not stop and it made me realise, it wasn’t laughter that was shaking, it was her shivering in my carress. Shaking to my nuzzling and licking. All that could be done was hugging her even deeper to assure of my presence. It was time, her dress went off. We kissed again and the bra was off too.

They looked magnificent. Milky white domes, firm and soft. The white skin so thin, that i could see the tiny blue rivulets, flowing down towards the tip, forming a creamy foam, that i just wanted to blow on. The lines touching the areolas, yet giving it gentle hues of brown and pink, like a deeper fried onion. Not too dark, but just the right amount. The nipples weren’t turned on yet, the heat between us was yet to work. They were just a tinge darker. It was the ombre that made them stand out.

From the moment i saw them, i needed to run my fingers on them. Her hands slowly moved up and caressed. It was different. I have not kissed anyone else, since we got married. (Actually i had, once, which was another story, for another day.)

The feelings have grown since then. The guilt, the enthusiasm, the passion, have now found something better to look forward to. There is more acceptance, from home, from me, from her. There is more one-ness, that makes it easier to live with, and the fact that it is not just a moment long, seems beautiful.

Love isn’t something that should or could happen in a day. But there are times, when it does. It might seem stupid to say it aloud, and there is no reason as well, to do so, but it feels good to do that. It feels good to acknowledge, something that makes it easier for the head to live with. That makes it easier for me to accept what i want and what i feel. Life isnt like the “Bridges of Madison County”, but sure as hell, the fear always remains.