I still think of this day with fondness. It was up in Maine where I have a house, and it was in February. The snow was deep outside; the fire was roaring and filling the house with the coziest form of heat. “Pure Moods III” was playing on the CD player and I was sitting on the couch with a hot cup of tea early in the morning. My friend was sitting on the other side of the couch with her tea. We had just woken up and were sitting in pajamas on the couch with our tea, still a little bleary eyed.

This was our first weekend together, we’d never had sex and we were planning on going skiing. She was wary of me, wondering if I was some kind of predator, still taking risks just to be alone with me for the weekend and wondering if she could trust me. She was an RN and was training to be a masseuse and while talking there on the couch it came up that I had a little tension in my shoulders. So she made me sit on the floor in front of her, on a blanket, and she rubbed my shoulders. It was cozy and seductive and romantic and sometimes you can feel that even though someone is doing something for you, in doing that, she is doing something for herself too.

It was just natural. I could feel it in her fingers. At first the massage was quite workmanlike. There was no sensuality in it. It was a shoulder rub. I wasn’t turned on. At first. My ass was on the cold, hard floor, even with a blanket under me and that’s not romantic. But it changed. Something changed. I could feel it. Not just in me, but in her. She had come to some kind of decision in her own head, that I wasn’t a predator, that she was going to trust me, that she did like me. It’s amazing now how I felt all that through her fingertips. There was a pleasant buzzing in my stomach and spine, the buzzing of excitement and anticipation. I put the mug on the floor and turned to look up at her. She was looking at me. I reached up and put my arm around her neck and pulled her down to me and she let me do it, she kissed my lips, half upside down. To this day it remains one of the best, hungriest, most passionate moments of my life. And with my other hand I unbuttoned her pajamas. In a few moments she whispered, “Let’s go upstairs.” And that’s how it happened. We only got in a half day of skiing that weekend.

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