A few months after separating from my husband, I went to my best friend’s bachelorette party in the city. We ended the night at a club—drunk, dancing, dropping it low.
I hadn’t been out in the world as a single woman in seven years, and I’d forgotten what it felt like to entertain the possibility of being approached by men.
When I went to get a drink at the bar (I probably should have cut myself off at this point), this guy was standing there making heavy eye contact. Looking me up and down.
I knew what he was thinking…
And I was here for it.
We started chatting, yelling over the loudspeaker and exchanging basic information about each other. We’ll call him Rob.
We ended up exchanging numbers, and I left to go back to the hotel with my friends.
My drunk ass texted him and told him where we were staying.
When I got back to the hotel, I got a text from him saying he was in the lobby and wanted to say goodnight.
I snuck out of the room with my friends and met him in the lobby.
He told me he was getting a room and that, if I got lonely, I could come stay with him.
It felt so exciting, naughty, and free.
I hadn’t felt that kind of anticipation and arousal in years.
I ended up going back to my room, tossing and turning, debating whether I should go to his room. I didn’t want to leave my friend in the room and have them worry about me if they woke up without me there. I was also worried about what they would think if I went to hook up with a stranger.
And, honestly, I felt like it was too soon after separating from my ex-husband.
I ended up going to his room to tell him that I couldn’t stay the night.
He got down on his knees and started telling me the things he wanted to do to me.
I melted.
Then and there, I purely melted.
But I held strong and ended up back in my bed.
It took ALL my willpower to walk out that door.
We proceeded to text every day for the next month.
SPICY texts.
I had never really sexted before, and this sexting game was off the charts.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I masturbated to the thought of him and his texts almost daily. I looked forward to hearing from him and finding out what he was going to say he wanted to do to me next.
I was in over my head.
My separation and divorce were extremely stressful, and this was an escape from my pain.
I had to see him.
We made a plan to meet back in the city a month later and celebrate the long Fourth of July holiday together. I booked a hotel room, and we planned to meet there to continue where we left off…
I was so nervous walking down to the lobby to meet him. I was shaking.
I hadn’t been with anyone new in years, and since my sex life had been shitty with my husband, I was worried I’d lost my touch.
Within 15 minutes of being in the room, he was on his knees saying, “Now where did we leave off?”
Three rounds later, we came up for air.
I couldn’t believe how much I had missed being touched, kissed, fingered, fucked, worshipped.
I was like the Energizer Bunny and couldn’t get enough.
We went for walks, had meals, swam in the pool, but mostly, we fucked.
It felt like a slice of heaven on earth.
After I left that weekend, I realized I had gotten so much more than good sex back.
I felt like I had regained some of my power, spark, and mojo.
Parts of myself that had been dormant for so long.
While Rob ended up being a little odd and unavailable for anything more substantial, I was so grateful for him—and for that experience.
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