The Sexy Love: Mr. Fling

What happens when you mix a girl who hasn’t been touched in months with a tall, charming, and sexy man in uniform?

For me, Mr. Fling is what happened.

Now, as I’ve said in an earlier post, I’m quite particular about who I allow in my bedroom. I tend to think having sex should be like making love– or you should at least very strongly like and trust the person you share that intimate side of yourself with. I try to stick close to my morals and beliefs and encourage my friends to do the same– but sometimes, a gal slips up.

During my junior year of college, which happened to be quite the “dry spell” with dating for me – I ran into an ex-boyfriend from high school, Mr. Fling in my hometown’s mall. It had been years since I’d seen the guy and when my mom pointed him out to me – my jaw just about hit the pretzel stand across from me.

He caught my eye, smiled, walked over and gave me a huge, friendly, welcoming hug. Blushing, I’m sure, I told him how great he looked and we discussed meeting up for dinner before I went back to school. As we parted, we both turned our heads to watch the other walk away – and something inside of me said I’d be seeing a lot more of him.

Within a few days, we were texting and chatting away – just like no time had ever passed between us. We talked about our short-lived relationship in high school and how I broke up with him without notice or warning and how it hurt him. I told him how at the time, I wasn’t ready to enter into a relationship and I knew he wanted something serious, as he was getting ready to join the Armed Forces. In some way, we amended the strain between us…only to create a different kind of tension.

On New Year’s Eve, I woke up to an empty house and a good morning message from Mr. Fling. He was coming back from the base for the weekend and wanted to see if I was available to hang out. For whatever reason, I decided it would be an excellent idea to let him know I just got out of bed and was fully free in an empty house. He quickly responded and said he’d be at my doorstep in 45 minutes and we should get lunch.

Being the extreme girly-girl I am, I freaked out knowing I had less than hour to get ready before this gorgeous man would be in front of me – so I sprinted to the shower, quickly put on make-up and panties, and as I was getting ready to blow-dry my hair…I heard a car pulling into the driveway.

When he said 45 minutes, he really meant 25 minutes, apparently. Because I was flustered, I hurried and wrapped a towel around myself, my hair still curly and wet, and answered the door saying, “I’m sorry! I’m not ready yet, just let me get some clothes on and we can go grab lunch.”

With a mischievous grin, he took off his Army beret, pulled me close to him and kissed me.

Our lips hadn’t touched since we were kids in high school – but he tasted just as he used to. And his smell was still that tough, yet gentle man odor that we all swoon over so easily. Without hesitation, he picked me up, pushed me up against the wall, and ripped off my towel.

The rest of what happened, I’ll just leave to the imagination.

Mr. Fling and I had no intention of actually dating each other again – and for whatever reason, it didn’t bother me too much to allow myself to explore with him. We still talked constantly, he was there for me when I needed him to be, we chatted on the phone, and when we were both in town at the same time – we had “lunch.”

If I’m really honest with myself, there were moments when I felt used or when I felt guilty for allowing myself to be this personal with someone who I knew didn’t love me in the way that I hope to be loved one day. Sometimes I felt really dirty and I grew attached to him over the course of our courtship. And often times, I felt the need to be validated by his affection – either through his touch or his reassuring words. Even though in my head, I knew I didn’t want to be his girlfriend (we never really clicked as a couple), my heart wanted sex to mean more than just…well, sex. While our history made me trust him and know he wouldn’t do anything on purpose to cause me pain – there is something about doing-the-deed with someone that just pulls you closer then you ever expect it will.

Sex is a personal thing and it’s often times…quite messy. There are so many different elements to worry about beyond just STDs and bringing a baby into the world. I was lucky that I had confidence Mr. Fling as my friend and so really our “friends-with-benefits” was mutually accepted by both of us, so feelings didn’t get hurt either way when one of us moved on. I didn’t have romantic expectations, but I know that’s not always the case.

I can’t speak for the women who do allow themselves to be intimate with strangers or can go home with someone they don’t know, I can only share what I’ve learned from my experience with Mr. Fling.

Partly because I know how sensitive I am and how much I invest into a relationship…and well, I’m a self-proclaimed love addict –I’ve been very careful about who I’ve shared my love and my body with. It wouldn’t be smart for me to get sexually involved with someone who I know I could fall for or would want them to fall for me – so until I’m at that healthy stage in my recovery, there may be a little less action than this gal would prefer. And probably, somewhere along the way, I may find myself drawn in – but that’s part of the journey, too.

As I’ve said before, I don’t have regrets and I intend on keeping it that way. Each experience, even if I have done the inevitable walk-of-shame, has brought me one step closer to finding peace in myself and loving who I am – without coulda, woulda, shoulda getting in the way.

Because I shoulda not answered that door only wearing a towel, I coulda refused his kiss and his touch, and I woulda still enjoyed a nice lunch with a great man…but then I wouldn’t have this story to tell or all that I learned from having a steamy afternoon. Or  maybe two. Or three.