The Wanderer


The Wanderer

I had only met him briefly years ago at a conference. We had struck up a friendship of sorts, knew each other liked kink, so I wasn’t taking a risk by outing myself when I approached him and asked if he wanted to do some rope. I knew it had been awhile for him with rope. To my surprise and delight, he said yes.

Half of his suitcase laid out nonchalantly that I couldn't take my eyes off of

Half of his suitcase laid out nonchalantly that I couldn’t take my eyes off of

Our association has only always been one of respect across great distances. He travels extensively and I had only met him in person once. He has play partners scattered about and I appreciate how he still treats me as an individual person yet our arrangement takes pressure off of becoming more – something I shy away from since my divorce. Not knowing him well and yet knowing him so well from communication over the years, he makes me nervous, still, in a way that is unusual for me. I question if he is pleased, or if he wants to see me again. I wonder if I’m his “type”, I wonder at the dynamics we will forge as our loose arrangement of seeing each other whenever we can (so maybe three times a year?) – what he hopes will happen and what I hope will happen.

Despite all the questions, we are friends and I like to think that we communicate excellently. I have enjoyed our encounters and I crave future ones. Now I just have to figure out this elusive man.

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