Giving

The excited tones of conversation started to settle, ebbed away like the traffic below in the late night.  We're both naked.  And I pause for a second.  Just enough to catch a glimpse of something beautiful that makes my head spin.

Technically, this is my second time trying out an escort.  After reading LP's blog depicting his experience from one side and then Not Alone'sexperience on the client end, I was kinda curious.  I just suddenly realized the door was open to have that experience.  It was always open, actually.  I just didn't understand what my reason would be to walk through.  What I wanted was to challenge myself and experience something I normally wouldn't have.

So he's lying on his back.  I'm hovering over him.  Physically, I'm as turned on as I was when I first encountered his blog full of ideas and pictures.  He's even more handsome in person.  He's transformed his look a few times as you scroll through his past entries and he's settled now on a pronounced mo' against neatly trimmed scruff.  And if pictures are worth a thousand words, then it needs a new dictionary as his reality defies the articulation of imagery.  I'm surprised he's seventy pounds heavier than me, but as my hands roam across his body it understands how he's assembled that weight into compact, dense fibers of strong masculinity.  He's fuckin' lean as shit.  Just two hundred pounds of raw power.

And perhaps that why the look he gave me confounds me.  Face relaxed.  Brows furrowed in upturned questions.  It's a look that I can only read as extremely urgent and aggressive empathetic.  It's a stunning duality.  I can sense him trying to read me and give me everything I want.  It's almost as if he's trying to grant me permission to let go.  There's just such a strength in his will to give that's achingly beautiful.  Even a week after we first met, I vividly reflect on how he smells, how his lats felt under my fingers as they travelled down to his trim waist, and above all that... a look of pure compassion.