Freaky Reiki

Oscar. His bio made me laugh. Showing personality was a plus. He got a right-swipe instantly. He was extremely attractive—6 '0, Mexican, and open to connecting with whomever he was meant to. My mind traced his chiseled light-brown features, his eyes were dark and reminded me of mountains lit by stars at midnight. They were strong and held firm in their gaze. His soft smile read confidence. He knew he was attractive and had no reason to ever play small. The veins in his arms sat atop muscles that had been honed from years of working out. His hair is vibrant, hung down his back in long, luscious black strands. 

I sent a question to start the conversation. It turned into a week and a half of getting to know each other. He was someone who could hold a conversation and spoke about the things that I loved: energy, meditation, and reiki. He was a sapiosexual, as was I. I loved the energy we shared, and I could imagine myself meeting someone new—meeting Oscar. 

“Would you like to come over to my place?”

I stared at the message, questioning myself. The answer was yes. I wanted to feel how strong those hands were. I imagined them pulling my chin up so I could look in his eyes, drifting down from my shoulders to my arms, wrapping around my waist, and bringing me closer to him. I wanted his fingers in between my legs, filling me up. I wanted to feel them all over me. 

But this would be my first time meeting someone from a dating app and the first time in over three years since my last encounter with a new man. I was nervous. After a tough divorce, it was hard to even want to get back out there. I knew myself better now, and I wanted more from sex. It had been difficult to find someone who could entice my mind before seducing my body. 

Oscar had done it.

~~~

When I arrive at his building, I see the door person and feel a frog in my throat, curious about the past women who have asked for him. She calls up to him and says I have arrived. She gets off the phone and looks at me with a slight smirk.

“You can go on up,” she says.

“Just go on up?” I say, imagining she knows exactly what I’m about to do.

She laughs at me, “Yup. Go right on up.”

I walk off the elevator and look to my left then to my right. I see him standing down the hall and he waves.

Unsure of what to do with my hands, I keep looking down and then back up at him, giggling to myself. When I make it to him, I realize just how much he towers over me. Being 5’1, everyone is taller than me, but I love having to look up at a guy; it gives me a sense of security. Having an extremely curvaceous body: voluptuous hips, abundant G-cup breasts, and a stomach to match; it is nice to feel smaller than a lover in some capacity. 

His frame is a slim, athletic build. His hair is let-down and flows behind his back. He opens his arms and welcomes me into this incredibly long and tight hug. He audibly “Mmms,” and says, “You smell so good.” 

He ushers me back to his room. 

I walk around while we chat about our day. He sits on the bed. It is huge and high up. I have to climb my short ass up there. 

The more we talk, the more comfortable I get. I eventually take off my jacket. I stop trying to adjust my body to appear smaller than I am. He sees the way my stomach protrudes in its round fullness. My arms are thick and thighs even thicker. Breasts touching my stomach because they have no choice. My entire being is lush like a full-figured Goddess. I might as well step into it. 

He notices my tattoos on my arms and right hand. He lightly traces the moon phases and dna strand. He holds my hand, examining the tattoos. I must admit that I love the contrast of his skin on my darker complexion. It takes me back to my favorite movie, A Bronx Tale. A love that goes beyond what’s on the surface. He rubs the hamsa and ace of cups tattooed there. My body begins to feel fuzzy, and I get a little lightheaded. I take deep breaths and I do my best to keep cool. But I can’t stop the flutter happening between my legs. 

“I have a hamsa tattoo as well,” he tells me, letting go of my arm. 

He shows me it on the back of his leg and sits back on the bed. 

I notice the mushroom on his arm, “You must really like mushrooms, huh?”

He rubs the tattoo and then moves his hair behind his ears. His eyes stay on me. 

“I learned a lot about them taking trips back to Mexico. I have taken myself on healing trips and others as well. There is so much to them that people don’t understand. I want to be able to help others get to where they want to be. I couldn’t do that without experiencing it first.”

He speaks with so much passion. I keep watching his full lips. He is so fucking beautiful in person. 

My body is getting calmer listening to his voice. I lay down on my stomach as his words swirl around my ears and slide inside my mind. I hear a zipper come undone. My pussy piques in question. I am too scared to turn my head to him. He comes and lays down beside me. It was just his jacket. 

He slowly rubs his hand across my back as I speak about my past. The last four years have taken me on a healing journey I wasn’t prepared for. His soft, firm hands give me the safe space to speak on my deep depression and feeling out of place in this world. The way his hands move up and down my back doesn’t catch me off guard. It wakes something up inside of me. Something I had forgotten existed. With this simple touch I lose my train of thought. A slight moan escapes my lips. Oscar has me. 

I allow myself to feel and let out a few more moans. His left hand slowly glides across my back. The touches barely graze me. He moves his hand from one side of my lower body to the next. Each side to side I feel the nervous energy leave my body. His hand moves back up, and for a moment, he stops in the middle. He pushes his fingertips into my skin, and I can feel his energy move from him to me–my defenses slowly diffusing. I am watching him as he watches my breaths become more shallow. 

We start to gravitate closer to each other. He gets so close to my body. His hand finds its way under my shirt.

I lift my head up, “I’m in my head,” I tell him. He says okay and listens. Somehow just announcing the feeling softens it.

I whisper, feeling ready, “I am going to just feel and be present here with you.”

“Yes, you should.” 

I lay back down beside him. I move closer to his body. His mouth is now beside my ear. I can feel his breath. He licks my ear. Shit. Here we go. He kisses and licks my neck. I feel my temperature rise, and a storm brews between my legs. I turn my face so that we are now lips to lips. He comes in, and we crash into each other. 

Both of our arms wrap around each other in a fury. His kisses are intentional and deep. There’s a fever behind them. Desire. I realize that I am moving quickly. I am hungrily taking him in like an animal in heat. 

He climbs on top of me, and we are going at it like lovers who have not seen each other in a decade. I’m trying to suck every ounce of him out of his mouth. He starts making his way down my body: kissing on my neck, sucking on my nipples and licking my stomach, trying to get to my pants. I’m in a whirlwind of ecstasy. 

“Hey,” I say as he licks my waist. “I am thinking, and I need to talk it out as it comes.”

“Mmhmm,” he murmurs between kiss after kiss on my flesh. “Do whatever you need to do.”

“I am thinking it has been three years since I have kissed anyone.”

He comes back up to kiss me again and smiles, “Really? You are long overdue. Let me make up for lost time.”

He heads back down. 

“I’m also thinking about how I put on a lot of body butter on and that’s probably what you are tasting right now.”

“You taste really good,” he says, as he gives me another long lick.

“I’m feeling sweaty,” I tell him.

His fingers slide inside of me. “Would you like to take off your shirt?”

I nod. He helps me get completely naked. Light bright as hell. Me in the body I haven’t been fully naked in front of another person with, it’s a lot. But he just looks at me with want and my entire being goes ablaze. 

He watches me the entire time. He watches me as we kiss. He watches the faces I make when he fingers my pussy. I usually close my eyes in pleasure, but I follow his lead. I watch him, too. I love the furrow of his brows while he is feeling my body. I bring him back up for kisses and ask him to get protection. He does, and then I feel him slide inside of me.

He ties his hair up swiftly, and he is back to watching me. Keeping his eyes on me as he is slowly going in and out of me, so wet. I move his loose strands out of his face and kiss on his neck, his shoulder, his arm. Any part of him I can find. He is so soft and smooth. This ride feels incredible. 

He slides out of me, doing his best to last longer. I wrap my arms around him and bring him into me and say, “Stay.” 

He comes closer to me and whispers, “I want to stay inside of you.” 

We are lost in each other's kisses. His tongue goes deeper into my mouth, and I gently suck on it. I try to taste every drop of him. I’m on the bottom, but I am slowly grinding on him. He follows my tempo and slowly, so slowly fucks me. 

He leans back, and I see his full body on display.

A soft glaze of sweat glistens on his skin. My eyes count his abs from top to bottom. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. With each slow push inside of me, I see them contract. His black tattoos are stark on his light-brown skin. His eyes are watching every love face I make. He is fucking me into another realm. He puts his hand around my neck. He is perfectly squeezing it, and starts fucking me deeper. My body goes higher. He feels so good. He digs in so deep. 

His body gets tighter, and his stroke gets faster. I hold on to his waist and brace myself for what I know is to come. His eyes close and I watch him slightly convulse as he finishes. He lays down on me for a moment and I rub his back.

He slowly rolls over and we lay beside each other. We’re both wrapped in calm. Catching our breath. I have my back to him, and he is holding me tight. Our hands wrap in each other. 

His hands find their way back between my legs. 

I warn him, “It’s a fucking mess down there.” 

“You’re beautiful,” he tells me.

Photo by Dellon Thomas